Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
I had two choices in which I could react to his statement. Anger or understanding. And in my heart, I knew that nobody would ever understand Lucian the way that I did.
“I would never want to take him from you.” I placed a hand over our son. “He needs you as much as I do.”
Lucian’s entire body was stone, and it was clear how torn he was. He’d been down this road before, betrayed in the worst possible way by someone he should have been able to trust. Even though I understood that, it didn’t mean his doubts didn’t hurt. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe this would be resolved overnight, but I had to tell him the truth. I had to say it in case it was the only chance I got.
I hoisted myself out of the chair and moved slowly around the desk, approaching him like a wild animal. Uncertain how close he would let me get, I stopped two feet away, our eyes locked together.
“You left so suddenly.” My voice cracked. “I never got to tell you how I really felt.”
“Gypsy—” He looked away, hiding his emotions over the words that might come.
“I loved you, Lucian.” Tears leaked down my cheeks as I said it. “I still do. And I didn’t plan on that. I didn’t plan on any of this, but I won’t take it back.”
He swallowed hard and tried to meet my eyes, but he couldn’t.
“Don’t let your past poison what we have,” I pleaded. “I know what I was, but I’m not that person anymore. And you aren’t the person who accuses innocent people of crimes they didn’t commit.”
The last words seemed to jar him out of whatever daze he was in as he blinked and shook his head. “We aren’t going to figure this out tonight. You should be resting.”
I took a tentative step closer, my fingers itching to touch his face. But I was scared of the rejection that might happen if I tried. Instead, I touched his hand with mine, just barely, but enough to feel his warmth again. He glanced down at the place where our skin met, and he seemed too paralyzed to move.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Is your health… okay?”
He cleared his throat and shut his eyes again. “You should go to bed, Gypsy.”
GYPSY LOOKED AT ME IN question as I walked around the opposite side of the bed. The side that she used to sleep on, but now she was in mine. “I’m going to stay in here tonight,” I told her. “So I can keep an eye on you.”
It was the lie I wanted to believe, and if I was looking for a reaction from her, I got one. Hurt flashed in her eyes as she gave me a stiff nod, and I laid down beside her.
There was only two feet between us, but it felt like so much more. I stayed on top of the covers, fully dressed, afraid that if I even brushed her skin I wouldn’t be able to control myself. It took her a long time to fall back asleep, and even then, she was restless. I doubted the light of morning would bring me clarity. I didn’t know what to believe at all.
For two hours, I listened to the soft sounds of her breathing, too on edge to sleep myself. I was afraid she would try to run. I was afraid of losing her and the baby. But most of all, I was afraid that what she said was true. She had nothing to do with the attempt on my life, and someone else had been orchestrating our demise.
I felt helpless and shaken when I considered it. Had I been so blinded by my own insecurities that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me?
I rolled onto my side and studied Gypsy. I watched the way her rounded belly rose and fell in time to her breathing. My child was inside her, and there hadn’t been time to process it. We hadn’t even talked about it, but I wanted to. I wanted to reach out and touch her there now. To feel what we made together. Surely, it couldn’t have been a lie?
Gypsy jolted in her sleep, her features pinching together painfully as her hand reached into the space between us. She cried out, and I thought she was hurt when she opened her eyes and tears leaked from the edges.
“Lucian,” she whimpered as her fist curled into my shirt and clung to me.
“What is it?” I asked. “Are you hurt?”
“I thought it was a dream,” she cried. “I thought you left me again.”
Sobs wracked her body as she curled into the fetal position, and I had no recourse against the pain that sliced through my chest. If she was lying, it was too convincing even for me. I moved closer and took her in my arms, wrapping her against my chest as I petted her hair and tried in vain to calm her. “I’m here.”