by Erin Rylie
Sophie sat on the couch and looked over at him. He studied her face, trying to read her thoughts, desperate to figure out how she was feeling. He joined her on the couch, sitting on the opposite end to avoid making her feel uncomfortable.
Sophie cleared her throat, her hands in her lap. She fidgeted with the material of her floral-patterned skirt for a few moments before speaking.
“I believe you,” she said quietly.
The air whooshed out of Rafe’s lungs in one long breath. “Thank fuck, Sophie. I would never cheat on you. Never. You’re it for me.” He reached for her hand, and she pulled it away gently. Confused, he met her gaze. There were tears in her beautiful green eyes, and he knew things were about to go downhill quickly.
“I believe you, but that doesn’t change anything, Rafe. You’ll always get female attention, and with my past, I just don’t know that I can handle it. I don’t want to constantly worry about you, about this. I just don’t think that I can be with you.”
Rafe’s chest constricted and he lowered his head into his hands. Fuck, she believed him and it still wasn’t enough. She was still fucking leaving him.
“Sophie, you know I don’t want the attention. I don’t give two shits about the vapid women who fucking throw themselves at me because I’m a police officer, or because I look like a fucking stripper. You’re the only person whose opinion matters to me.”
Sophie was crying in earnest now, and he couldn’t fight the urge to comfort her anymore. Moving to her side of the couch, he took hold of her chin, tilting her face up so that he could wipe the tears from her cheeks. He kissed her lightly on the lips, trying to convey how he felt without words.
Sophie groaned and sunk into him, her tongue sweeping into his mouth. Her sweet taste filled his mouth and his heart soared. Nothing in his life had ever tasted better, had ever felt so fucking right. He moved his hands down her body, skimming past her breasts, his hands molding to the curve of her hips. He lifted her and pulled her into his lap, Sophie’s legs straddling his own. He thrust up, his hardening cock needing the contact. He was desperate for her, fucking ravenous. He needed to show her that she was all he’d ever want or need.
Rafe’s hands slipped up her thigh, and Sophie pulled away roughly, scrambling off his lap and stepping back. Her chest was heaving, her breaths coming rapidly.
“No, Rafe. I told you I can’t fucking do this.” She choked on a sob. “Do you have any idea what it felt like to see that picture of you kissing another woman? It was easily the worst moment of my life. I can’t—” Sophie gasped for breath, doubling over and wrapping her arms around herself.
When she had gained control of her breathing and looked up at him, her eyes were hard, resolved. “I can’t go through that again, Rafe. I won’t.”
Rafe didn’t know what to do or say. Her pain was palpable; he could feel it like it was his own, and something in him broke. He pulled at his hair, struggling to think of a way to change her mind. “Fuck! I don’t know what to do, Sophie. Tell me how to fix this and I’ll do it. I need to fix it, please.”
She shook her head and took another step back, tears still flowing freely. “There’s nothing, Rafe. We can’t be fixed.” She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her eyes.
“I got a job offer in New York today, and I’m considering it. I know it would complicate things with custody, but it’s my dream job. I haven’t made a decision yet, but I wanted you to know.”
Rafe jerked back, feeling as though he’d been slapped. A life without his baby? A life without Sophie? He felt the family he’d always wanted slipping through his fingers. Panic clawed its way up his throat, making his voice hoarse when he spoke.
“Sophie, please,” his voice broke, and he got down on his knees in front of her. “Please don’t take her away from me. I need you two, please don’t go. Don’t do this.”
He leaned forward, resting his head on her stomach. “This—you and our daughter—is all I’ve ever wanted. If you leave—”
Rafe stopped, unable to finish the sentence, but knowing that Sophie leaving would fucking destroy him.
“I don’t know yet, Rafe. I haven’t made the decision. I don’t want to take your daughter away from you, but I don’t want to turn down my dream job either.”
He stood, pacing the apartment once more, thinking through his options. He’d just been offered the detective position, but he hadn’t signed the paperwork yet. He could give up his dream job so that she could pursue hers, right? Fuck, he needed time to work this out, to come up with a plan.
Sophie stood from her spot on the couch. “I should go. Kelsey and I are having a girls’ night. I need to think things through, but I’ll call you.”
Rafe nodded and walked toward her. He placed one hand on her cheek, looking into her eyes, begging her to pay attention to the love there. “What about us, Sophie? Are you still thinking things through?”
“No, Rafe. I told you. I can’t do this with you. We can be co-parents, but I can’t be in a relationship that I’m not secure in.”
Without another word, Sophie pulled away from his grasp and turned, walking out the door and taking his baby with her. The sound of the lock engaging filled his apartment, and Rafe sunk to the floor, feeling as though he’d lost everything he’d ever wanted.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Eighteen Weeks Pregnant
The next week of Sophie’s life passed in a blur. She went to work, came home, ate her feelings, and cried herself to sleep alone in her bed. Never had a breakup hit her this hard. In the past she’d been sad, sure, but more angry than anything. Without Rafe though, all she felt was a crippling despair. More and more, she began to doubt her choices. Hadn’t Rafe proven at every given opportunity that he wasn’t like her exes?
