Ava Reynolds
Lying in bed with Reek the next morning, I still couldn’t believe Aria had checked herself into a psych ward. Every time I thought about it, I started laughing all over again.
Mental health wasn’t funny, and I understood why she snapped. Still, the image of Aria fleeing the estate, shooting at security, and then checking herself into a facility because she was sure she was either going to kill herself or somebody else was wild.
Reek had one arm under his head and the other over my waist while I lay on my side facing him.
Cairo was still asleep in his bassinet across the room.
Sunlight shined through the curtains. Reek was shirtless, with this sexy, sleepy look in his eyes.
He was way too fine for six weeks not to even be close to being up yet.
I laughed again, and Reek shook his head. “That girl is out her damn mind.”
“She really ran to a psych ward because she thought she was pregnant,” I said, still smiling. “And then she wasn’t even pregnant!”
Reek laughed too. “That part is what makes it worse.”
“It really does.”
“She got too many kids, though. I get it.”
I turned my face into the pillow a little, still snickering. “Exactly. That’s why I’m laughing and feeling bad for her at the same time.”
He looked at me for a second, then asked, “How many kids you want us to have?”
That wiped the smile off my face for a second. I looked up at him, blinking slowly. “What?”
He didn’t laugh it off either. He was serious. “How many kids you want us to have?”
I stared at him because just a few months ago, this man had acted like one baby was the beginning of the end.
“That is even a question now?” I asked.
He smiled a little, but it wasn’t playful. It was more like he already knew how crazy that sounded coming out of his mouth. “Yeah. It’s a question now.”
I rolled onto my back and looked at the ceiling before looking at him again. “You didn’t want any kids.”
“I know.”
“You were horrified.”
“I was.”
I studied him for a second. “So, what changed?”
“You,” he said. “And RoRo.”
My expression softened as I began to swoon.
“At first, all I could think about was what I didn’t have in me for a kid, what I didn’t know, what I didn’t trust about myself. But once I stopped fighting that, I realized it was never really the baby that scared me. It was loving something enough to lose or ruin it that had me running.”
I reached over and rubbed his chest. “And now?”
“Now,” he said, covering my hand with his, “I still know what can happen. I still know this life gets dangerous. But I also know I want this. I want you. I want him. And if we ended up having more, I’d be good with that.”
I smiled and looked down at our hands. “You have changed so much.”
He gave me that little corner smile I loved. “Good.”
“How many do you want?”
He thought about it for a second, then said, “At least one more. A girl.”
That made me grin. “A girl? You want a daughter?”
“Yeah, I think it would be dope to see a little you.”
We looked into each other’s eyes, gazing for a second before I had to tear my eyes away because my sore vagina was starting to pulsate.
I laid my head against his shoulder and asked, “What kind of parents do you want us to be?”
He rubbed his hand up and down my arm while he thought about it.
“I want our kids to know they’re loved. Not with just words.
I want to them to feel it because we always show them.
I want them to feel safe. I want them to never question whether we want them around.
I want them to know home is soft before they ever learn the world can be hard. ”
That made my eyes sting a little.
I swallowed my emotions and added, “I want them to know love does not always have to hurt first.”
Reek turned his head toward me, listening with intent.
“I want them to know that being loved should feel safe,” I went on. “Not confusing. Not one-sided. Not like they have to earn it by suffering.”
He was quiet for a second after that. Then he kissed the top of my head.
I let the silence sit between us because it was the good kind, the kind full of understanding and joy.
After a minute, I said, “I swore loving you would always be like that. I thought it would always be one-sided and confusing, because I knew I could never stop loving you. I thought you would be the man I loved but was not supposed to. I thought you would always be the sore spot in my heart, the person I wanted too much and could not fully have.”
His expression changed to guilt and a bit of sympathy. “I was that man…” Then he brushed my hair back from my face, saying, “Until you and the baby gave me something worth changing for. For the first time in my life, the future doesn’t scare me as much as losing what we’re building does.”
That took the air out of me.
And he continued to take my breath away. “I’ve loved you longer than I wanted to admit. Even in the worst parts of our mess, I was never really free of you. I tried to act like I was. I tried to fuck my way around it, talk my way around it, fear my way around it. None of that worked.”
I laughed softly through the emotion rising in me. Then he kissed me, soft and slow, mingling our morning breath together.
We had finally stopped lying to ourselves about what had been there the whole time.
When he pulled back, I stared at him, and it felt like all my walls crumbled.
Not just because he had said the right things.
Because I believed him. I trusted this man with my whole heart.
I now knew that he had been too damaged to ever put that hurt on anyone else, now that he was no longer afraid to love.
“We can move in together.”
His whole face lit up in a way that almost made me laugh. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. But not in your place. Your bachelor pad is nice, but it’s a one-bedroom. My place is too small too, especially if we’re going to host family. Plus, I don’t have enough closet space for all your shoes.”
He chuckled. “Facts. So, I need to buy us a house?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“I’ll buy you out your lease,” he offered.
“I know you are.” I smiled and touched his face. “And I trust you not to abuse your control.”
That made him go still in the best way.
He leaned down and kissed me again, shorter this time. “I won’t.” He rested his forehead against mine for a second, then exhaled and said, “I gotta get up and get ready.”
And just like that, the joy turned to anxiety and panic.
Today was the day of the De La Cruz funeral in Indiana. I felt fear rise so fast it almost made me dizzy, but I forced myself to keep my breathing even. He needed to focus. He needed to go and come back. The last thing I wanted to do was add to his stress before he left.
Still, I know my face told on me some because his hand came to my cheek.
“Ava.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
I tried to smile and failed. “I’ll be okay.”
He sat up then, and I sat up with him. He was reaching for his clothes, but I could already feel myself wanting to cry and hating it because I didn’t want him leaving with that image of me.
So, I caught his hand before he could stand.
He looked back at me.
And with tears already crowding my eyes, I said, “Do not die.”
His expression softened into a sympathetic gaze. “It took us too long to get it right for you to leave me now.” He turned back toward me fully and held my face in both hands. “I’m coming back to you.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”