She hesitated. “I want to believe you. I want to think that we could be happy together.”
My chest felt strapped tight. “But you don’t love me?”
She took my face in her hands. “Of course I love you. You know I do.”
Relief coursed through me, but it was tempered with fear too. She was still holding back—or else she didn’t feel what I felt, which was even worse. “But you’re not in love with me. Not the way I am with you.”
“I’m scared to love you like that, Miles. I’m scared because you’ve always been there, always been this amazing what if in the back of my mind, ever since that night we almost kissed. But you told me yourself you weren’t capable of loving someone completely and forever. You weren’t capable of the sacrifices it would entail. And I want that.”
“You deserve it.” I kissed the palm of her hand. “Tell me what to do to prove to you I can be the man you want.”
She pulled her hand away and wiped her eyes. “I can’t tell you that. I don’t know. I just know that it’s not enough to hear you say you want to do the right thing. I’m sorry.”
? ? ?
She let me hug her goodbye, and I held her for a long time. I’d stopped talking, because clearly I wasn’t saying the right things. And why would I? I’d never talked this way to anyone in my entire life. I didn’t pay attention to those scenes in movies, I didn’t read those kinds of books, and people in porn and cartoons don’t really talk about the future. I’d thought saying I wanted to do the right thing would indicate to her that I was ready to grow up and be the kind of person she wanted, but I’d been wrong.
But I wouldn’t give up. As I embraced her by the front door, I vowed to try harder. I thought about the little life we’d created, a life that she was protecting inside her body, and I wrapped my arms around them both.
Suddenly my chest hollowed out like it was cleaving in half. It was similar to the feeling I had when I realized I was in love with Natalie, and yet different. Just as compelling, just as shocking, just as relentless, but more ferocious, more possessive, more instinctive. It came from a place inside me that hadn’t existed until this very moment, an empty space that was rapidly filling with the most powerful emotion I’d ever experienced.
Somehow I knew it was the beginnings of the fierce, protective love of a father for his child.
I don’t know how I knew, but I did.
I held her closer.
Mine. This was mine, and I wouldn’t let it go.
Somehow I’d find a way to prove it to her.
On my way to the house, I called Nick Lupo.
“Hey, Miles. What’s up?” The clatter and conversation in the background told me he was at work.
“Hey. You know that winery you were talking to Natalie about? The one where her sister works?”
“Abelard Vineyards?”
I thumped the steering wheel. “That’s it. Thanks. I just needed the name.”
“Are you up there?”
“Yeah, and I need to get ahold of Natalie’s sister Skylar but I can’t ask her for the number.”
“Uh oh. Why not?”
“It’s a long story, but I fucked things up somehow and now I have to get her back.”
“Sounds serious. Is this really Miles Haas I’m talking to?”
“Ha. Yes. Hey, what did you say to get Coco to marry you?”
Nick made a choking sound. “You want to marry her? Are you drunk?”
I smiled. “Nope. Totally sober.”
“Jesus. Well, Coco wanted nothing to do with me when I originally asked her. I had to do it bigger. Better.”
“What did you do?”
“I got on the airport loudspeaker.”
I frowned. “Hm.”
“But you can do anything—it just has to be meaningful to her. And women always like a grand gesture.”
“A grand gesture?”
“Yeah, something kind of public. You know, to show her that you’re not afraid to let the world know how you feel.”
I thought for a moment. “She’s pregnant.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“You OK with that?”
I smiled. “You know what? I fucking am. I really fucking am.”
“Good.” He paused. “This might sound crazy, Miles, but I kinda feel like this is exactly what you need. That girl is way too good for you, but you might be able to have her forever if you do this right. Go get her.”
“Thanks. I will.”
? ? ?
I barely slept that night. The next day, I went over to Abelard Vineyards around eleven. It was Sunday, but it was summer, so I figured they’d have so much weekend tourist business, they’d be open, and I was right.
In the tasting room, I found Skylar pouring wine behind a long wooden bar. She looked surprised to see me.
“Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you. When are you off work?”
She scrutinized my face. “You look awful. Did you sleep last night?”
“No. I can’t sleep. And I can’t eat, and I don’t even feel like drinking, which is a serious sign that something is wrong with me. I need your help.”