“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Okay, I’m still a little vague on this part, but I’ll try to make sense. My mom cheated on him. She was always the loving one, but when I was nine and I found out—and since my father was constantly raking her over the coals about it, it was no secret in our house—I felt like I had to . . . not love her anymore. I mean, I did. Of course I did. But I’ve felt like I had to sort of cut myself off from her love. From loving her. From letting her love me.” A sob caught in her throat and she had to swallow it down. “It sounds so awful saying it out loud. It is awful, and I swear I’m calling her tomorrow to tell her I love her. Because that was so wrong of me. Even if the idea started when I was a kid, I never grew beyond it. What I did, in essence, was detach myself from the one source of love I had in my life. My father was always a hard man. My grandparents on my mom’s side have been gone since before I was born, and my other grandparents—my dad’s parents—were never demonstrative. My grandfather was a pretty cold man as well, which is where my father gets it, I guess. The sad thing is, I could have been so loved by my mother, if I’d only let her. This whole damn time. Why have I been punishing myself over this? Never mind the way I’ve punished her. But God, I owe her one hell of an apology.”
“You were nine years old when you heard about the cheating. You were a child.”
“Yes. But I never reevaluated things when I became an adult. Not until now. And now it’s only because you’ve made me look at myself, question everything I thought I knew about myself. At first I was completely freaked out by that, but it’s been a good thing. It’s been necessary. Because I’ve spent my whole life not knowing how to accept love. I learned not to. It’s taken me all these years to figure it out, and, Duff, I still can’t claim to have it figured out. I only know I want to try—I need to try. But I think I’ve had to forgive my mom before I could forgive myself.”
“Forgive yourself for what, my lovely?”
“I don’t know, exactly. For the blame and judgment my father heaped on me that had nothing to do with me, maybe? I know it doesn’t make much sense. That’s maybe the saddest part about it. I never did anything wrong but be my mother’s daughter.”
“It’s a terrible, terrible thing that that was what he held against you.”
“Yes, it is. He made me feel happiness was beyond my grasp, that it wasn’t something one could reasonably expect in the world. And I sort of manifested my own destiny by choosing a long string of the wrong men. Until you.”
“You may be the first woman to ever think I’m the right man.”
“You’re right for me. You’re exactly right.”
He pulled her in then and pressed his lips to hers, then pulled back enough to tell her, “I love you, Layla. I don’t care what we have to do to make this work. And it’s not because of the baby. It’s because of you. It’s because of us. I cannot live without you, my lovely hardheaded girl. We’ll help each other through this. I’ll remind you that the world is a safe enough place to love and be loved—safe with me. I will love you hard enough for you to believe it, until the memory of your father fades away. Until we create new memories that will stand in that place. And I’ll love our child. I’ll be a good father. I’ll learn how.”
She looked up into his hazel eyes and saw the truth of his words. “Thank you. For making the world a safe place for me. For helping me to believe I can be happy, that I deserve it. For accepting this baby, despite the surprise of it.”
“That part doesn’t matter.”
“But we’ve only been together for two months, Duff—less than two months.”
“That doesn’t matter, either. I knew it the moment I saw you, when you came cussing and sputtering into my shop. You were meant for me. I was meant for you. And I will be there for this child, and for you.”
Reaching up, she held his face between her hands, tears stinging her eyes. But this time they were happy tears. “I don’t know how anyone could have thought you wouldn’t be a good father, including me. Have you forgiven yourself for what happened with Bess?”
“I’m beginning to. But let me ask you, is it a bad thing, do you think, that I feel somehow this baby—our baby—is a sort of redemption for me? I know the other child can never be replaced, but that’s how it feels to me. Am I some kind of bastard for thinking so?”
“You don’t mean it that way. I understand, and it’s not a bad thing at all. Sometimes the universe gives us a second chance.”
He smiled at her, his dimples creasing his cheeks, and for the first time that night she saw real happiness in his hazel eyes. “Fuck, Layla. We’re having a baby.”
She laughed—and realized it was the first time she’d felt real happiness in several days. And what she felt was perhaps the most giddy happiness she’d ever felt in her life. “We’re having a baby,” she agreed. “Who would have thought it would have been us? Having a baby, and smiling about it?”
He stroked her face, gave her cheek a gentle pinch. “Are you happy, love?”
She pressed her cheek into his hand. “I am. I sort of can’t believe it, but I am. I had no idea I wanted this until it happened. Duff, I know you said it didn’t matter, but it has only been a couple of months since we got together.”
“It’s not that it doesn’t matter—it’s a reality, and I’m a realist at heart—but this is our story, yes? Yeah. We get to decide how we want to write it. I can’t explain how right it feels.”
“Neither can I. But it makes me feel a little crazy.”
“You’re pregnant. Aren’t you allowed to be a little crazy?”
She smacked his arm. “Hey!”
He grinned once more. “And no less dangerous. You know I love that about you.”
“I’ve suspected.”