by Lily Foster
“No.” I shake my head. “Her dad made a joke once that Sam had her heart set on wearing her grandmother’s ring. Like, ‘Just say the word, Simon, and I’ll get it out of the safe.’ If she’s referring to that, the idea is so far fetched it’s delusional.”
“After she left, I was right back to doubting whether or not you truly want to be with me or if you’re just doing this out of a sense of duty.” She cuts me off again when I go to refute her. “I just want you to know that I don’t need you.” She wipes her eyes and fixes me with a look that’s sure and calm. “I want you, Simon, and I love you, but I can stand on my own two feet.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Charlotte
“Are we good?”
When I nod, he pulls me in close and kisses the top of my head.
Last night Simon stayed in the guestroom. We were both spent after going nine rounds thanks to Samantha’s meddling, and even though we settled everything, it still feels a little raw between us.
“I never want to do that again,” I tell him.
Simon gives me a lopsided smile that melts my heart. “Me either, but what specifically are you referring to?”
“I never want to fight with you and then go our separate ways.”
“Even though I was just downstairs, I know what you mean. I was itching to knock on your door last night, just to make sure we were ok.”
“Same here. I needed you next to me last night.”
“About that…We’ve never discussed—”
“Mommy, can you make pancakes?” Ethan’s rubbing his eyes as he makes his way down the stairs. When he sees Simon standing in the kitchen he practically launches himself into the air as Simon swoops him up into his arms. “Daddy’s here!”
“I’m here,” Simon says, nuzzling his face into Ethan’s side, tickling him in the process.
I turn to him smiling. “To be continued?”
With Ethan still in his arms, he moves in closer, making a sandwich out of the three of us as he presses into me. “Yes, to be continued.” He alternates between blowing raspberries on Ethan’s neck and then mine before whispering, “Put chocolate chips and blueberries in my pancakes, woman.”
“My pancakes too, woman,” Ethan calls out as they head out onto the back deck.
Simon has been pushing it these past few weekends, dropping kisses on me in front of Ethan, pulling me in close when the three of us sit on the couch together to read a book or watch a movie. It doesn’t worry me anymore. In fact, I’ve come to crave the intimacy, the devotion he demonstrates towards both me and Ethan.
Last night was the exception, but not a night goes by where he doesn’t creep upstairs and sneak into bed with me. I’m on birth control now, and this time I chose a more foolproof method so we’re free to do what we want, but sometimes he just tucks himself in behind me and holds me close. I like that too. He’s been back in my life for less than three months, I should be cautious, but I can’t help but believe this is real—that Simon loves us and wants us to be to be together.
“What have you got planned this week?” he asks as I’m putting away the breakfast dishes.
“My final papers are due for both classes by Thursday. I’m almost done, just some edits left to do. Why?”
“My internship ends next week. I’m going to start packing up. I was thinking…”
“It doesn’t make sense to bring your stuff up here. Maybe I’ll head down there next week and help you. I’m sure Lawrence can watch Ethan overnight. We can pack you up and move your stuff to Ann Arbor.”
“Are you all right with—”
“With you moving in?”
“Yeah. Is that taking things too fast for you?”
“I think it’s the right thing to do.” I busy myself drying the serving platter, avoiding his eyes when I add, “I want us to be together.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and whispers, “You make me so happy, do you know that? I’m going to spend my life making you happy too.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Simon
She looks especially beautiful today. Dressed in a simple while dress, holding a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand and Ethan’s little hand in the other, I’m feeling overwhelmed in such a good way.
I’ve wanted to do this since not long after the day I moved in with them, but Charlotte has her own mind, and I’ve learned she doesn’t like to be rushed. We started talking about marriage—conversations initiated by me—right from the beginning. I needed to establish my paternity legally, and I didn’t see why we should wait to be married. I loved her, always had, and I knew my feelings would never change. But my girl needed some time, nearly two years as it turns out. She needed to be in it with me, living life day to day, getting through not just the easy times, but the tantrums, stomach bugs, and the disagreements that occasionally popped up between us.
