“I know. You’re right.” He stares down at me, his eyes like liquid fire, pain etched on every inch of his face like he’s barely holding himself together. “That’s what this is all about. This place is proof that I won’t ever, ever leave you again. Even if you don’t want me anymore, even if you decide you don’t want to speak with me, I’ll be here. Right here, in this theater, working to support you, and hopefully working to raise our child. I won’t go anywhere, ever again. I’m done with that. You’re my life now.”
“I wish I could believe you. But how can I trust you ever again? Baptist, you said youloveme. You said you love me then you ran away. Do you have any idea what that did to me?” The tears finally come, and I hate them, but I can’t stop it. “You shattered me. It was like you twisted me around and around and left me a drained and shallow wreck, like you wrung me out. I was so hollow. This past month has been hell. I can barely sleep, barely eat. Oh, and I’m pregnant, by the way, which fucking sucks and doesn’t feel all that great, and I really could’ve used your help and support. Instead, you were here, hiding out. Playing contractor. You fucking—”
“Blair.”
“You fucking asshole, you bastard—”
“Blair.” He steps closer, inches now, the heat rolling off him in waves. “Listen to me.”
“What? Why? Why should I listen to you ever again? What else are you going to say?”
“I love you.”
I step back, jaw hanging open.
I figured there were a lot of things he might tell me. More excuses, more promises. More nice visions of the future.
Not that.
Anything but that.
“Don’t.”
“I love you,” he says again, “and I’ll bleed to give you the life you deserve. I fucked up a month back. I made the biggest mistake I’ve ever made because I thought all I could make were bad decisions. I thought I was toxic. But this place is proof to myself and to you that I can be better. That I will be better.”
“Baptist, stop it.”
“I love you, and I love that baby you’re carrying. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for the last month, but it’s finished. I’m done here. I went through my atonement, and I need to come back now. I’m sorry, Blair. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Stop it,” I say, crying harder, and he comes to me. I push him away at first, weakly, half-hearted, but he pulls me against him and hugs me tight, holds me against his body, and I sob into his shoulder.
I cry because it feels so fucking good to have him touching me again, and I despise the way I’m falling deep into him, like I’m finally coming awake after years of a deep sleep. His touch is what I needed to finally drag me out of that hell and it’s like the world has color and light again.
This is my Baptist, and he says he’s back—and I believe him.
“I can’t just forget what you did,” I whisper as he nods and wipes away my tears.
“I don’t expect you to.”
“I can’t just forgive you.”
“You don’t have to. That won’t change anything. This place is really yours, and it’s going to give you the freedom you need to do whatever the hell you want.”
I smile ruefully. “Like raise a baby?”
“I’ll help with that, too. I’ll be as involved as you want. We’ll take it slow at first until you’re comfortable and you believe in me. We’ll go as slow as you need. Months, years, whatever you want. I’m here, Blair. I’m here.”
I cry again, but softer this time. He holds me against him and I feel his heart beating a steady rhythm, like this is the easiest thing he’s ever done.
I tilt my chin up and look into his eyes.
He looks back, head cocked to the side.
I stand on my toes and brush my lips against his. I shiver and release a soft groan—
And he slams his mouth onto mine, kissing me deep and slow, taking me the way I need him to, and I kiss him back with the same desperate fervor, the same ceaseless desire. I tangle myself into him and bask in his taste, in his touch, groaning as a month’s worth of desire floods me all at once.
This is what I’ve wanted, what I’ve dreamed of. Baptist back in my life, kissing me, holding me.