When I can barely manage to voice my own apology through a stream of tears, Victor opens his arms and I gladly walk into them. As they close around me, I hear him say with familiar warmth, “It’s good to have you back, brat.”
LATER THAT NIGHT, THE PEAL of the doorbell yanks me awake. When I roll over and nearly fall face-first off the couch, I remember where I am and why. After a wonderful dinner where I had reconnected with Victor and Gabi, gotten to know Isabelle, and spent time with Dwayde, I went home to meet my friends. Over two bottles of Merlot I told them about my pregnancy and my loss. They were supportive as I tearfully recounted my regrets and shared the joy of having my family back. Once Lexie and Jordyn left, feeling tipsy but too restless to sleep, I changed into PJs and curled up under a blanket to watch TV with another glass of wine. I must have drifted off.
Squinting at the screen, I determine that the eleven o’clock news is under way. As my foggy brain clears, I don’t have to wonder who’s here at this hour. The sudden fullness that floods my chest tells me. Climbing to my feet, I pad through the dark house to the foyer and crack open the door.
Silhouetted against the backdrop of a moonlit, rainy night, Mick takes my breath away. He’s wearing jeans and a hoodie. His mussed waves are dewy and his five o’clock shadow looks more like the eleven o’clock shadow that it is. I’d think I was dreaming if not for the kiss of cool, damp air, confirming I’m wide awake and that the beautiful man in front of me is real.
But he’s no less out of reach.
“I know it’s late,” he says, his turbulent gaze sweeping down the length of my flannel pajamas. “But I had to see for myself that you were okay.” He looks at me closely. “You’ve been crying.”
“I’m fine,” I lie.
“I’m not.” He steps over the threshold and kicks the door closed before he hauls me against him for a fierce embrace. I can feel the slight shake of his body as his buries his face in my hair.
“I’m sorry you worried,” I say, hugging him back. “I left you a note.”
“I didn’t want to wake up to a note. I wanted to wake up toyou. God, Dee,” he murmurs hoarsely. “Finding you gone again made me crazy.” He pulls back only far enough to gaze down at me. “When I finally saw your note I understood you needed this time to reunite with the family. I stayed away and let you do it alone. I knew you needed that too. But don’t ask me to stay away any longer. Or to love somebody else. That could never happen.” He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “You’re the one who makes me happy, Dee. You’re the one I love.”
“Mick…” I breathe.
“Don’t shut me out,” he pleads, and scoops me up into his arms.
In his embrace, I’m achingly aware of how incredible he smells…of how amazing he feels. Mick takes me to the couch and sits down. One arm is around my waist and the other is beneath my knees as he cradles me on his lap and nuzzles beneath my ear. “Tell me what’s scaring you, and we’ll figure it out together this time.”
What he’s doing is immensely distracting. I close my eyes, tightening my arms around his shoulders. How do I let him go when all I want is to hold on? “There are so many things that scare me about us, Mick.”
“Start with one and we’ll take it from there,” he urges me, raising his head to give me every ounce of his attention.
I inhale deeply to calm my frazzled nerves. “You’re a responsible man.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not bad, no. But I fear it makes you want to be with me for the wrong reason.”
He draws his arm from beneath my knees to sift his hand through my curls. “What reason do you think that is?”
“You feel guilty that I lost the baby.”
“Of course I do,” he admits.
“It wasn’t your fault, Mick.” I smooth out the grieved frown creasing his forehead. “I wish I could have spared you from ever knowing about it.”
“No, don’t ever think that. Keeping that secret was eating you up inside.” He captures my hand and rubs his thumb over the knuckles. “I’m not confusing my feelings for you with guilt, Dee.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
There’s no hesitation in his response. “I walked through your office door more than a week ago without a clue as to why you left. Mad as hell, I expected to feel only anger but I didn’t. I fought it. I hurt you. I tried to talk myself into a coldhearted seduction. All because I didn’t want to still be in love with you. But I was and now that I know the truth, I love you even more.” He brings my palm to rest against his left pectoral. Through the soft cotton, the pulsing of his heart beats straight to my soul. “Guilt has nothing to do with what’s in here. I want to be with you, Dee, because of everything you mean to me and everything you are. You’re strong and brave—”
“No. Don’t put me up on some pedestal, Mick. I’m still pretty screwed up from my childhood. The miscarriage only added to my issues. I have scars that may never fully heal.”
“I have scars, too. You know the demons I carry. And now I know yours. We’ll help each other through them. Chase the ghosts away.”
I look into his expectant eyes. He’s not acquainted with all my demons. I should tell him, but the words won’t come. “We can’t just fall into an old relationship and pick up from where we left off.”
“I realized that today when I tried to write. After retiring,” he explains, “I had this idea to turnPrincess Dionna and the Dark Shadowinto a book series under a pen name. I was going to succeed or fail on my own terms, not because I’m Micah Peters. But in four months I’ve made zero progress. I haven’t written anything worthwhile. And today I finally got what was standing in my way.”
“What?”