Throughout their entire relationship, he’d been sweet and attentive, never making her feel second to anyone else, his eyes never straying in public. She knew deep down that he’d never actually cheat. Honestly, that knowledge was what made the entire situation so difficult. Sophie knew without a doubt that the issue was her own. Her past relationships had destroyed her confidence, making her doubt not only herself but the men she chose to let into her life.
Her fear was debilitating, and painful. Not only was she hurting herself, she was hurting Rafe—something she never wanted to do. Maybe down the road they could try to be together, once she’d grappled with her own demons and worked past her issues. With that goal in mind, she made an appointment with a therapist, determined to sort herself out. Her first session was the following day and she was feeling pretty hopeful about it.
In the meantime, she’d made a decision and needed to speak to her boss about it. Sophie took a deep breath, smoothed her dress over her baby bump, and walked to her boss’s office. The door was partially open, so Sophie knocked gently before entering. Karen was on the phone and smiled at Sophie while holding up her finger to indicate she needed a minute.
Sophie took a seat in front of Karen’s desk, running through her proposal in her head. She wasn’t sure what Karen would say about her idea, but she needed to at least try. All too soon, Karen hung up the phone and gave Sophie her full attention.
“I presume you’re here to turn in your two weeks’ notice? Sources tell me you’ve been offered a job in New York?”
Sophie cleared her throat, giving herself one more moment to gather her thoughts. “Actually, Karen, as much as I appreciate your help, I’m turning down the offer in New York. I’d love to live there, but I want to raise my child here, with family. Which brings me to my reason for being here. I would like to ask if it’s possible for me to copyedit only, and remotely. I’d like to start offering my editing services to indie authors and would need to be home to get that business off the ground. There are a lot of great authors out there who need freelance editors, and I would like to be that for them. Until I build a solid client base, though, I need to have a reliable source of income. Which is where, uh, you come in.”
Sophie snapped her mouth shut before she could continue to ramble. Deciding to stay in Houston had been easier than she’d thought. The job in New York had been a dream of hers for as long as she could remember, but she wanted to raise her child near her father and Rafe. A move would be selfish, and really, she could be an amazing editor anywhere. The indie market was only growing; now was the ideal time to start a freelance business. She really could have it all—her family nearby and a job she loved.
Unfortunately, Karen—a huge deciding factor in her new career path—had fallen completely silent. Her boss’s expression was difficult to read, but she looked as though she were trying to read Sophie’s thoughts. Her gaze was penetrating and just when Sophie was about to break and speak, Karen nodded, coming to a decision.
“You’re a damn good copyeditor, Sophie. I’d be stupid not to keep you on in some capacity. I can’t let you work completely remotely though. I would need you to come to the staff meeting once per week, and you will continue to have an office here. After the weekly meeting, I expect you to maintain four hours of office time. That way, our journalists and the rest of our team have access to you. Does that work?”
Sophie could hardly believe it. She had honestly expected a downright refusal, or at least for Karen to be upset that Sophie had wasted her coveted recommendation. After a moment, she realized that Karen was waiting for her to speak.
“Yes! That’s fantastic! Thank you so much, Karen!”
Karen shrugged, as though the offer was no big deal. “Hey, it’s a better option than losing one of my best editors. I think you’ll do great things, Sophie, and I’m honestly happy to hear that you’re staying. Now get out of my office; I have work to get done.”
Sophie laughed and left the office quickly. For the first time in a week, she had a genuine smile on her face. She may not have Rafe, but she had a plan for her life and for her baby. Things were starting to look up. It was only when she returned to her office and picked up her phone to call someone with the good news that the sadness returned. Her thumb hovered over Rafe’s name for a brief moment before moving down and selecting Kelsey’s. She was moving forward, but she still wasn’t ready to reach out to Rafe. She had more work to do first.
A month later, Sophie had successfully transitioned into working from home, setting up a small work area in the living room of the house she shared with Kelsey and James. She’d seen her new therapist weekly and was starting to feel better about herself. Sophie was beginning to realize that her trust issues ultimately stemmed from her relationship with her mother. It had been a hard truth to accept, and many tears had been shed that session, but she felt lighter afterwards.
At twenty-one weeks pregnant, her baby was now the size of a bok choy and was hungry enough that she ate pretty much constantly. Keeping Rafe in mind, she made sure all of her meals and snacks were healthy and full of protein. Though she still hadn’t spoken to Rafe on the phone or seen him, he checked in with her every few days, always asking about the baby’s health. He hadn’t tried to push her into talking to him or seeing him, for which she was grateful. She knew that the moment she saw him, she would need to be in his arms, feel his solid, comforting warmth surrounding her. She was making progress with herself, but she wasn’t quite ready yet.
