“How far apart would your daughters have been?” We’re snuggled on the couch together, my back resting on the armrest as I face her, my legs sprawled on either side of her and my hands rest in her lap, stroking her thighs.
“She would have been four by the time Charlotte was born.” She hesitates, like she wants to say something else, and my chest constricts. I’ve almost done the math when she drops the bombshell. “Mila was your daughter, Dom.”
My heart sinks into my stomach as I process her words. I was supposed to be a father. Hell, I am a father. The news hits me like a bus. Suddenly, and with no warning, I feel like I’m grieving. Grieving for losing a child I will never know. Grieving the idea of seeing Andi through her pregnancy.
All of this is my fault. I never should have left her. I should have been there for her.
I haven’t said anything, so she speaks again. “Wow. That’s the first time I’ve ever said her name out loud.”
“You hid this from me? For the last two months?” Maybe I should be more forgiving, more understanding. I definitely shouldn’t be a dick, but how could she have hid this from me? She should have told me sooner.
“I’m sorry. I should have told you right away. I was trying to figure out how, and to be honest, I just wasn’t ready.”
“You’re damn right you should have told me, Andi. Jesus Christ.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, then I grab her shoulders, my fingers gripping her so tightly that the flesh indents. Guilt overrides my anger. I shouldn’t have ever left her. “I didn’t know. You’ve got to believe me, if I had, I wouldn’t have stayed away.” As I rub circles on her back, she rests her chin against my chest and looks up at me.
Sucking in a breath, my lips tremble. “I fucked up. I should have been there for you and I shouldn’t have lied to you. Everything would be so different if I had just been a man. If I’d just been honest.”
Her words come out on a tremble. “You’re right. Everything would be different. Even if the accident still happened, and I lost Mila. I wouldn’t have my girl. I wouldn’t have the farm. I was so lost when I lost her. Even after, so lost until I found you again.”
“I…” I clear my throat, playing with her hair. “The first time I got shot, I freaked out. I realized how stupid I was. I was wearing a vest and I’ve been shot at before, but the day it hit my Kevlar for the first time, all I thought about was how much I needed you. I went to Mac’s looking for you. You were there with Matt and seemed so happy with him. I thought you’d moved on. Shit, I even watched him propose, and I felt so sick. But I couldn’t ruin anything else for you.”
“Oh, baby,” she sighs. “I may have looked happy, but I was so very broken.”
“Really?” For whatever reason, that makes me feel worse. To know she’s been suffering alone, hiding her pain. At that point, it had been about two years since I last saw her. Two years of pain that she hid extremely too well. I should have known.
“Charlotte saved me, but she didn’t take it away. She didn’t fix me. She saved me. I don’t know how much longer I would have lasted without her.”
I look down at her as she tells me, without actually saying the words, that she wanted to end her life. It’s so fucking heartbreaking imagining the world without her. She wasn’t just my sunshine. She lit up the room for anyone. The way she meshed well with Scarlett and cheered up Lila was proof enough.
I should have been there to help her, instead of being a selfish asshole. “If the depression ever consumes you again, you have to tell me. You have to promise to tell me.” My words are desperate, needy.
“I will.” Andi grabs my face, crashing her lips to mine. She mewls when I slide my tongue into her mouth and twist and turn it with hers. The need to physically touch overwhelms her, and she grinds against me.
Tears run down her face, even though she’s smiling, and I pull away. “Why are you crying?”
“You came back for me,” she says through the tears. “You came back.”
“And I’m never going to leave you, ever again. We belong together.”