"I hope I'm not interrupting?"
I shook my head. "No. Not at all. Is everything okay?" It occurred to me that maybe something was wrong with the babies.
"Everything's fine. I just... Well, I wasn't very polite last night, and—"
"After the way I've behaved, you had no duty to be polite to me."
"I wanted to tell you that I'm happy that you want to be in the babies’ lives. I only requested the termination because you—"
I waved my hand to stop her. "I totally understand why you did that. You were looking out for the babies. I was an asshole, and you have every right to protect them from assholes, especially if it’s their father. But I don’t want to be an asshole."
She smiled, but it was still tentative.
I led her to the kitchen, putting water in my electric kettle and pressing the button to warm it. I put another pod in the coffee maker to make me a new cup of coffee.
As we waited for the water to heat and the coffee to brew, I leaned against the counter. I felt like a teenager on his first date. There were so many emotions. There was giddiness, even. I couldn’t help but think her showing up was kismet. Now I just needed to gather the strength to tell her how I felt and what I wanted.
I stepped toward her, watching her carefully to make sure my approach didn't make her uncomfortable. Her eyes studied me, but she didn't look afraid or concerned.
I let my gaze run down to where her hands gently rubbed her belly. For months now, our children had been growing inside her. Much of that time, I was aware of it, and yet I rejected them. Guilt threatened to eat me alive.
I nodded to her belly as I reached out a hand. "May I?"
She moved her hands away and nodded.
Tentatively, I reached out, putting both my hands on the swell of her belly. It was firmer than I had expected. I thought of the two lives growing inside her. The image of it in my mind brought me to my knees, literally. I sank to the floor, my hands over her belly in reverence.
"I can't believe there are lives in there."
She jerked, stepping back. I lifted my gaze to hers, wondering what I’d done.
"I'm not lying, James."
I shook my head, hating that she thought I was accusing her and knowing it was my own damn fault that she did.
I dropped my head in shame. "That's not what I'm saying. I know you're not lying." I lifted my gaze to her, knowing I needed to face her. "What I can't believe is that a man like me could create life." I laughed in embarrassment. "I mean, I understand how it works, but considering who I am, how I am, how could something good come from me?"
Her gaze softened. "You're not bad, James. You're just..."
I gave her a sheepish smile. "Selfish and self-centered? A jerk? Asshole? Ungrateful? Cruel?" All those traits made me ashamed, but the last one... the cruelty and the pain I’d caused her really unsettled me. I would have to live with that for the rest of my life. It was the reason she probably didn't love me anymore. And while I couldn't deny being all those things, I owed it to her to tell her that I wasn't only those things. I was capable of more if I just got out of my own damn way.
Still on my knees, my ass resting on my heels, it seemed the perfect position to confess my sins as well as my feelings. And to beg, if needed.
"I wish I could take back the moment you told me you were pregnant. I wish I could've been a different man. I just... I just was so focused on one thing." I lifted my head to look at her. "I didn't believe there could be anything else in my life. I have never loved anybody, and nobody ever loved me. Well, there's Amelia, but that's different." I shook my head, feeling like I was fucking this whole speech up. "The point is, I didn't believe in you or me. Not until it was too late."
Her brow furrowed, head tilted to the side, and I knew she was at least listening.
This was a good sign. "There was a moment when I began to change. I started to want more for us. I came home wanting to tell you, but that's when your ex was here. All I heard was how we wanted you back and how the baby was his. And if you told him he wasn’t the father, I didn't hear it." I tapped the side of my head with my fingers. "Up here was a voice running non-stop, telling meI told you so. Telling me that love wasn't real, at least not for me."
This time, when her eyes narrowed, I could see she wasn't buying what I was selling. "You called me a liar. You made me out to be a gold-digger."
I bowed my head in shame again. "I said the worst possible things. It was all from pain and fear and anger." I looked at her again. "I'm sorry, Reyna. I wish I'd never said those things. I wish there were a way I could erase them, take them back, make them go away. But I can't, and because of that, I've lost the best damn thing that ever happened to me."
I studied her, trying to read her, and while she didn't look skeptical, she didn't look like she believed me, either.
"In the boardroom last night, I was eager to wipe George’s sneer off his face. I wanted to see him squirm. But as I did it, it all felt so empty. Like what the fuck would it matter if he went to jail? What would it matter if I succeeded and secured my status as the head of the company? Do you know what the greatest time in my life has been?"
She shook her head.