It’s been a really emotional night, and I feel like I can barely process one thing to another.
“And what about us?”
I hesitate. “What do you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
He walks toward me and slips his arms around my waist.
“I think the same applies. We see what happens. I think … if you’re still angry or harbor any resentment, it’s hard to build a foundation on that, you know? And honestly, I’m still trying to wrap my head around Aaron’s part in all of this too.”
“I get it. And you’re not wrong. I’m not angry in the way that I was when I first found out. I am mad at Aaron and think we need to confront him together. I need to understand what his motive was for lying to me, but also lying to you.” He pauses. “And resentment? I’m not resentful necessarily, more like sad that I missed so much. But blaming each other for this isn’t going to help Sera. We’re going to have to be a team here. I’m not an expert by any means on relationships, but I do know, based on my parents’ example, that we need to be good partners for our kid. That means assuming the best about each other. Not weaponizing every mistake. Talking things through instead of letting pride make decisions. And it seems that your parents have a good foundation with that as well. Patient. Consistent. You don’t tear each other down in front of your kids. You don’t keep score. You show up. And at the end of the day, it really is all about Seraphina. Me being angry and resentful won’t move us forward. I want to do this with you.”
He places his finger under my chin, tilting my face. His knuckle brushes the curve of my jaw, slow enough that my breath stutters.
“Okay, you’re right. I think there are times that I look at you or look at you together, and I feel guilty for not reaching out toyou directly. Like I not only kept you from her, but I failed her too.”
“And I understand that, and I appreciate that you are also hurt by how this all happened. But it did happen, and we can move forward or lay blame with each other, but that’s not what’s best for Sera.”
“You’re right.” I wrap my arms around his waist cautiously.
“I know I am.”
Then he kisses me. It starts slow, then builds into something deeper, emotion heavy. Charged.
My fingers fist in the fabric of his shirt before I can stop myself.
His other hand finds my waist, pulling me closer—not rough, but certain. The kiss deepens. Opens. Emotion flooding through it. Regret. Want. Relief. Months—maybe years—of unsaid things pressing between us.
My heart pounds so hard that I can hear it.
He exhales against my mouth, and it almost sounds like my name.
I tilt into him without thinking, rising onto my toes, and that’s when it changes—when slow turns into something electric. Urgent, but not frantic. Weighed by everything we almost lost. Everything we didn’t know.
His thumb presses lightly into my hip. My pulse jumps.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless.
“I need to go,” he mumbles against my lips.
“Okay.” I pause. “Wait, why?”
He rests his forehead against mine.
“Because tonight was big. And as much as I want to fuck you on every surface of this place, we should probably ease into overnights.”
Seriously, you would think he was a veteran parent with all the sense he’s making while I’m hormone-driven tonight.
I can’t help it; I blame his kisses.
“You’re right.”
He kisses me softly.
“Alie, this isn’t me running away.”
I nod. “Oh, yeah, I know.”
