by Street, K.
Reluctantly, I broke the kiss. “I’m sorry.” I dropped my forehead to hers.
“Don’t be.”
I cupped her face between my palms. “A little girl. I can’t believe we’re having a little girl.”
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “Me either.”
I hugged her body to mine as close as possible without crushing her.
Her arms snaked around my sides as she rested her head on my chest.
I blocked out the conversation I’d had with my dad. I ignored the business card I’d shoved into my wallet with the attorney’s number on it. I disregarded all the shit in my head and threw all the self-imposed rules out the window. For tonight, we could pretend that she wasn’t broken. That she hadn’t broken me. I wouldn’t think about how she’d lied to me or how it only further compounded my lack of trust in her.
Beneath all the bullshit, I still loved her. The haunted look in her eyes earlier had damn near slayed me. Tonight, I wanted to hold her in my arms. She needed it, and so did I.
“Firefly?”
“Hmm?”
“Sleep in my bed tonight. Just sleep. Let me hold you.”
“All right.”
After we took separate showers, I met Molly back in the living room. She was sexy as hell, dressed in an oversize T-shirt that hit her mid-thigh, hair still damp. I resisted the urge to haul her into my arms. To press my lips to hers. As badly as I wanted her, it wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight.
“Ready?”
“Yes. I’m exhausted.” The yawn she attempted to stifle and the dark half-moons beneath her eyes were proof.
On our way to my bedroom, she fell in step beside me as I locked up and turned off the lights. Once inside, Molly plugged her phone charger into the wall and connected her cell to it.
“Did you remember to set your alarm?”
“I did,” she confirmed.
I double-checked my own and plugged it in on my side of the bed before pulling back the covers.
The sheets rustled as Molly slipped beneath them on the same side of the bed that had once been hers when she stayed over.
I reached for the remote that controlled the ceiling fan and the light on my nightstand. I slid in next to her, pushed the button to kill the lights, and sidled up next to her. She lay on her side, and I spooned her from behind, protectively splaying my large palm over our daughter tucked safely inside her mother’s womb.
“Did you text Paige to tell her the news?”
Molly giggled. “Of course I did. She threatened to pummel my ass if I didn’t. What about you? Did you call your parents and sister?”
“Nah. I’ll tell them tomorrow.”
“You think they’ll be excited?”
“They’ll be over the moon.”
She let out a content sigh.
“Good night, Firefly,” I whispered.
She snuggled into me. “Hey, East?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do you call me firefly?”
I bent my free arm, resting my chin in my palm. “The first time I saw you, I thought you were radiant. There was this fire in your eyes. A sort of energy that seemed to burn from the inside out; like a firefly.”
“That’s kind of beautiful.”
So are you.
In mere minutes, her breathing regulated, and I knew she was fast asleep. I lay awake for a long time, holding on to her. Memorizing the curve of her frame tucked against mine. The shape of her body might have changed, but it still felt so familiar.
I had spent many sleepless nights lying in bed, staring into the darkness and trying to recall how it’d felt to hold her. I pressed my lips to the side of her head and inhaled her scent. She was right here, in my arms, but thinking about how much I’d missed her over the past several months caused a physical ache in my chest.
Molly’s belly moved beneath my hand. The corners of my mouth tipped into a grin at the antics of the little girl I’d yet to meet. I made a silent vow to love, protect, and always be there for her, no matter the cost.
* * *
When I arrived at work on Monday morning, I dug the business card out of my wallet and made a phone call to the law firm of Fisher Family Law. I left a message with Tommy Fisher’s secretary along with my cell number.
I put in nearly two hours before I left the office to meet Molly at her doctor’s appointment. Traffic wasn’t awful, so I made good time. As I pulled into the parking lot where Dr. Wilson’s office was located, my cell rang.
“Hello. This is Easton Chadwick.”
“Easton, Tommy Fisher here.”
“Hello, Mr. Fisher.”
“Tommy is fine. How’s your dad? I haven’t seen him in a coon’s age. I wonder if his golf game has improved.” His hearty laughter filled my ear.
“Probably not,” I admitted. “How are you, sir?”
“I’m well. Thanks for asking. I got your message. What can I do you for, young man?”
“I have a few questions I’d like to run by you.”
“Shoot.”
My eyes roamed the cab of my truck. “It’s complicated.”
“Son, it’s always complicated.” His low chuckle put me at ease. “I assure you, after all these years, I’ve heard damn near everything.”
“All right. My former girlfriend and I ended up having a one-night stand, and now, she’s pregnant.”
“Are you sure it’s yours?”
“The baby’s mine. We’re trying to figure things out as far as our relationship. If that doesn’t happen, I still want to be in my kid’s life.”
“Under Georgia law, if a child is born out of wedlock, the mother retains all rights to the child by default. As far as your rights go, paternity has to be established.”