We’re assembled at the courthouse this morning. Judge Michaels pulled some strings and got us a private room for the civil ceremony with his good friend, the Honorable Vincent D’Angelo presiding. Judge Michaels, a Michigan Law alum, is the one I now turn to for advice and guidance, and he’s been generous with his time. It’s his name and reference that secured the summer associate position I took after my second year, which led to the job offer I recently accepted. I’m not going to lie, it’s not as prestigious as the position I would have been accepting at one of the big firms based in Chicago, but along with those big salaries come six-day, ninety-hour work weeks and lots of travel. I don’t want that life. I want to come home to my family every night. I want to be around on the weekends. So instead, I’ve opted for a well-respected firm in Michigan, one that specializes in patent and intellectual property rights law. The fact that they’re also committed to taking on a set number of high-profile pro bono cases is what sold me. The reason I went into law in the first place, my brother Timmy, will never be forgotten.
It’s a banner week. I’m getting married to the love of my life this morning, tomorrow I will officially graduate from law school, and on Friday Charlotte will get to walk across a stage for the first time and have an esteemed member of the faculty hand over the diploma that represents four years of her blood, sweat and tears. I know she’s as excited as I am. It’s a heady feeling when you realize you’re about to reach a goal you set for yourself so long ago. I go back there for a moment, to all the late nights, the struggles, the worry and heartache I experienced along the way, but then switch gears. I want to focus on that peaceful feeling, the one that comes after a hard-fought victory.
Charlotte brings me peace. She’s always had the power to ease what raged inside of me, to comfort me. To be her family—to be her man—is an honor.
I lock eyes on Ethan, catch a moment when he’s looking up at Charlotte, smiling at something his mother has said. Watching the two of them together like this can sometimes feel so good it hurts.
I wonder how he’ll take the news. At five years old, he’s thriving. Charlotte was nervous as hell sending him off to kindergarten last fall, but he’s taken to it like a fish to water. His teacher gushes over how smart he is at every parent-teacher conference, and makes a point saying how helpful and kind he is too. I feel like a proud papa bear when I walk out of those meetings, and feel the same as I watch him playing with his classmates after school. He’s made plenty of friends—hell, every kid in his class was at his birthday party last month. My son is pretty much always smiling, running around with Moe or pounding away on the piano we bought second hand, you know, just in case professional soccer is taken off the table by his doctor someday down the road—Charlotte’s still a bit of a worry wart. He’s so easygoing and upbeat, I can’t imagine he’ll be anything but pumped when we decide to sit him down and tell him he’s going to be a big brother.
Charlotte and I decided to start trying a few months ago, and just like last time, it happened right away. Unlike last time, though, I’m going to be by her side every step of the way.
Ours is consider
ed a high-risk pregnancy, so we’ve already been to see the specialists who cared for Ethan and continue to do so. I’m not afraid the way Charlotte is. Maybe I’m being naïve, but I just have this feeling everything is going to work out fine.
I’m already looking forward to holding this child, being one of the first voices he or she hears upon entering the world, and then sitting next to Ethan, supporting him when he gets to hold his baby brother or sister. And I’ll be there when Charlotte nurses our child for the first time. I finally fessed up a few months ago one night when we were looking through Ethan’s baby album together. That first time I saw the picture of her feeding Ethan, I thought it was hot, maybe the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. She laughed, told me I sounded like a total perv, but deep down I knew she understood. It was more than that. She was amazing in my eyes. Ethan was bare except for a diaper, she was holding him skin on skin, and there was nothing he needed that she couldn’t provide—her body kept him warm, her body protected him, her body nourished him. It’s a sight so powerful, so womanly, that it never fails to take my breath away.
He’s dressed like a miniature version of me today, down to the suit and tie. I’ve caught him looking the mirror checking himself out a few times. He’s freaking adorable, and I’m not just saying that because he’s mine.