She had told Rafe almost immediately that she’d turned down the job in New York, but she had yet to tell him about the business she was starting. His response to the news that she was staying in Houston had seemed subdued, but she knew that it was only because he was trying not to push her or get her hopes up. He really was such an incredible man, and she hoped that she could earn his forgiveness. The time apart was hard for her too, but she wanted to be sure that she was ready to handle a commitment without bolting again.
The ping of her phone interrupted her thoughts and she picked it up to read the text from Karen.
Karen: A letter to the editor just came across my desk. Thought you’d like to read it before it gets printed tomorrow. I’ve emailed it to you.
Sophie felt her brows knit in confusion. Letters to the editor didn’t need to be copyedited; they were usually printed as is. It was part of what made them so charming and sometimes humorous. She pulled up the tab on her laptop that contained her work email and clicked on her most recent message from Karen. What she saw there took her breath away.
* * *
Dear Editor,
First of all, thank you and your staff for the incredible series of features you wrote about me and my partner, Carlos. The reporter who shared our story did an incredible job. To be honest, she’s actually the reason I’m writing this letter.
You see, editor, I’m in love with her. Not the kind of love you see in the movies, not that Hollywood contrived version of it. Real, deep, meaningful love. The kind of love that changes a man.
Before that reporter, I had a hard time opening up, so sure that my past would lead to judgment and ridicule. She taught me that my past isn’t something to be ashamed of because it made me the man I am today. So here it is—the unedited, gory truth of my childhood.
I was orphaned at a young age, my mother overdosing on heroin right in front of me. Due to years of abuse and neglect, I was half starved and didn’t even know my own name. I named myself after a Ninja Turtle, actually, because I looked up to them.
I spent years in and out of foster care, sure that I would never find a family to love. Then, a nosy, frustrating, beautiful woman came into my life, and she somehow managed to give me everything I’d ever wanted.
Now I’m sure you’re wondering what the point of this letter is. I’m writing this letter to you as a declaration. Women of Houston: as flattering as the attention has been, I am as off the market as a man can be. Even though I’ve messed things up with my favorite reporter, I plan to spend the rest of my life winning her back. So, please, I beg you, if you see me on the street or on patrol, keep your hands and phone numbers to yourselves. Instead, feel free to give all of your attention to my ridiculous excuse for a partner, Carlos.
I only have eyes for one woman, and nothing anyone says or does will ever change that.
Yours Truly,
Rafe Pierce, Formerly ‘Houston’s Hot Cop’
* * *
Sophie read Rafe’s letter three times. It was absolutely perfect, a declaration of love and loyalty that she never imagined she would get or deserve. In that moment, all of her carefully laid plans and all of her fears flew out the window. She didn’t want to spend another minute away from Rafe. Already piecing an idea together, Sophie picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts. There was only one person in her life crazy enough to help her with what she wanted to do.
Chapter Thirty-Four
One whole month. That’s how long it had been since Rafe had last laid eyes on Sophie. Each moment was excruciating. He missed her so much that, at times, it was hard to breathe. At random moments throughout his day, he would find himself clutching his chest as though in physical pain. He’d like to say that he’d held it together these past weeks, but he hadn’t.
The entire first week of their separation had been a drunk blur. He’d become closely acquainted with a few very fine bottles of Scotch. It wasn’t until Carlos had slapped sense into him, literally, that Rafe had stopped wallowing and formulated a plan. The first thing he’d done was turn down the detective position. If Sophie wanted to move to New York, he would follow her. She’d told him that she’d turned down the position, but Rafe wanted her to know she had options. He could work his way up through the ranks again, but he would never find another Sophie.
Then, he’d waited, waited for Sophie to come to him. It took all of his self-restraint to only text her every few days to check in. It wasn’t just Sophie he missed, of course. He missed talking to his baby, feeling her kick, contemplating names for her with Sophie. Finally, he’d decided to make his move. It had been risky, writing to her newspaper and exposing his past and his emotions to the entire city. He was sure to get made fun of endlessly
at work, but it would all be worth it if his declaration made Sophie feel confident in him, in them.
He’d meant what he’d said in that letter too: he would never give up. He would spend his whole damn life fighting for Sophie. Of course, his dick was not pleased with this decision, and he was ashamed to admit he’d practically rubbed himself raw over the course of the last few weeks. Carlos had, naturally, suggested that he go to a bar for a random hookup. Rafe had responded with a sound punch to his friend’s jaw. Carlos had changed the subject quickly.
Rafe heard Carlos’s phone vibrate and looked over to see his partner grinning like a fool. Rafe scowled in return; he was not in the mood to hear about another of Carlos’s endless hookups.
“Hey man, we need to make a quick stop.”
“I’m hungry as hell, and you’re the one who dragged me out of the house to eat in the first place. You better not be using me for a ride to a fucking booty call.”
Carlos sighed. “I won’t lie, a hot lay would be nice right now. But that isn’t what this is about.”
Instead of giving Rafe an address to punch into his GPS, his partner gave him directions. Before long, Rafe began to recognize their surroundings and shot a confused look at Carlos.
“The courthouse? Why are we going to the courthouse, Carlos?”