It doesn’t take a genius to realize how terribly I’ve failed her—first by not protecting her when I promised I would, then by not showing up at the hospital when she needed me.
Now by deceiving her into falling for me again, when she’s spent the past eight years wondering who she is.
I’m despicable.
Nothing can make up for all the mistakes I’ve made.
But right now would be the time to come clean.
To tell her exactly who Stephanie is—and who she is to me.
But the guilt that weighs on my conscience traps the words in my throat, and the pain in her eyes only intensifies the feeling.
“She’s not…” Stephanie closes her eyes, color infusing her cheeks, and she swallows hard before looking at me again. “You’re not married, are you?”
Shock jolts through me, and I sit up. “No.No,” I insist when doubt flashes across her face. “It’s nothing like that. Stephanie is… She was someone I cared about and lost a long time ago.”
Her face falls, the tension releasing from her shoulders as they droop, curling in as if to protect her.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I said her name. But that must have made you feel terrible, and that’s the last thing I want to do. I just got so caught up in the moment, I stopped thinking. And I know it’s no excuse, but I’ve… well, I haven’t felt this way about a woman since her, and…” I shake my head, fresh waves of guilt crashing through me at the half truths that spill from my mouth with far too much ease.
“No, don’t apologize,” she insists, taking my hand as she leans toward me, and even that innocuous touch sends sparks of desire dancing across my skin.
My heart swells as she looks at me with such compassion, it steals the air from my lungs.
“I think it’s… sweet,” she says haltingly. “You must have really cared for her.”
God, you have no idea. She’s my everything.You’remy everything.
But I’ve already plunged head first down this rabbit hole, and there’s no turning back, so I just nod, my eyes dropping to our hands as I brush the pad of my thumb across her knuckles.
“I promise you’re the only one I was thinking of,” I say, forcing my gaze back to hers, and her smile is so sweet, I can almost taste it.
“I’m glad, because you wereallI could think about,” she admits, her blush intensifying in the most adorable display of sudden shyness.
“Come here,” I plead, tugging her toward me once again, and Stephanie concedes, snuggling back into my side, her breasts pressed against my ribcage, her cheek against my chest.
“Can I ask you something?” I say, wanting to fill the loaded silence.
“Anything,” she says, tilting her chin up to smile at me as she playfully echoes my response.
“What about Jackson’s father? Is he still in the picture at all?”
Stephanie pauses, her expression turning guarded just like it did when I asked her about her past before. “He’s not,” she says shortly, her voice tense.
“Bad breakup?” I guess, my heart squeezing to think of her with another man—even if she didn’t know I was out there trying to will her back into existence.
“No,” she says, her hair tickling my shoulder as she shakes her head.
I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse, but it feels like I’m pulling teeth when I wish she would just put me out of my misery and tell me when she met him, what their relationship was like, why it ended—anything to give me insight into what her life has been like since we were separated.
“Where is he now?” I press, trying to nudge her into opening up, even if I’m dreading the answer.
“I don’t know,” she admits, her fingers tracing the tattoos on my chest.
“He hasn’t shown any interest in being a part of Jackson’s life?” The question comes out shocked, because I’m truly stunned that anyone would prefer tonothave that little boy in their life.
“I guess not,” Stephanie says, her voice tinged with bitterness for the first time. “But I don’t really know if he’s even aware Jackson exists.”
