“A schemer who wants you,” I correct.
Her smile falters. “You had six years. Why now?”
I search for the right words, the ones that might make her understand. “Because you’re here. Because you came here.” I pause, trying to articulate what’s been churning inside me since I saw her in the driveway. “Before this weekend, I didn’t know how to change what we’d become. We had one night together—one perfect night—and then spent the next nine months as adversaries.”
“You’re the one who made us adversaries.”
“I know.” The admission tastes bitter. “You were the first woman I’d been with. The only one.” Her eyes widen. “I didn’t handle things as I should’ve and by the time the DNA test came back positive, I thought it was too late to be anything other than co-parents.”
“What do you mean by ‘the only woman’?”
Heat crawls up my neck. This isn’t how I imagined having this conversation. “Exactly what it sounds like. You were my first sexual experience.”
“That’s—” She stops, starts again. “Enrick, that can’t be true.” Her voice wavers. She reaches out, gripping the wine rack beside her. “You were too confident. Too... skilled. The way you touched me, the way you—”
“Read a lot of books,” I say, attempting levity that falls completely flat. “Watched... educational materials. Wanted to make sure I knew what I was doing when the time came.”
“But you were twenty-four.” She’s still processing. “How is that even possible?”
“Focused on work, too picky, too scared of ending up with someone like Maverick’s ex. Take your pick.” I shrug, though there’s nothing casual about this admission. “The point is, when you called, my first thought wasn’t ‘I’m going to be a father.’ It was ‘this is medically impossible. I’d read somewhere that getting pregnant the first time was rare. That it took couples months, sometimes years.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. “You haven’t been with anyone since?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want anyone else. What we had—even for one night—felt like something I shouldn’t settle for less than.”
“That’s...” She trails off, something shifting in her expression. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on your one experience.”
“We had sex three times that night, if you recall,” I correct, and watch as she swallows hard.
“I remember,” she says softly.
“It was special,” I say. “At least to me.” My voice drops. “I have been on a few dates, but I end up comparing them to you.”
She looks away, fingers worrying at the hem of her sweater. “I haven’t been celibate.” The words come out rushed. “After Bella was born... once I felt ready... there have been other people. Not many, but—”
“I don’t care.” The interruption is immediate.
“You should care. You just told me I’m the only—”
“And you had every right to move on.” I step closer, keeping my voice low. “I abandoned you while you were carrying ourchild. I gave you no reason to wait for me. Whatever you did, whoever you were with—that’s not something you need to apologize for.”
“You’re really okay with it?”
“Okay is the wrong word.” Honesty. I promised her honesty. “Am I jealous as hell thinking about someone else touching you? Yes. Do I wish I’d been the only man you’d ever been with? Absolutely.” I move closer still. “But do I have any right to judge you for living your life when I wasn’t part of it? No, not even a little.”
“Enrick—”
“I want to be your last. I’m going to be your last.” The words come out confidently. “Whatever it takes, however long, I’m going to prove I’m worth another chance.”
Desiree lets out a shaky breath. She turns away from me, arms wrapped around herself.
“Something happened that day,” she says quietly, “the day I called you.”
I go still. “What day?”
