“She’s gorgeous.” I touched the glass in the frame.
“That she is.” Henry was obviously proud of her. “Come now. She’s even prettier in person.”
Peter whispered in my ear as we walked. “She looks exactly like you.”
Not exactly. She had a more beautiful soul. I could already tell.
My heart pounded as we neared. I could hear her giggle. It was the most glorious sound in all the world. Before I knew it, we were on the porch. She stood in front of Anna, who had her arms around her. There was no doubt they were mother and daughter. I thought my heart might break over facing that reality but no, it made it soar. This is what I wanted for her—what I couldn’t give her at the time and wasn’t sure I would have ever been able to give her.
Anna was as lovely as ever, with bobbed blonde hair that would probably never gray. Her blue eyes twinkled. “Oh, dear Delanie, here you are. I have someone I would like you to meet.” She adoringly looked down on her daughter. “This is Xaria.”
I held my heart. Baby X. I let go of Henry’s hand and walked toward the first person I ever truly loved. I knelt in front of her and stared into her beautiful porcelain face. Tears streamed down my cheeks. “It is so nice to meet you, Xaria.”
She instinctively touched my face with her delicate hands painted with pink nail polish. Not a shade I would have ever worn, but it fit her so perfectly. “My name means gift of love.”
I looked up into Anna’s wet eyes.
“We thought it was appropriate.”
My eyes went right back to my daughter’s. “It is the most beautiful name I’ve ever heard.” I couldn’t help but hug her. I was so happy when her thin arms wrapped around my neck. I held my baby tight, soaking in what I could of her.
“I have something for you.” I reached into my pocket, not knowing how perfect the small gift would be. It was a choker chain I had worn long ago for months after she was born. I pulled out the silver chain with the dangling X and put it in her small hand. “This is for you.”
She immediately held it up. “It has my initial on it.” She handed it to Anna. “Will you put it on me, Mommy?”
“Why don’t you ask Delanie?”
Xaria turned back toward me and handed me the necklace. “Will you please put it on me?”
She was the politest sounding child ever. That must have come from Henry and Anna. There was no way I had passed that down, and I refused to think it had been a trait of Blair’s.
“I would love to.” I took the chain and clasped it around her slender neck that she got from me. “There you go.”
She took ahold of the X one more time, pleased. “I made you cookies.”
I smiled, though I wasn’t sure how I would get them down, but I would do whatever it took. “I love cookies.” Normally that was true. I stood up and Peter came to my side. “Xaria, this is my . . . husband, Peter.” It was painful to say because I loved it so much yet wasn’t sure it would always be so.
Peter noticed the hesitation and raised his brow at me, but quickly turned his attention to Xaria. “We’ve both been very excited to meet you.” He sounded nothing but sincere. He took her little hand and bent down and kissed it. She giggled, and I wanted to kiss him for it.
“Why don’t we all sit down,” Henry suggested. “We know you don’t have a lot of time and we are anxious to catch up with you.”
Peter helped me with my seat next to my little girl at the round, white table. I hoped Anna and Henry didn’t mind me thinking of her that way. It was apparent where she belonged, but there was a piece of her that would always live in me, and I hoped some of me grew in her. Maybe not the foul mouth part. She was too lovely to be vulgar.
Anna and Henry were anxious to hear about my life, but all I wanted to hear about was Xaria’s. To talk to her. To touch her hair and hold her hand.
“What grade are you in now?”
“Fifth.” She blushed.
“Fifth?”
“She skipped a grade.” Anna smiled.
Of course she did. I knew she would be intelligent. In the womb, I could feel it as she tried to communicate with me.
“What are your favorite subjects?” I wanted to know everything about her.
Her pretty brown eyes lit up. “I love to read, but my mommy won’t let me read your books yet.” So she knew I was a writer.
Everyone around the table laughed.
I beamed down at Xaria. “That’s a good idea.”
“Would you like to see some photo albums of her?” Anna asked me.
“More than anything.”
Anna jumped up to fetch my daughter’s past in pictures. Meanwhile, I couldn’t get over staring at her and she seemed to be just as interested in me. She reached up and touched my diamond nose stud. “Did that hurt when you got it?”
“A little bit.”
Then she touched my tattoo. I was so happy she felt so comfortable around me. “That’s pretty. Green is my favorite color.”
“Mine too.” The shade of Peter’s eyes.
Anna came back carrying a few photo albums. She handed them to me but stayed standing above me so as I took in each page she could tell me the story of Xaria. The most beautiful story I’d ever heard. The one I started but let someone who could do a better job finish.
I touched her newborn photos and felt the ache of remembering her tiny body against me.
“The only way we could get her to sleep,” Anna fondly remembered, “was to play her Eminem.”
I looked up to Anna and smiled. “I told you.”
“What?” Peter wanted to be clued in.
I turned toward him. “At night, Xaria loved to kick and turn, but when I put my headphones on my belly, she calmed down.”
“We only played her the non-explicit versions.” Henry wanted to make that clear.
“Who is Eminem?” Xaria asked.