I will pledge my love and fidelity to Charlotte this morning, but those are the standard lines they feed you, just some ceremonial ritual. I’m reciting my real vows right now, in silence. I am making a vow to love them, to protect them, and to do everything in my power, for every day I have on this earth, to deserve them.
Charlotte
It’s a small group, but every person in this room is meaningful.
Ethan is wiped out, the evidence of the second piece of cake his grandmother allowed smeared across his tie.
This morning he insisted on wearing a tie and a belt, just like his father. Lawrence got a kick out of that, being as how Ethan used to insist on wearing a fur lined trapper hat in the summertime before Simon was in the picture.
“He was born in the Upper Peninsula, so he’ll always be a Yooper.”
“Will I ever be one?” Barbara teases.
“Nope, you’re a fair weathered girl, through and through. You won’t even come along when I take the boys ice fishing.”
She heads up to see her “friend” Lawrence at least once a month, sometimes with her sons, sometimes without. They don’t feel the need to put a label on it, but I hope one day they’ll make it official.
“Grammy,” Ethan whines, and I look over to see Simon’s mother smile from ear to ear, just as she does every time he calls her name—or breathes air for that matter. “Can I have more cake?”
She looks to me and I shrug my shoulders. She only gets to spend time with her grandson in person a few times a year, so there’s no way I’ll ask her to play the role of disciplinarian.
“Maybe we’ll share a piece. How does that sound?”
Next week he’ll be back to his routine of healthy foods and adequate rest, but for now I can let it slide. It’s not every day he has his entire family in one place.
I see the way Michael and Brandon look over at him every few minutes before looking back to one another smiling. They can hardly wait. Brandon’s high school girlfriend, of all people, agreed to surrogate for them, and she’s due to give birth to their twins in late August. That will be Simon and Ethan’s first time on an airplane. Ethan is excited, but I think Simon is nervous.
Ethan has grandparents, he has uncles, he has Barbara and Arlene as de-facto aunts, and soon he’ll have cousins.
He has a mother and a father who love him, and parents who love one another. And as of today, we all share the same name.
It was important to Simon, and now it’s official. Ethan is legally Ethan Mason Wade and I am Charlotte Mason Wade. My husband, the father of my child, is Simon Mason Wade.
He took my name too. It was his idea.
It’s hard to shock me, but he did this morning when he said, “It’s how it should be. I want the names Mason and Wade to be together, for all of us.”
“You’d take a name that caused you so much pain?”
He moved in close, wrapped his arms around me from behind as I was putting in my earrings.
“I want your name because I love you.” Meeting my eyes in the mirror, he added, “And love will always be stronger than hate.”
Thank you for reading, and I hope you fell in love with Simon and Charlotte the way I did when I was writing their love story.
Ready for more? Dive right into the next book in the Blackbird series:
Your Hand in Mine
I’ve always been half of someone else.
One half of the Perillo twins, Sienna and Skylar.
One half of the most popular couple in our senior class, Tyler and Skylar. Or TyLar, as we were more commonly called, because yes, we were right up there with all the great couples of our time: Kimye, Brangelina, Robsten.
You get the picture. I’ve never gone it alone.
But that’s where I find myself at the age of twenty. Out on my own for the first time in my life, I’m excited for the opportunities and possibilities that lie beyond the border of the small town I’ve never been bold enough to leave.
A chance encounter with a rude, tatted-up grump tips my world off its axis.
I don’t usually judge based on first impressions, but I’ve judged Leo Hale, and I'll soon come to realize that I’ve gotten him all wrong.
Your Hand in Mine is a stand-alone romance in Lily Foster's Blackbird Series. Captivating and emotional, these contemporary new adult romances are intended for the 18 and older crowd due to mature language and sexual content.
Also by Lily Foster
The Let Me Series
Let Me Be the One
Let Me Love You
Let Me Go
Let Me Heal Your Heart
Let Me Fall
When I Let You Go
The Blackbird Series
When the Night is Over
Your Hand in Mine
Ghost on the Shore
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Copyright © 2020 by Lily Foster
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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