“Erik . . . it’s not that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple,” he argued. “I haven’t moved on with my life. I’ve been stuck, waitin’ for you. Now you’re here.” Then something terrible occurred to him, and he leaned away from her, waiting until she looked up at him. He searched her eyes with something close to desperation.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Have you moved on?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you with someone?” he asked her, practically choking on the words.
“No.”
“Ava’s father?”
Her breath hitched softly. “No . . . He’s . . . It’s, um, it’s complicated . . . But he’s not . . .”
“He’s alive?”
She clenched her jaw, then nodded.
“Do you still see him?”
She took a deep breath, wriggling off his lap, sliding her body about foot away from his. “He’s not in the picture . . . as Ava’s father.”
“But he is in the picture?”
“Not the way . . . I mean . . .” She pursed her lips, then sighed. “I’m not ready to talk about Ava’s father, Erik.”
The last thing he wanted to do was push her away, but he could see that was what was happening.
“Okay,” he said, regrouping quickly, recalibrating his expectations. “I only need to know one thing.”
She looked up at him expectantly, her eyes locking with his.
“Are you free, darlin’? If . . . if we wanted to be together again . . . are you free to be with me?”
Whether she intended for it to happen or not, a blinding smile appeared on her face, and she nodded at him as her eyes swelled with fresh tears. “I am.”
He reached for her cheeks, cupping them tenderly as he leaned forward, closing the distance between them.
“That’s all I need to know,” he said, closing his eyes as his lips claimed hers once again.
Chapter 22
Heaven and hell.
Laire had heard these words said together in contrast at least a few times in her life, but never, before this morning, did she truly, personally understand the chasm that lay between them.
The heaven of it was that her first love—her only love—had been suddenly and miraculously restored to her last night. To learn that Erik Rexford—the Governor’s Son—was still and had always been her Erik made her shake her head with disbelief, even as a smile of bliss spread across her face and tears of gratitude burned her eyes.
He’d never cheated on her.
He’d loved no other but her.
And, reading between the lines, from what he and Hillary had told her, despite everything, he still loved her.
Such bounty was foreign to Laire, but when she remembered the fire in his eyes last night, she knew it was true: he still belonged to her if she wanted to claim him.
And she did.
She’d never stopped loving her Erik either, turning down countless dates with fellow students, and even Patrick, the sweetest, kindest man in the world. She hadn’t been ready to give up the dream of Erik Rexford, even though he’d eviscerated her heart. Part of her must have still wondered, must have still hoped that one day, someday, he could be hers again.
She grinned, taking a sip of the coffee she’d made in her room and savoring the bitterness as it slipped down her throat. But as she turned her face toward the just-rising sun outside the windows, her buoyancy took a dip.
Heaven and hell.
The hell of it was that she had borne his child and kept her hidden from him for six years. Her beautiful, incomparable Ava Grace, who slept like an angel in the bed beside hers, was still a secret from Erik. A secret that never should have been kept from him.
She sighed, placing her mug on the bedside table and rolling onto her side. Outside, the colors of the sky lightened steadily from lavender to orange, but her mood remained heavy.
Would he be angry with her for not telling him about Ava Grace? But how could she have? When she’d gone to Utopia Manor to tell him, his mother had misled her and threatened to call the police if Laire didn’t leave. What if she told him what had happened with his mother? Would he believe her? Blame her?
Though he was very good with Ava Grace from what she’d seen so far, did he even want a child? What if he did? And what if he couldn’t forgive Laire for keeping Ava Grace from him? Would he try to take her away? To get custody of her? Laire’s circumstances had changed in six years but not enough to win a legal battle against the North Carolina Rexfords.
On the flip side, what if he felt burdened by the sudden responsibility of having a daughter? What if he rejected her claim that Ava Grace was his and washed his hands of both of them?