Anna stroked her hair. “I think one day when you’re older, Delanie will want to tell you all about him.”
Did I ever, but nine was a little young to expose her to my favorite musical artist. But the thought that I could tell her made my heart sing.
I flipped through picture after picture of first steps, first days of school, first lost tooth, birthdays. I laughed and cried at all her cuteness and personality that came through—from the way she posed with her hands on her hips to the way she smiled and lit up the world.
“She reminds us a lot of her tenacious, determined birth mother.” Anna gently touched my hair.
“Never met a young woman as brave as your wife,” Henry said to Peter. “She took charge of her life and faced some pretty tough obstacles with courage.”
Peter rested his hand on my leg. “That sounds like my wife.”
“She was and is our hero,” Anna added in.
The person they were talking about sounded nothing like how I felt. I felt like a coward for giving Xaria away and I was far from a hero. Heroes saved other people, and I felt at the time that maybe I was only doing it to save myself.
Henry must have read my mind. He reached across the table and took my hand. “The hardest thing I ever had to do was take Xaria out of your arms. There was no doubt what a sacrifice it was for you. You loved enough to let go. That is the greatest love of all.”
My eyes swelled with tears. Is that what I was supposed to do now? Show how much I loved Peter by letting him go? Would he be happier without me, like my daughter?
Anna placed her hands on my shoulders. “You don’t know the guilt we felt, but now to see you, successful and married. It does our hearts good.”
Little did they know the success was ruining my marriage.
Peter applied more pressure to my leg as if he knew what I was thinking.
I turned back to Xaria. She was my focus for now. What a lovely sight she was. “Tell me about your ballet classes.”
Before I knew it, we had to leave. I didn’t get to hear near enough of her, but this time I knew it wasn’t a forever goodbye. I would w
ork out how to see her in the future, though my celebrity status was going to make that difficult. I privately discussed with Anna what it might mean for them if the press found out about her. It was a risk they were willing to take, but for now, while Xaria and all of us got used to this new arrangement, we would do what we could to keep it quiet. Xaria and I would video chat once a week until I could see her again.
I knelt by the door to say goodbye to her, though I had no wish to leave her. I held her tight and whispered, “I have always loved you,” in her ear.
She didn’t return it. I didn’t expect her to. But she squeezed tighter. “Thank you for my necklace and for giving me my mommy and daddy.”
Those words both lifted and broke my heart. I leaned back and peered into her eyes. “I’m so, so happy you are happy and so loved.”
It’s all I ever wanted for her.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
With headphones securely in place so I didn’t burn Peter’s ears off, I tried to write after my emotionally and physically exhausting day of meeting my daughter and hundreds of fans. I couldn’t sleep, so I didn’t know what else to do. Except all I could do was stare at the box of Cocoa Pebbles and half eaten bowl of cereal on the coffee table in front of me. All reminders of Peter. He wanted to take care of me and had Fiona send someone for my favorite cereal. My go-to cereal that had seen me through six books.
I thought of how he held my hand the entire drive back as I cried and cried, both happy and sad tears. I’d hardly said a word, but he kept apologizing for denying me the opportunity to tell him about Xaria last week when I tried. He repeated some of the same sentiments as Anna and Henry, that I was a hero and giving her up for adoption was the brave thing to do. I don’t think I would ever feel that way about it. Would he feel the same way about me giving him up? Maybe in the future he would look back and thank me.
I watched Peter tonight as he stood in the background and observed me interacting with my crazed fans. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but this couldn’t be the life he wanted. I hated seeing what it had done to him. To us.
My eyes focused back on my screen, frustrated I couldn’t write the story. Hunter’s voice was completely gone. I couldn’t even make anything up. I shook my laptop. “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME!”
Peter came rushing out of the bedroom, showered and in pajama bottoms. I had told him to just go to bed. It would be another late night for me. Or maybe not. I was about ready to chuck my laptop across the room.
Peter landed by my side and saved the laptop by removing it and setting it on the coffee table. He ran the back of his hand down my cheek. “Hey, there, what’s wrong?”
I rubbed my hands over my face. “I can’t do it. I can’t finish the story. I don’t think Hunter wants Laine.”
Peter shook his head in disbelief. He knew better than anyone my plans for Hunter and Laine. “I think you’re tired.”
“I’m not tired.” Anger threaded my words. Well, I was exhausted, but that had nothing to do with this.
He stood and reached down to pick me up. “It’s been a long day and you need to get some rest.”
“I’m fine on the couch.”
He didn’t listen to me and scooped me up.
Where I used to melt in his arms, I was as stiff as I could be. “I said I was fine on the couch.”
Peter stood still, refusing my request but gazing intently at me. “Delanie, you are my wife and the mother of my child. You get the bed.”
What if I didn’t want to be in it alone?
He didn’t give me the chance to protest. He walked me straight back and laid me on the king-sized bed covered in a paisley bedspread. His eyes took a moment to linger on me before kissing my head. “I love you.” He walked right back out, turning off the lights and shutting the double doors, leaving me to stare after him in the dark.
