“They put me away, Shiloh,” I said, catching her wrists, my voice barely controlled. “It was all I had to give.”
She shook her head, tears falling freely now. “No, it wasn’t. There was you.”
“Behind bars? A two-hour drive—?”
“Yes,” she cried. “At least then I could see your face. Hear your voice. Even a little piece of you is better than nothing.”
She broke down then, her slim shoulders shaking. I pulled her to me, my mouth against her hair. “I’m sorry. I thought it would be better that way. For you. For me too.”
She cried against my bare chest, her tears hot on my skin, burning me with guilt and regret.
“I know you did,” she said. “But you’re wrong. It wasn’t better for me. I needed you. We needed you.” She pushed away from me and wiped her eyes. “Come on. We have to go home now. It’s been too long and every minute that goes by is another minute that…”
Her words trailed, sudden nervousness flooding her. I put on my shirt and jacket while she locked up and set the alarm. On the sidewalk, she called an Uber.
“Where’s the Buick?” I asked, wondering if the old thing had finally died.
“At home, in case they need it.” Shiloh said but didn’t elaborate.
I made a vow to buy her a new damn car—something she could use for her business—whether she wanted me to or not.
“Bibi is going to be so happy to see you,” Shiloh said on the way to her house. “And yell at you.” She smiled a little. “Or not. She loves you too.”
“How is she?”
“Perfect. Getting up there but still herself.”
I eased a sigh of relief. A selfish one. Because I realized I loved Bibi too, and if something had happened to her while I was locked up, I’d never have forgiven myself.
The Uber dropped us off, and I followed Shiloh up the front walk. Her hands were trembling as she unlocked the door.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing. I just…I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. We both have.”
I thought she meant Bibi, but when she opened the door, the first and only thing I saw was the little boy—maybe two years old—standing in a playpen in front of the couch. Soft black curls framed his face, and large brown eyes watched us come in. He broke into a smile to see Shiloh and held his arms to her.
“Mama!”
I was dimly aware that Bibi had come in from the kitchen and stood at the dining room table, her hands clutched tightly with Shiloh’s mother, Marie.
My blood was thrashing in my ears, and my heart crashed against my ribs again and again. Shiloh picked the baby up and set him on her hip.
“Ronan,” she whispered, her eyes flooded. “This is August.”
I stared at the little boy, then at Shiloh and back again, a thousand emotions flooding me, more powerful than any I’d ever known.
“He’s…?”
Shiloh nodded, her smile hopeful but scared too.
“Your son.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I watched, my heart in my throat, trying to read Ronan’s reaction. What if he never wanted a kid? What if this was too much? What if…?
He put his hand on his chest “Mine?”
That word, in his broken voice, broke my heart too.
“Yours.”
Ronan nodded vaguely. His gray eyes went between us, and then he turned and walked back out the door.
A gasp came from the dining room. I looked to my mother. “Mama…?”
She rushed forward to take August out of my arms, and I hurried outside, fear flooding me that Ronan was walking away from me. From us.
But he was sitting on the bottom step, hands dangling off his knees. He shook his head, staring at nothing. I shut the door behind me, gathered my dress and sat beside him.
“Talk to me,” I said. “Please.”
“How did this happen? When?” he asked, still not looking at me, his voice low.
“The last night we spent together. I’d been sick and not thinking after Mama dropped her bomb on me. I didn’t take my pill and you didn’t ask if I had.”
“You were upset that night,” he said. “I’d have done whatever you asked to make you feel better.”
“I know,” I said gently. “I’m saying, we’re both responsible. We made him together, and he’s not a mistake that someone needs to take the blame for. But it was hard, Ronan. You not knowing…”
“I’m glad.”
“What? You’re glad?”
“Mostly, I’m fucking wrecked, Shiloh,” he said, his voice cracking. “But part of me is glad because I’d have gone insane knowing what you were going through when I couldn’t be there. Watching him grow up through prison bars…his first memories of me as a criminal, like my dad. That would’ve fucking killed me.”
“You’re not a criminal, Ronan. I knew the truth before Frankie made it real, and I’ve been telling August about you since the beginning. About what kind of man his daddy is. How you always do whatever you think is best to protect those you love.” My voice wavered. “Even if it means you had to be away for a long time. Even then…”
“Fuck, Shiloh…”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I continued. “They saw what they wanted to see. But you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”
“Whatever you need,” he said roughly. “You and him… I’ll take care of you both. You won’t have to do this alone.”
“I didn’t do it alone,” I said. “I had help. Mama and Bibi and the money you gave me. The only way I would spend it was to take care of August and to make sure the business stayed afloat to support us. To build something for you to come home to.”
He shook his head, years of regret still hanging heavily over him. “You’re so brave, Shiloh. So fucking brave.”
“I hardly ever feel brave. I think scared shitless and exhausted are my default settings.” I laced my hand in his. There was a scar on one of his knuckles that hadn’t been there before. “I just did what I had to do. Like you.” I kissed the scar and pressed his fingers to my cheek. “How bad was it?”
“I did what I had to do,” he said with a shrug that told me it was harder than he’d ever let on. “I got a degree.”
“You did?”
“They have adult education programs at San Quentin. I got an AA in Business Management. It didn’t make sense, even as I was doing it. I thought I was serving ten years and that you and I were…done.”
“Impossible.”
“Something told me to keep going. To get the degree and not give up.”
“You were building something to come home to, too.”
“Home,” he said, like he didn’t know what the word meant.
“Yes, home. You and me and Bibi and our little boy. You have a home now. A family, if you want it.” I swallowed hard. “Do you…want that?”
Do you want to be his daddy?
A muscle in his jaw ticked as he struggled to contain the emotion I could feel rising in him.