I go to the chair, sitting on the arm as I reach down and let my hand glide over his shoulders. He reaches up to tighten his grip around me, holding me tightly.
“When will you know if he loves art?” Rafe asks.
A smile breaks across my face. “I’m not sure.”
“When did you know?” he asks. “Or did you always know?”
His shoulder trembles slightly as he talks, like he’s holding in a lot of emotion.
“I always knew,” I tell him. “I just remember loving colors. Mom had this red scarf, and it would blow in the wind when we wouldwalk around the park. I just remember loving how red it was. Wishing I could make something as beautiful. Well, as much as a toddler can think like that, I guess.”
He turns, eyes hard, but his lips are soft. “Isn’t it amazing to just look at him and know, Ava, justknowyou’d do anything? Give anything?”
“Yes,” I whisper, tears pricking my eyes. “It’s a miracle. Every time I look at him.”
“I need to end this or leave you forever. But even now, it’s too late. He knows I care.”
“He does? How?”
“He threatened you,” Rafe snarls. “And our son. And he must’ve been able to see how close I was to exploding.”
“When do you have to leave?” I ask, my heartbeat punching with emotion.
“A couple hours.”
“Want some coffee?”
He smiles, turning back to Theo. “Sure.”
I go into the kitchen, walking past the bathroom. The diaper genie has a diaper in. It was empty last night. I smile and look back at Rafe and Theo… in his new, clean diaper. It’s a small thing, maybe. But it feels huge.
Brewing the coffee, I carry it back into the living room. I gently take Theo and move him to the bassinet. He sleeps softly, like he’s felt safe in his daddy’s arms.
“I’m sorry if I was blunt yesterday,” I say, sitting in the chair next to his.
“You weren’t.”
“You told me something horrible. And I just… wanted to tell you we have to take this slow. Just had to say that.”
“It’s the smart thing,” he says stiffly, like he’s in pain, agony any time he has to think about not being with me. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t seriously like that.
“But I am so, so sorry. For what you saw. For what it made you.”
“It didn’t make me anything. I was always going to be this man.” He laughs dryly, flashing those gold eyes in my direction. “Until I met you.”
“Don’t use lines on me.”
“I’ve never learned how to use lines on anyone.”
I take my coffee cup in both hands, blowing on the steam. “I’ll need to call Adrian and let him know I can’t come in.”
“And your parents will need to call too.”
“Mom’s retired. Dad doesn’t work Mondays.”
“Will they stay here?” Rafe asks.
“I think I can get them to,” I say, taking a scalding sip. “But they won’t be happy.”
