“Don’t what?” I asked, stepping closer to her, so close I could feel the heat coming off of her body.
“I don’t have the energy.” Her eyes opened, and her body turned. “I’m too tired for this. Just let me go.”
“No.” I pressed forward, our chests meeting, and her breaths stuttered, her body telling me that she wanted this—wanted me. And that was all I needed. She may have given up, but I had enough fight for the both of us. “I’m sorry,” I croaked out. I’d never apologized for anything, but for her, I’d say sorry a thousand times if it meant she’d look at me just one more time the way she had when she was spread out on my bed beneath me.
She blinked, probably in disbelief. “You’re sorry?”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, this time firmly. “I’m sorry I put you here. I’m sorry for being an asshole.” I pulled in a deep breath, and placed my palm on the side of her neck, willing her to take what I was saying at face value. “I’m sorry for everything, baby.” I paused. “I’m sorry for everything but the day I had you in my arms. The day you let me kiss you. The day you looked at me like the world started and ended with me.”
Her eyes welled up as she processed what I was saying. “I don’t know whether to believe you or not.” She shook her head, her body leaning toward m
e. She was at war in her own head, not sure which way to turn. I knew the feeling well because I’d battled with it too, but the thought of losing her altogether was too much to bear. I kept my gaze on her, trying to push my point home. “I think it’s too late,” she said softly, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye.
“No,” I ground out, pressing my forehead to hers. “It’s never too late.” I heaved in a breath, my nerves on edge. I wasn’t sure what else to say to her, what else I could say. So, I blurted out, “One chance.” Her stare met mine. ”Give me one chance to make it all right. One chance at a real shot.”
My breaths turned heavier as if I’d just run a marathon. “Take a leap of faith,” I begged her. “Take it with me.”
Her silence was deafening, her face not giving anything away for such a long time that I was sure I’d lost her. I’d lost her before I even had the chance to find her.
“Okay,” she said, the one word barely audible. “One shot.” She held her finger in the air. “That’s all you get.”
I closed my eyes, a relief I’d never felt before washing over me. I wasn’t sure what was happening between us, but I needed to find out.
“Stay with me tonight?” I asked, my stomach dipping with nerves. I’d never been nervous, but it was different with her.
Aida glanced back over at Vida, who lay cocooned in the sheets. “I…” She bit down on her bottom lip, a move that had me nudging my face closer to hers. I pressed my thumb on her chin, pulling her lip from between her teeth. “Just sleeping,” I told her. “Nothing else.” I paused as she turned back to me. “Nothing else once I’ve done this.” I pressed my lips against hers, unable to hold back any longer. She tensed, her body unsure, but she soon softened, her hand reaching out to rest on my chest.
It was soft, gentle, cautious, but I knew it was what she needed at that moment. She needed to know this wasn’t about sex. No. This was about me realizing she was becoming so much more than my wife in name alone. This was about me listening to my gut, just like I’d told her to do when I asked her to marry me.
I was taking my own advice. I just hoped she was too.
CHAPTER 13
AIDA
Warmth covered my entire back, a hand on my stomach, and for the briefest of moments, I forgot where I was. I forgot who I was lying next to. Forgot what had happened last night. But as I slowly opened my eyes and stared at the gray walls, it all came flooding back.
Lorenzo eating pizza with me and Vida on the sofa, ordering her the latest Disney movie to watch and then settling in with us. He’d made himself a fixture in our evening, and however much I wanted to deny it, I liked it. I liked that he made an effort with her. I liked that he didn’t blink twice at watching a princess movie.
But none of that compared to him apologizing. Out of everything that had happened last night, that was the most shocking. Even more so was the fact that I believed him. Every word he said had so much conviction behind it that it couldn’t be anything but the truth.
He groaned from behind me, his hand tensing on my stomach for a second before he pulled me closer to him. My back met his front, my body fusing with his, and it took me right back to that night—the night I’d given him a piece of me, and he’d taken it without a second thought.
What had changed between then and now? What had made him apologize?
“You said I was a mistake,” I whispered, feeling all the hope in me tumble to the ground. Had I been a fool to come into his room with him last night? Had I let the way he’d treated Vida impact my decision-making?
“When did I say that?” his deep, groggy voice asked.
I jumped, not expecting him to be awake. “I…” I pulled in a breath, regretting saying anything when I’d only just opened my eyes. But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t keep everything locked up inside, not now I was here. Not when he was this close to me.
“The day we were in here,” I started, staring at a picture on the wall and using it to center me. “You said you’d made a mistake.”
He stilled, and I started to regret saying anything. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. “Wait…” He gripped me harder, then rolled me so that I was facing him. “That’s not what I said.”
My stare met his. “You did. You said you didn’t wear a condom and that what we did was a mistake.”
“No.” He frowned down at me. “I said I’d made a mistake by not wearing a condom.” He glanced away, his throat bobbing as he stared behind me. “I always use protection. Always.” He looked back down at me. “But with you…I forgot.” He pressed closer, his bare chest meeting my front and his legs intertwining with mine. “You made me forget. You make me forget a lot of things.”