I sank into the pillows and tried to settle myself into the comfortable bed. It was nicer than the couch, but it felt so empty. I reached over to where Peter would have . . . should have been? I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything.
I pulled the covers up only to have Peter burst through the door. “Dammit, Delanie, I can’t take this anymore.”
I sat up, startled. Peter had never once sworn in my presence and he looked ominous with the light shining behind him as he marched toward me. He landed on the bed so forcefully we both bounced slightly. His green eyes focused in on mine.
“You’re doing that thing where you keep it all in, but I can see you, almost hear you thinking about us. Please just yell at me or tell me to go to hell; just say something.”
“I can’t,” I cried.
“Why not?”
“Because neither of us wants to admit it or hear the truth.”
He brushed my hair back. “Baby, what are you talking about?”
He was going to force my hand, but maybe it was better to say it now before it killed me inside. I looked up to the trey ceilings and that stupid crystal chandelier. “We aren’t meant to be together.” I let out a heavy breath along with some tears.
“Of course we aren’t.”
What? He agreed? I stared at him stunned.
He smiled at me as if he hadn’t just crushed my soul. “Delanie, I don’t know that anyone is meant to be together, especially not a priest and a beautiful, agnostic redhead with a mouth that would give a sailor a run for his money.”
I couldn’t help but give him a small smile.
He moved in closer, taking my hand and holding it against his bare chest where I could feel his strong heartbeat pounding harder than normal. “But that doesn’t matter. What does, is that we chose to be together.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have.”
“I don’t believe that for a second.”
“Peter, you’re miserable and you had no idea what you were getting into when you married me. I feel like I broke you and the best thing for you would be to let you go.”
“Did you know what you were getting into when you married me?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Do you know how many times I’ve felt guilty for bringing you into my crazy family after everything they’ve done to you? If it wasn’t for my mom, we wouldn’t be here right now. Yet you chose to stay with me.”
That gave me some pause.
“You’re right though—I’m miserable without you. And I’m broken, but not because of you. Because we all are in some shape or form. These last few weeks, I know I screwed up. I’ve reacted poorly, and I’ve hurt you. All things I deeply regret.”
“I’ve hurt you too,” I whispered.
“Only because I realized you didn’t feel like our relationship was strong enough where you could confide in me.”
“You don’t know how bad I wanted to, but I was afraid you would realize sooner rather than later that we were all wrong for each other. That maybe you had made a mistake choosing me over God.”
He shook his head as if I’d struck him. “Have you always felt like this?”
I nodded. “More so now.” I inhaled and exhaled. “Peter, I can’t live in fear thinking some story is going to come out that finally drives home to you how different we are. And I can’t stand the thought that my life is killing who you are.”
He took both my hands in his and kissed them. “Baby, I don’t know what to say.” He sat dazed for a moment. He leaned in and rested his forehead against mine. “You listen to me, Delanie Decker, I didn’t choose you over God. I chose you because of Him. You make my life worth living. Being without you is killing me, not the other way around. Maybe we weren’t meant to be, but we do belong together. You are part of me, the best part. If anyone is undeserving in this relationship, it’s me.”
I desperately wanted to believe him. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” He gently brushed my lips. “Please forgive me. Give me time to catch up to you. Let me be the man you can tell your secrets to.”
I fixed my hands on his cheeks, pressed my l
ips to his, and held them steady. Our mix of tears dripped down my fingers.
“I love you.” He kissed me once. “I choose you.” He parted my lips. “Every day.” He groaned deeply, tasting me. “For the rest of my life.”
I rested my head on his strong shoulder. “I love you, Peter. So much.”
He held me until I melted into him. “I should let you get some rest.”
“Don’t go.”
He didn’t need me to ask him twice. He crawled under the covers with me and I found myself where I longed to be—in his arms, my head resting in its proper place, listening to the sound of his heart.
He rubbed my arms. “Let’s talk about the flannel.”
“What about it?”
“You look great in it, but there’s a lot of it.”
My fingers danced across his smooth chest. “What are you saying?”
“Only that I miss you and I brought plenty of T-shirts with me that I’m willing to share.”
“How very kind of you.”
“That’s the kind of guy I am.”
I laughed against his chest. “I’ll ditch the flannel tomorrow night. This baby has me exhausted.”
Peter’s hand found its way past the flannel where it rested on my bare abdomen. “We’re having a baby.” He couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice.
“I know. What are we going to do?” I had no idea how to take care of a baby.
“We’ll figure it out. Together.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me too.” He kissed my head. “I’ve been thinking.”
“What about?”
“If you don’t want to go back to Chicago, we won’t. We can move wherever you want. And I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said about running Sweet Feet. I think I’d like that, and I can do that from anywhere.”
I snuggled in closer to him. “I think you could do a lot of good with it. As for Chicago, I’ll think about it. There are some people there I really love. I want our baby to have the family I never had growing up.”
“Our baby is already the luckiest kid in the world to have you as their mom.”
“I don’t know, Peter. Look at what I did the first time around.”
The Secretive Wife (More Than a Wife Series Book 2) Page 28