I grip her wrist and brush her hand away from my face. My eyes bore into hers, as if a stare-down may get her to listen to a damn word I’m saying. “I’m not shell-shocked. Maybe I didn’t plan on bein’ a dad so young, but he’s here and I wouldn’t change it for the world. I’m pleased as hell. I love him already, just like I—”
I stop at the panicked expression on her face.
I rest back on my heels, muttering a curse beneath my breath. “Fine. I won’t repeat it until you’re ready.”
Weary green eyes meet mine. “And what if I never am?”
“Don’t care. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
“Knox—”
“You may not think it’s possible, sweetheart, but I know us. I believe in us. There’s been a damn hole in my heart where you should’ve been. I don’t want to be intersecting lines anymore. I want to be an endless loop, not knowing where I end and you begin. You wrapped around my heart, ensnared it completely.” I search her eyes for something. Anything. Lightning flashes, illuminating the room, and she’s so exhausted that she doesn’t even seem to register the storm that’s now raging outside. Hell, I wonder if she even fathoms the one raging within me. “We can weather anything, Amelia. No matter how fierce the storm. How high the tide. How crazy all of this seems. Through the ups, the downs, the highs, and the lows—we’ll get through it the best way we can.”
“How’s that?”
“Together.”
A lone tear spills out and streams down onto her cheek. She goes to push it away, but I grasp her wrist in my hand. I can’t begin to imagine how she’s feeling right now. A multitude of emotion emanate on her face ranging from shock to worry and there’s a brief flash of hope and relief I have to capitalize on.
With my thumb, I wipe it away. “As much as I wish I could, I can’t change the fact that I left last summer. I wish to hell I could. But I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever. And remember this, Amelia, when you’re condemning me in your head. I may have left, but you let me go. It’s a two-way street, babe.”
“You don’t have to sweet-talk me because of the baby, Knox.”
It’s as if she didn’t hear a word I just said. I want to scream at her. I want to shake her.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, wondering how long I’m going to be on this damn merry-go-round. “You’ve said that before, and feel free to become a broken record. I told you I came back for you. I told you I wasn’t leaving multiple times. That hasn’t changed. That isn’t going to change, so you might as well get used to having me around. I want to be with you. Every night. Every morning. All the time in between. I was a coward last year. I’m not anymore. And I know you’re not ready. I’ll wait until you are. But I’m waitin’ by your side.”
She swallows hard, her body turning rigid. “Fine. You can stay. Not because I want you. Because Branson deserves to have his daddy around and I want to watch you change diapers.”
My laugh causes her to glare. Holding my hands up, I take a step back. “Okay, okay. You got it, babe. I’m here to change diapers, prepare bottles, do your bidding. Whatever it takes.”
She gives me a curt nod. “Now, we have guests.”
Without another word, she opens the door and disappears.
All I do is watch her go, a slow grin forming on my face.
I can take angry Amelia. It means there’s something still in there for us. It gives me hope that I can wear her down.
After a few beats, I follow behind her. I step into the room, and at seeing all the love around her, the genuine smile on her face as she opens their gifts, I realize that, while I wasn’t here, she was surrounded by family. Even if she doesn’t quite get it.
When Joe sees me, he holds Branson up, his expression questioning. I walk to him and take the baby into my arms before settling into the rocking chair Amelia’s parents used for her when she was a baby. I rock, kind of feeling like a voyeur as they all ooh and ahh over outfits and toys and books and noisy shit courtesy of Sam. It’s moronic, feeling like an outsider. These people were my crew last summer. I shouldn’t feel at odds. Then again, I didn’t have a son last summer. It may take time with them, too, but just like with Amelia, I plan on putting in the work.
For all of them.
I let the noise of the room fade away. Gazing down at my son as he sleeps nestled in my arms, as if the place was meant for him, I know that Elton John had it right.
Life is damn wonderful now that my son’s in the world.
Listening to Knox sing Elton John to our son shouldn’t affect me. It shouldn’t be so damn endearing. It shouldn’t make me fall in love all over again.
It kind of does. Not that I actually ever fell out of love with the big jerk.
I want to believe him. It’d be so easy to throw my arms around him, listen to him say those three little words I’ve desperately wanted to hear. I can’t. I can’t risk it. Not for me. Not for Branson. And certainly not for Knox.
How I can trust what he claims to feel? How can he trust it? Two days ago, he didn’t know that Branson existed. Two days ago, I resigned myself to being a single mother. Two days ago, he showed back up, completely turning my world on its axis, as well as finding his own flipped upside-down. I had seven months to get used to the idea of a baby. He’s had no time at all.
In one day, he’s gone from bachelor to dad like it was nothing. He’s thrown himself into fatherhood with an unexpected gusto that threatens to melt my heart. It’s evident on his face. He’s captivated by his son, and love radiates from him every time he takes Branson into his arms.
It’s wreaking havoc on my emotions. And my heart.
I want to push him away. Tell him I can do this all on my own, so he can go back to his big city job, become the hotshot he’s always dreamed of. I don’t. Not for me—for our son. I know how incredible it is to grow up with a loving father, how even more devastating it is to lose one. I won’t do that to my baby, so as long as Knox wants, I’ll let him stick around.
Not to mention he’s barely let me leave my comfy chair in the living room all day. Every time Branson makes a peep, Knox checks on him. He brings him to me for feedings, does all the diaper changes, and even delivers me food, often checking to see if I need my tea or water refilled. I never expected to be this pampered after getting home from the hospital, so I swallow my protests and enjoy it.
I’m pretending to watch some old movie on the television when Knox and Sunny go into the kitchen. While they’re in there, I strain to listen to their quiet conversation. She planned on staying with me for a while after Branson was born, but with Knox here, I have a feeling those plans will change. Not that I mind. She hovered enough in my last two months of pregnancy that I could use a break. And deep down, I want him here, even if I won’t admit it out loud.
Sure enough, a few minutes later, she comes out of the kitchen and takes Branson from my arms, cooing down at him.
“He’s such a beautiful baby, Amelia,” she whispers, trying not wake my little guy. Then she glances back to the kitchen, where Knox is leaning against the doorframe, watching us. She makes some kind of gesture to him, and he nods, turning around and leaving us alone. “Listen, I know I was going to stay here…before Knox showed up. Since he’s clearly not going anywhere, I think three’s a crowd. I’m going back to Joe’s. If you need anything, anything at all, give me a call.”