Page 46 of Second Chance Vow

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“We’re going to need a minute,” I relayed.

“Yes, take your time.”

As soon as he walked away, Kinley stated, “Christian—”

I cut her off. “If you tell me you still want to go through with this divorce, I will have no choice but to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here kicking and screaming.”

I looked deep into her eyes and spoke with conviction, “Do you understand me?”

—Kinley—

I opened my mouth, but he interrupted me again. “I’m trying to remain calm, okay? Do you see how hard that is for me? But I’m doing it for you. If you for one second think I’m going to allow this bullshit of a divorce to still go through, then you’re sadly mistaken. Am I making myself clear?”

“Christian—”

“Just give me a chance, okay? Just give us a chance. This is what we’ve always wanted, this has been the root of our problems, and we’re finally here, on the day we’re supposed to finalize our divorce. This is a sign. It’s our second chance. Our fresh start. You feel it as much as I do. I know you do. I can see it in your face, hear it in your voice, feel it in my soul. You’re mine, Kinley. You’ve always been mine, and you always will be. This”—he kissed my hand—“is our second chance vow.”

I smiled. “You didn’t have to say any of that. I know. It’s meant to be. We’re meant to be. I think this is God’s way of telling us that. I don’t know how it happened because the doc—”

“I don’t want to talk about that, Kinley. Not right now. All I want to do is rip these papers up, throw them in the garbage, and walk out of here with my wife in my arms. That’s all I need. Can you give me that?”

I didn’t hesitate in replying, “Yes.”

He didn’t have to be told twice, he stood and called over our lawyers.

“You guys ready?” my attorney asked.

“No.” Grabbing our divorce papers out of his hand, Christian ripped them up right in front of them before he announced, “We won’t be needing your services anymore.”

They grinned.

They fucking grinned.

“I told you,” Christian’s attorney said to mine.

“You knew we weren’t going to go through with this?” I asked.

“Mrs. Troy,” he replied. “I’ve been a divorce attorney for almost forty years, and I know what misery looks like. And you guys”—he looked back and forth between us—“are still very much in love with each other. I’m glad this made you open your eyes. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s nice to know that second chances can happen.”

Christian grabbed my hand. “Thank you. Your invoices will be paid when I get back to my office.”

It felt like a dream I never wanted to wake up from. We left the courthouse hand-in-hand, and I was nervous the entire drive to Christian’s office, fidgeting while he said nothing. I could tell he was lost in his thoughts. However, he still reached over and grabbed my hand, knowing I needed his support.

We didn’t talk. Both of us were overwhelmed by the turn of events. Our marriage was still in a rocky place, and it was going to take work to get us back to where we needed to be. But for the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful that we’d come out of this stronger, better, and more in love than ever.

The guilt I’d carried for the last ten years still weighed heavily in my heart, but there was something else now battling it.

Worry.

Could I carry to full term? Would we have a healthy baby?

As if he knew what I was questioning, Christian’s hold on my hand tightened before he brought it up to his mouth to kiss it, making my heart melt. I’d been so angry at life that I stopped seeing how amazing he was to me, how much he always knew what I needed without me having to say one word.

New remorse settled over my conscience, and I tried hard to ignore it until Christian said out of nowhere, “Kinley, you know I forgive you. You’re my girl.”

I didn’t know I needed to hear it until that very moment.

My anxiousness subsided, and once we were in the ultrasound room in his office, I felt like the walls were suddenly caving in on me.

“Christian, what if the tests were wrong? What if I’m not pregnant? Ten different tests can’t be a false positive, right?”

He lovingly smiled at me, once again being my anchor like he’d been for the last twenty years. Stepping toward me, he grabbed my face and kissed my lips as his other hand moved to my panties. Hiking up my dress, he pulled my panties down a little. Never once did he stop kissing me as he walked us back to the table in the center of the room.


Tags: M. Robinson Romance