“Exactly how do I do that?”
“You’ll sign the birth certificate, but that isn’t enough. You’ll also need to sign an acknowledgment of paternity form. I’d recommend getting a DNA test. It will substantiate your claims of paternity. If the court becomes involved, they’ll likely order one anyway.”
I wasn’t thrilled about the DNA test, but if I waited until the baby was born, I could take care of it, and Molly wouldn’t be any wiser. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.
“Sounds simple enough.”
“Nothing is ever quite that easy. If you want to be granted visitation or file for joint custody, you’ll most likely need to file for legitimation. In many cases, acknowledging paternity isn’t enough. If you file for legitimation, you’ll need to include your custody wishes in the petition. The court rarely awards visitation automatically.”
My head threatened to explode with all the legal rhetoric.
So much for simple.
“If you decide to file for legitimation, just give my office a call, and we’ll get the ball rolling when the time comes.” He hesitated for a beat before he spoke again, “Of course, there is an easier way.”
I sat taller. “What’s that?”
“Marry her.”
I coughed to cover my sharp inhale, pretending like he hadn’t just sucker-punched me in the gut. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Tommy. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Give your parents my best.”
“Will do,” I agreed and then hung up the phone.
The back of my head thudded against the headrest. I sat, staring into space while trying to digest the information. I didn’t need a DNA test. I didn’t want to file a petition with the court. I wanted Molly and me to get on the same page fucking yesterday. I wanted her living in my house, so we could raise our daughter together, and someday, I wanted my ring on her finger. None of that would happen until I found out why she’d left.
Trust was the basis of every relationship. It was possible to love someone and not trust them, but without trust, the foundation wasn’t strong enough to build on.
Twenty-Five
Molly
Something was up with Easton. I didn’t know what, but I couldn’t sha
ke the niggling feeling in my gut. He’d seemed off when he met me at the doctor’s office today. Like he was preoccupied, but it was more than that.
Unable to stand it another second, I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone before flopping on the couch and tossing my bag next to me.
Me: Are you busy?
His response came almost immediately.
Easton: Just hanging with Knox. I have a few minutes. What’s up?
My fingers hovered over the keys.
Me: Is something w—
Delete.
Me: I just wanted to check on you. You seemed a little distracted earlier. Everything okay?
Easton: I’m fine.
Well, okay then.
Easton: What about you?
Me: I’m fine, too.
Easton: I was getting ready to text you. Are you busy Saturday?
Let’s see. Am I busy Saturday?
The payment on my student loan is due Thursday, which means I’ll be broke before the weekend and I can’t afford to do anything. My calendar is wide open—at least for the next several weeks.
Me: I don’t have any plans.
Easton: Good. I thought we could talk. How does lunch sound?
Me: Lunch sounds great.
Easton: I’ll pick you up around noon.
Me: I’ll see you then.
Easton: Going to shoot hoops with Knox. Talk later?
Me: Sure.
The niggling feeling I had only intensified.
Twenty-Six
Easton
“Hi,” Molly greeted me as she opened the door on Saturday afternoon.
She leaned against the doorframe in a soft, flowing pink dress that hugged her breasts and accentuated her baby bump. Her hair woven into a French braid and a nervous smile on her lips.
“Hey.” I leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek.
“You never said where we were going, so I hope what I’m wearing is okay.”
“You look beautiful. What you have on is perfect.”
Molly grabbed her purse and locked up the house. Once we were inside the truck, I glanced over to her before starting the truck and backed out of the driveway.
“I made reservations at Ruth’s Chris Steak House for lunch. Then, I thought if you felt up to it, we could stroll around Centennial Olympic Park.”
“That sounds great. I think the last time I walked around the park was with you.”
My gaze shifted from the road to her face. Nostalgia and something I couldn’t quite read flared in her eyes.
I turned my attention back to the road. “It’s kind of funny when you think about it. Here we are, close to this huge city people flock to, and we rarely take advantage of the culture at our fingertips.”
“I think most people are just trying to make it from one moment to the next. It’s easy to get caught in the mundane without ever taking time to look around you. Next thing you know, you’re eighty-five, wondering where in the hell the time went.”
“That’s depressing.”
“Right?” Her light laughter filled the cab. “Tell it to the little old woman who bestowed her wisdom on me in the produce section last night.”
“Are you serious?”
“That’s what happens when you linger a little too long over the tomatoes.” Her voice took on a different pitch as she imitated the old woman. “ ‘Don’t squander your life, honey. Be adventurous. Read all the books. Go to all the places. Have really great sex. Clearly, you’ve had sex. Hopefully, it was something to write home about. Take it from me; life is too short for bad sex. Do all the things, child. Because when you get to be my age, regret is a bitch.’ ”
We both laughed long and hard. Molly had tears streaming down her cheeks. Minutes passed before we were finally able to get ourselves under control.
