“I know.” She swallows, looking down at her fingers briefly. “But the decision about what to do with the baby couldn’t be mine alone. I mean, she was yours, too. So I was going tell you the next day, but then Erin called and said you’d been in an accident. When I went to the hospital, I saw your brothers. Blake didn’t take kindly to my being there, and he said some…pretty bad things. You were in surgery.”
I already know this part. “You jumped to the worst conclusion.”
She nods, her pale cheeks flushing. “I did, and I’m sorry. The whole situation just felt…so familiar to what my dad did to my mom. Almost like déjà vu. And then I looked you up, and found out about Faye and everything, and…I just couldn’t.” She shakes her head, her fingers twisting. “I had to cut ties. Completely. But I also had no idea what to do with the baby. I didn’t tell anyone I was pregnant. I just kept it all in, wondering and thinking about how I was going to get a job and pay for everything. I heard Erin talk about how much it cost her older sister to have twins, and that was with insurance. I didn’t have anything.”
My hands clench, and it’s all I can do to modulate my breathing. My heart constricts at the image of Ava alone…pregnant and hurting and scared. Who gives a shit about my rehab issues? I should’ve done more to find out what happened. I should’ve been there for her whether she liked it or not—to grovel, to explain Faye, explain why I did what I did and…
I screwed up. Monumentally.
She continues, “When I was visiting Ray and Darcy a couple months later—I wasn’t showing yet—I fainted while getting up from a chair. They took me to the hospital, and that’s how they found out. They wanted to know what I planned to do, and when I told them I had no clue, they offered to pay for everything, no strings attached. They were worried I wouldn’t get the care I needed, and…I don’t know if I could’ve gotten through the whole thing if it hadn’t been for them.
“And when Mia was born… She was too small. I felt like it was my fault for not having had good prenatal care from the beginning.”
I can’t speak through the lump in my throat. She’s wrong. It wasn’t her fault Mia was born too small. It was mine. If I hadn’t been such an idiot, Ava could’ve had the best care, the best of everything, and Mia would’ve been born big and healthy. I know it.
“I had no idea what to do,” Ava says. “I was completely unprepared for everything, and it was Ray and Darcy who stepped in and made sure Mia and I got what we needed. Watching them care for Mia made me realize I could never give her the kind of life and opportunities she deserved. I wasn’t even working full-time. I couldn’t afford daycare without a full-time job, but no one wants to hire a single mom who just had a baby. I knew Darcy and Ray wanted to have children of their own but couldn’t, so it made the most sense for me to ask if they’d like to adopt Mia. And they said yes.” She places an elbow on her knee and rests her forehead in her palm. “When you showed up again, it put me in a complicated situation. I couldn’t cut Darcy, Ray and Mia out of my life, but that also meant I had to tell you the truth at some point. I just didn’t know when…or how. I wasn’t sure how you’d react to the news two years after the fact. I told Ray you and I could have another baby if that’s what we decided, but children… They touch us and bring out emotions and drives that we never knew existed. I never thought I’d want to have children, but when I realized I was pregnant…Lucas, I wanted that little girl more than anything.”
Ava’s version is…abbreviated, but it’s more than enough for me to fill in the blanks and feel the pain and conflict she’s been under. I push off the mantel, my legs stiff and my gait uneven. She doesn’t look up. I rest my weight on the edge of the couch, like her, then reach out and take her cold, clammy hand in mine.
She finally lifts her head, looks at me with eyes darkened by old, painful memories. There’s no recrimination or anger, and that only makes me feel worse.
“I’m sorry I put you through that. I should’ve been braver. Better,” I say.
“Lucas…”
“Letting people in is never easy, and I should’ve realized how my actions would affect you. Back then I was only worried about protecting myself. I assumed our relationship would blow up eventually, because I didn’t deserve anything better. But that’s all wrong. I ended up hurting you—hurting us—because I didn’t have faith. I didn’t think we could have it all…and so I didn’t fight for it.” I pause, shame making me unable to go on. I let my mother’s toxic words linger, even after cutting her out of my life years ago, and hurt the one woman I want to treasure above all.
Ava reaches out, cups my neck and gently pulls until our foreheads are touching, our breaths mingling.
“I’m not entirely blameless either. I should have fought for what I wanted, told you what you should’ve heard two years ago,” she whispers. “And I’m glad you’re giving me a chance to tell you now.”
I cradle her beloved face. “I couldn’t do anything else. When I was going to propose to Faye, you didn’t let me go. You fought for me. I made a very deliberate choice to listen and trust you and accept your love.”
Tears start to flow, trailing down her cheeks. I see relief, joy and gratitude in her eyes, and know they’re reflected in my heart. I press my lips against hers, but all too soon she pulls back.
“There’s…one more thing,” she says.
I stiffen, bracing for another lacerating memory. But I deserve this, too—whatever pain is coming will be part of my penance. “What?”
“Hold on.” She rises to her feet and goes to the door. Outside are Darcy and Ray, with Mia in tow. Darcy hands Ava the toddler, and she brings the child to me. “You ne
ver got to hold her.”
I pull back, suddenly unsure. “But…” I can’t say the rest…that I’m unworthy of touching something as perfect as this child. I look at Ray.
“I was wrong at the dinner.” He nods. “Go ahead.”
I take the girl in my arms, feeling her tiny softness. She’s in a pretty pink dress with lots of lace and tiny pear buttons. I smell the clean, heartbreakingly lovely scent of a young child, and I can’t look away. Her eyes are guileless and bright, her smile sweetly inviting as though asking me to love her because she’s awesome and she thinks I’m interesting and just the person to give her the love she wants.
She reaches out and touches my hair and my face.
Manipulation. When you say things like “I love you,” you’re trying to get the other person to say it back. Putting pressure on someone.
You’re being needy.
Needy children are the worst.
My chest swells with emotion, and I can’t speak. Mia wants me to love her, and she’s reaching out to me. But I already love her so much I’d gladly give up my life for hers. Loving someone and wanting the person to love you back doesn’t make you needy. It makes you human.