I lift my gaze to meet hers, and I find sincerity shining in those emerald depths. “I know I’m not the easiest person to deal with,” I admit gruffly. “Especially with all this…baggage.”
She tilts her head, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Aidan,” she says softly, “I love you. All of you. Even thebaggage.” A tiny laugh escapes her, and her fingers give mine a gentle squeeze. “I don’t mind carrying some of it if you’ll let me.”
Lucy.MyLucy. She’s not running from my past. She’s not afraid of it. And damn it, that means more to me than I could ever put into words.
“You really are something else, you know that?” I say, my voice a bit softer now. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Don’t do that.” She shakes her head. “Don’t say you don’t deserve me. You’re a good man. A good father. You work hard, you love fiercely, and you’d do anything to protect the people you care about. That’s exactly the kind of man I deserve.”
The conviction in her voice hits me square in the chest. I stare into her eyes, searching for any hint that she’s just saying what she thinks I need to hear. But there’s nothing but truth there, nothing but that unwavering faith she has in me that I’m still trying to understand.
thirty-six
LUCY
I’m baffled by everything that unfolded today. When Aidan woke me up, I felt completely fine. In fact, when I opened my eyes and saw him sitting beside me, I felt a heat surge through my body, a wild impulse to pull him closer, to tear his clothes off right then and there. Totally inappropriate, given the heavy issue looming over us.
His scent is surrounding me, all woodsy and rugged, like the earth after rain, and it makes me forget everything but him. But there’s a profound sadness etched into his features. It’s as if something inside him has cracked open, revealing a deep well of confusion and fear that I’m not used to seeing.
I ache to reach for him, to take that weight from his shoulders. Seeing him so raw, so unguarded, hits me harder than I expect. I want to smooth away the lines of worry creasing his forehead, to kiss the tension from his jaw. At the same time, I also understand that what he needs right now isn’t whatIwant.
“Talk to me,” I whisper. “What are you thinking?”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “I just keep thinking aboutwhat she wants. Why now? Isla’s five, Lucy. Five years of nothing, and suddenly, she shows up?”
The pain in his voice makes my chest tight. “Maybe she’s changed. Maybe she realizes what she lost.”
Aidan’s gaze drops to our intertwined hands. His thumb traces circles on my skin. “When we found out Emily was pregnant, I was… I was happy about it.” A sad smile settles on his face. “I thought we’d figure it out together, but she didn’t want a baby. She didn’t want any of it. And this might make me an asshole, but she doesn’t get to just decide she wants to be a mother now,” he says, voice rough with emotion. “What if she hurts Isla? What if she gets close to her and then leaves again?”
“You don’t have to decide anything tonight. You can take some time to figure out what’s best.”
He looks at me then, really looks at me, with those storm-gray eyes that make my heart skip. “What do you think I should do?”
The question catches me by surprise. This is him letting me in, letting me help him through a major decision in his and Isla’s lives. I take a deep breath, carefully considering my words.
“I think…you should hear what she has to say, but on your terms. Somewhere neutral, just the two of you. I think until you understand what she wants, you should keep Isla out of it.”
“And if she wants to be in Isla’s life again?”
That’s the question that scares me, too. So instead of answering, I ask a question of my own. “What was she like? Before Isla.”
Aidan’s hand stills on mine. “Do you really want to know about her?”
The honest answer? “I don’t know if I necessarilywantto… It’s more that I feel like I should.”
He nods slowly. “She was charming when she wanted tobe.” His voice is distant, like he’s describing someone from another lifetime. “We met at a pub. I was working the rigs then, too, coming off a three-week stint. She was…vibrant.”
I listen, doing my best not to picture this beautiful woman who once had his heart.
“It was good at first,” he continues. “She was always restless, though. Always looking for the next thing.” He exhales sharply. “When she got pregnant with Isla, I thought things would change. I thought she’d want to settle.”
The muscle in his jaw works. “She tried, I think. For a while. Isla was four months old when I came home from being away for a couple weeks, and she was just…gone. Left a note saying she couldn’t do it anymore. That she wasn’t meant to be a mother and that she’d left Isla with my mum.”
I feel physically ill imagining coming home to an empty house, a tiny baby, and nothing but a note. Forsaking both him and Isla like that makes my blood boil, but I keep my expression neutral, not wanting to add my anger to his pain.
“I don’t know what to do,” he admits. “I don’t know how to fix this.”
“You don’t have to fix everything,” I reply softly. “You’re doing the best you can. And that’s enough.”
