Chapter 78
HARLOW
Ihold tight to Monroe’s hand as we walk through LAX. If I thought the traffic around LAX was bad, it’s got nothing on the amount of people inside the airport.
“This way, sweetie.” I direct her to an escalator.
I find the airport overwhelming, but I’m getting around better than I expected. After locating our gate, I let Roe pick out some snacks and a drink while I get a much-needed coffee.
It’s going to be strange not spending the holiday with my parents and sister, because we always get together for Christmas, but Monroe is excited for her first flight and to be with her dad.
Back at the gate, we settle in to wait. I hand Roe her iPad and headphones.
I purposely don’t give her a lot of time with electronics, but I’d prefer to keep her distracted, so she doesn’t pick up on my stress.
Kids are intuitive, and if she notices I’m freaking out about the flight it might lead her to feel similarly.
I take a sip of my coffee and look around, taking in as much as I can. One thing is for certain; the airport is fantastic for people watching.
My eyes narrow on a familiar figure.
No. He wouldn’t…
The person continues in this direction and looks up, confirming the gate, and my mouth gapes open.
“Spencer?” I mouth.
I blink my eyes rapidly, expecting the man to disappear like a mirage, but no, he’s still there.
He scans the people waiting at the gate and his eyes light up when he spots me. He heads straight for where we sit and yet I’m still expecting him to vanish.
“Can I take this seat?” He points to the empty seat to my right, since I stuck Roe on the end where no one could sit by her.
Monroe gasps and looks up. “Daddy!” She throws her tablet and headphones in my lap and jumps up, wrapping her arms around his legs.
“Hey, sweetie.” He hugs her back.
“What are you doing?” she asks. “We’re on our way to see you.”
He chuckles. “I know.” To me, he says, “I knew you were nervous, and I didn’t want you to have to do your first flight alone. I moved some things around so I could at least fly here and turn around and come back.”
“Spencer,” I breathe, tears filling my eyes.
“Oh, baby.” He crouches down, gentle fingers taking my own. “Please, don’t cry.”
Every time I turn around this man is constantly showing me the ways in which he cares and loves me.
I’ve spent years convincing myself I didn’t deserve him.
My postpartum depression really did a number on my self-esteem and thought process.
Dr. Michaels has opened my eyes to how badly I let my own inner thoughts affect me.
Even though things got better for me after my postpartum depression went away, and Spencer and I were together for a while after, it didn’t matter because the damage to my mind had already been done.
I convinced myself I was undeserving of his love.
My voice is watery when I ask, “Why?”
I already know what he’s going to say before he answers. “Because I love you.”
I take his face between my hands. “I love you, too.”
His eyes widen and I think he understand what else I’m saying.
I choose you.
I’d already decided to ask him if he would give me another chance at some point during this trip. I’m finally at a point where I’ve forgiven myself for the mistakes I made in the past.
He doesn’t push me with follow up questions which I appreciate. He just settles in beside me and holds my hand.
While we wait at the gate for our flight, a few people who recognize Spencer ask for photos and he politely takes them and speaks kindly to every person who braves to say something to him.
I’m sure photos of us will end up online somewhere, but I truly don’t care.
I swear I owe Dr. Michaels my life for helping me work through so many things. I don’t think I’ll ever stop therapy. It’s truly changed my life for the better.
When it’s time to board the plane, I don’t even give Spencer hell for the first-class tickets, because frankly, I’m thankful for it. Having more space will help ease my anxiety.
Our first flight goes smoother than I expect and after a layover we’re on our way to our actual destination.
It’s dark out when we arrive, and from my research, this time of year Iceland only has about four to five hours of daylight. I’m sure that’s made filming slow.
Monroe is fast asleep, so Spencer carries her into the hotel and up to his room.
He unlocks the door and steps inside, holding it open for me so I can wheel our bags in.
I smile when I see that he already has a bed set up for Monroe.
There’s even a Christmas tree in the corner of the room.
He lays her down gently and removes her shoes before covering her with the blanket.
He presses a kiss to her forehead before he straightens and turns to me.
Warmth fills his eyes as he gazes at me.
“I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Yeah?”
“You have no idea how much.” His voice cracks.
“Spencer,” I breathe, crossing the few feet between us. I wrap my arms around his neck and his wind around my waist.
“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed of this.” His lips graze my hair. “No idea.”
I frown. I’ve broken this man’s heart a thousand different times and yet he’s still here, still loving me. “I’m sorry.”
His thumbs caress my back in gentle, slow circles. “Don’t be sorry, baby. You found your way back to me. That’s what matters.” He lowers his forehead to mine.
“I want to take things slow,” I warn him. “I want to date you again.”
He smiles down at me, his hands finding my cheeks. “If you wanted to date me again, you didn’t have to break up with me and get with another guy,” he teases.
“Shut up,” I laugh.
“Things are going to be different this time, though,” he says. One hand slides around to the back of my neck. “We’re going to communicate. If you’re feeling insecure about anything you’re going to talk to me and vice versa. I don’t want anything left unsaid between us.”
“I can do that. Dr. Michaels—”
He closes his eyes, and groans. “Baby, please don’t talk about our therapist when all I want to do is be inside you.”
“Sorry, it’s a bit of a vibe killer, isn’t it?” I laugh.
“A bit, but not enough.”
I slam my hand against my mouth to stifle a small scream when he scoops me up and carries me into the private bedroom and closes the door behind us. He drops me on the bed and closes the door.
Stalking back toward me, he lowers down to be at my level. A hand rests on each side of my hips and my core clenches.
“You’re really giving me a second chance, baby?”
“I think I should be the one asking that question,” I tease. “But yes.”
My heart races as I seek his mouth, desperate for a kiss, but he pulls back. “Ms. Hansen, I don’t kiss before the first date.”
“Oh, shut up.” I grasp his shirt in my fist and pull him in.
He smiles against my mouth before obliging me with a kiss. He deepens it until I’m achy and needy and then his lips find the shell of my ear.
“You were always meant to be mine.”