I walk to the full-length mirror positioned in the corner of my room, turning sideways to observe how the baby pink party dress fits me. I had hoped that putting on makeup and fancy clothes might elevate me from the dumps, but I’ve had no such luck. My chest burns with the pain of how Knox treated me the last time we were together.
Gone was any trace of the tenderness he’d given me before.
I was a body. Nothing more.
He didn’t kiss me or praise me or soothe me.
Just a quick, crude fuck to breed a female. Nothing more.
I lay a hand on my stomach and imagine it swelling larger with Knox’s baby.
I might not have to imagine it much longer, because my period is late. Only by one day so far, but even that small of a delay is unusual for me. I’m terrified that I might be pregnant. I’m also hoping that I am. If he was serious about bequeathing my family the ranch in exchange for a son, then I have to play the hand I’m dealt.
Would Knox let me be involved in the baby’s life?
Would Knox wantmein his life, too? Would this baby connect us forever?
I must not have shaken my entire naivete, because I desperately hope so. I can’t imagine a life without Knox in it, as horrible and destructive as that sounds. We connected, though, didn’t we? Deeply? It couldn’t all have been make-believe.
The weight of missing him certainly isn’t a dream.
Happy voices carry down the hallway to my room, telling me our guests have arrived. I have no choice but to go down and participate in my own birthday, even though my heart is in pieces.
With a deep breath, I open my bedroom door, pasting a smile on my face as I enter the kitchen and greet everyone. Hugging my aunt, uncle and grandma. My mother seems to know I’m notone hundred percent myself, because she mouthsare you okayat me three separate times. I nod in response, hoping to reassure her. Hoping to reassure myself, too.
I distract myself by helping my mother take the chicken noodle casserole out of the oven. It was my favorite meal as a child and she continues to make it for me every single birthday, even though my palate has evolved. It’s tradition, though, and it comforts me now. The six of us sit down at the long table beneath the antler chandelier, my uncle and father deep in discussion about cattle prices.
I’m scooping servings of casserole onto everyone’s plates when there’s a knock at the door. My uncle stops talking and everyone’s head whips toward the door.
“Who could that be?” my mother asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
“I have no idea,” I say honestly, setting down the serving spoon. “I’ll go see.”
I’m halfway to the door when awareness warms the skin of my neck, my cheeks. My pulse begins to speed, my steps a tad clumsy. We did invite Knox Morgan to my dinner birthday, but he didn’t actuallyshow up. Right?
After I told him I never wanted to see or speak to him again?
Please be here. Please be him.
I’m flushed and incapable of breathing as I open the door, a small sound bubbling from my mouth when I find Knox looking down at me from the other side of the threshold.
He doffs his hat, his breath hissing out of him like a rush of escaping helium.
Those weary, dark green eyes race to take me in, top to bottom.
I do much the same with him, I’m sure. How could I not when he looks so gorgeous in jeans and a button-down shirt, face shaved, hair still wet from a shower?
“Billie, my God…” He shakes his head. “You look fucking beautiful.”
“You look beautiful, too,” I whisper, without thinking.You’re supposed to be angry at him. No, I am still angry.He was horrible to me the last time we were together.
I shake my hair back with a sniff.
“What are you doing here?” I say quietly, not wanting my family to overhear. “I told you I never wanted to see you again.”
“Yes, you did. And you had every right.” He grips the frame of the door and leans toward me, his intense gaze running laps around my face. “I should be condemned to hell for the way I treated you.”
My heart slams into my ribcage. “Yes, you should.”