“What did you say to her?”
Molly wiped her eyes. “I didn’t even know how to respond. Before we parted ways, she told me her next-door neighbor, Walter, had his hip replaced. She was making him dinner, and then they were going to test it out.” Molly mimicked the old woman again. “ ‘Wish me luck, honey. Here’s hoping I don’t add Walter to the list of things I regret.’ ”
“No way.”
“Way. I totally wished her luck, too.”
By the time we made it to the restaurant, our sides ached from laughing.
We perused the menu and placed our order. The conversation was effortless.
I’d missed this.
I’d missed her.
Things with us used to be so easy. It was part of the reason her leaving had come as such a shock.
After lunch, I drove the short distance to one of the parking garages near the park and went around to open Molly’s door.
“I can’t believe you found a spot at street level.”
I didn’t miss the look of relief on her face.
She wasn’t a fan of parking garages. During the day, she could deal, but at night, they creeped her the hell out. Such a small, random detail. One of hundreds I knew about this woman beside me. On one hand, I knew her so well; on the other, maybe I didn’t know her at all.
With my palm at the small of her back, I guided her out of the garage and toward the park. The noise of the city rang out around us. Car horns blared, children laughed, and somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed.
It wasn’t until we passed the garden pavilions and made our way toward Centennial Tree before I finally broke the silence between us.
“Tell me why you left.”
She slipped her hands into the hidden pockets of her dress and stared at the ground in front of her as we walked.
Several beats passed, and when she didn’t say anything, I pushed. “One minute, we were making plans and talking about the future, and the next, I came home …” I didn’t need to finish the sentence. “You have to give me an answer. It’s the only way we’re ever going to move on from this.”
“While you were gone on that business trip, I found the ring. I’d stumbled upon it by accident when I was putting away your laundry.”
I hadn’t seen that coming. “How come you never said anything?”
“I didn’t know what to say. I was a mess, and you had no idea. You only knew the parts of me I’d let you see. You were in love with a person who didn’t exist.”
“How can you say that? You lied about your upbringing. Unless you’re a felon or living some sort of double life, you are still the woman I fell in love with.”
Molly remained silent and with every step we took, my frustration grew.
“Let’s head back.” I abruptly turned in the direction we had come. I didn’t want to have this conversation surrounded by people.
Weighty tension sucked up the oxygen in the cab as we drove back to Molly’s house. When I pulled up in front of her place, I put the truck in park and left it running, making no attempt to get out.
“The lie isn’t the issue. You didn’t trust me.”
“People have been leaving me my whole life. I was afraid you would do the same thing. So, I left before you had the chance to leave me.”
I gripped the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turned white. “Do you have any idea how fucked up that is? You didn’t even give me a chance to prove you wrong. You decided.” I twisted to look at her. “What are you going to do when the baby is born? Are you going to run away then? When things get too hard, will you leave her, too?”
Twenty-Seven
Molly
I raised a palm to my cheek, fully expecting it to be met with heat. The sting radiated through my body, a physical reaction to Easton’s emotional blow.
“No.” It came out in a mere whisper, weak to my own ears. “No,” I repeated. “God. No!” Louder. Stronger. Unwavering. “I won’t leave her. Not ever.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because … I’m not my mother.”
“Neither am I.”
It wasn’t anger oozing from his words, but hurt. Raw and
visceral. Dripping from every syllable. And I finally got it.
I had been too consumed by my own brokenness to see what I had done to him. To us.
Unbuckling my seat belt, I moved closer to him. My arms snaked around his neck, holding on with everything I had.
“I’m sorry for leaving, and I’m sorry for the way I hurt you.” Salty rivers flowed over my cheeks. Emotion bled through the cracks in my voice. “P-please. Please don’t give up on m-me.”
I clung to him like a lifeline.
He didn’t make any promises.
He made no move to wrap me in his arms.
Rejection ripped through me, burning me down to my marrow.
And still …
I held on.
I didn’t run.
As difficult as it was, I didn’t let go.
If we sat in my driveway until the sun dipped below the horizon and stars blanketed the night sky, until every bit of gas burned out of his tank, I wasn’t letting go.
Letting go was easy. It was harder to fight. To choose it over flight.
I never had been much of a fighter.
Until now.
I would fight for this.
For him.
For us.
Gradually, his body began to relax. Soon, one arm went around my back and the other on my belly. He finally hugged me back.
No empty promises were spoken.
As much as I loved words, sometimes, you just didn’t need them.
Twenty-Eight
Easton
I had no idea how long we sat in my truck, holding on to each other. Eventually, I killed the engine and peeled her body from mine.
“Let’s get you inside.”
She nodded, wiped her face with the backs of her hands, and inched back across the seat.