“I—” It takes me a moment to think about it. “Sometimes I think I do,” I admit softly. “I lost my career in the end anyway, after all, for an entirely different reason. I wonder if it was all worth it, if I might have had a different life that made me happier, if I might have escaped all of this pain. But in the end–no. I don’t regret it.” As I say it, I realize that it’s true. “It wasn’t the right time. I’m not prepared now, but Idefinitely wasn'tprepared then. I had very little support and even less money. The father wouldn’t have been involved at all. I would have been almost all alone. I wouldn’t have been able to do it. And if I’d made that choice–yes, a lot of the awful things that have happened to me might not have. I wouldn’t have met Sofia, lived with her–I would have been living somewhere else with my child, a single mother. An entirely different life. But I also wouldn’t be here now. I never would have met Liam.”
“And now? If you made that choice now, do you think you would regret it?”
I look at Max in surprise, and he smiles. “Ana, I’m not here to judge you. I’m not actually a priest any longer, remember? And anyway, I’d like to think I wouldn’t have judged you even then. I’m here to listen to you and help you find your way.”
“I think I might,” I whisper. “But how do I know if I’ll be a good mother? My own mother tried, but she struggled so much. I don’t even know if I would have chosen to have children if this hadn’t just—happened. Now I think I want it—but what ifnotwanting it before means I’d be a bad mother? I wasn’t sad the first time. I just felt relieved that it was done, and I could move on and go back to the life I’d worked so hard for.”
“The choices you made in your old life don’t mean anything for your life now,” Max says gently. “You’re not the same person, Ana. I think the fact that you’re so worried about being a bad mother means that, truthfully, you’re probably more likely to be agoodone. You want this baby to have a good life. You want to make the right choice for you and for this child. You’re already a good mother, Ana, because you’re putting so much thought and effort into that. And whatever that means—going back to Manhattan and doing it on your own or staying here with Liam—you’ll make that choice with your baby’s best interests in mind as well as your own. But,” he adds, grimacing, “I will say that I don’t think you should go back to Paris with Alexandre.”
“No!” I shake my head emphatically. “I’m not going to do that. I’ve already told Alexandre we’re done—that I can’t raise a baby with him. What was between us—I’ve tried to do what you said and held on to the good parts, the parts I needed while letting go of the rest and moving forward. I didn’t expect him to come here after me. But what we had together can’t turn into this. It just can’t.”
“I’m glad you’ve come to that understanding.” Max hesitates. “Do you love Liam, Ana?”
The question is plain and simple, and I know the answer the moment I hear it.
“Yes,” I answer, just as simply. “I do.”
“He loves you.” Max looks at me kindly. “I would give him a chance to show you that he can do what he says, Ana, and love you both no matter the true parentage of your child. After all, Joseph loved a child that wasn’t his, and the world was better for it.”
“I’m no Virgin Mary,” I say with a laugh, and Max chuckles.
“No, that’s true. And I’m not here to deliver a sermon to you, just as I’m not here to take your confession. I’m here to listen, and that’s all. But Ana—”
“Yes?”
“I believe that Liam means what he says. I believe that given a chance, he will do everything he can not to make the same mistakes his father did. And that includes loving this baby, no matter what.”
I feel tears rising up again, clogging my throat and burning behind my eyes, and I can’t speak. I just nod, and Max reaches out, squeezing my hand.
“If you need anything, I’m here,” he says gently. “Just a phone call away, for either of you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
It’s barely noon, but I get into the bath anyway once Max leaves. I feel exhausted, aching all over from the stresses of the last twenty-four hours, and I sink into the hot water, closing my eyes.
I don’t want to leave Liam. New York, the place I’d called my home for so long, feels a million miles away.Thisfeels like my home now, not just Boston, but this penthouse, this space that I’ve shared with Liam. The thought of leaving it breaks my heart every bit as much as when I’d had to leave the apartment I’d shared with Sofia, the last real home I’d had.
I love Liam. Down to my bones, I know it’s true. I haven’t been able to tell him yet, by his own request, but I’ve known it for days, weeks even, and yesterday's events only confirmed it for me. The feelings I’d had for Alexandre—the feelings I still have, in a way—are a thing of the past. They belong to another girl, another Ana, just as the life I’d lived before the tragedies of the last few months belongs to another girl, too.
Here, in Boston, it feels like I’ve started a new chapter, a new life. I can’t go backward. I know that for sure.
All that’s left is to figure out how to go forward.
I lay in the bath for a long time, running through everything in my head. What finally jolts me out of my thoughts is the sound of my phone ringing. I sit up, water and suds sloshing as I reach for it, hoping it’s Liam calling me to tell me he’s coming back home early.
It’s Caterina instead, and I answer it quickly.
“Cat?”
“Hey, Ana. Don’t be upset at her for this, but—Sofia talked to me.”
I have a brief pang of hurt. I would have wanted to decide when to tell Caterina myself—but I understand, too. Without me there, Cat is all Sofia has besides Luca. If Luca and Viktor are upset with Liam’s relationship with me, I know it’s probably put a strain on Sofia and Luca. I can’t blame her for wanting to talk to Cat—especially since this affects Cat and Viktor, too, via Liam’s alliance with them.
Not for the first time, I wish more than anything that Liam was just a normal man. Not an Irish King, not part of a huge crime family—just a man who could choose to be with me and not have so many consequences arise because of it. Someone who could make choices freely without having so many things to consider.
“Ana?”
“I’m here.” I clear my throat. “She told you the—um—news?”