Mine to Promise (Southern Wedding #6)(22)

“Sure, let’s pretend,” I mumble before I get up. “I’m going to go and get lost in my work,” I inform them, “and pretend I’m not having dinner with my baby daddy tonight.”

“Good luck with that,” Clarabella voices to my retreating back.

“Ugh, I know,” I grumble to myself as I walk back to the kitchen and grab a cup of coffee before attacking all the emails. Mondays are always a bit hectic because of the weekends, but I finally walk out of the office at five after four. Even though I was busy, I felt like every single hour was a lifetime.

When I finally pick up Avery and get her home, I start the bath. “We’re going to wash up before dinner,” I tell her, walking over to her dresser as I look through her clothes.

“Can I wear a dress?” she asks me and I nod my head, walking to the closet and seeing the four dresses she has. I call them her Sunday best clothes. She takes a quick bath and is getting dressed when my phone rings.

I rush over to the kitchen table, grabbing it out of my purse. His name flashes on the screen.

“Hello.”

“Hi, it’s me,” he says to me, “Stefano.”

“Yes, I know; it says your name when you call.” I laugh at him.

I hear him chuckle. “I’m outside.” My head whips to the balcony door and I quickly walk over.

“Outside where?” I ask him, my feet stuck to the floor.

“Outside your place.” It’s his turn to laugh.

“What?” I shriek before I walk over to the balcony door, unlocking it, and pulling it open.

Stepping outside and looking over the railing, I see him standing in front of the door. He’s wearing a pair of jeans and a black shirt. The aviator glasses on his face hide his green eyes.

I quickly back up and out of sight. “What are you doing here?” I say quietly, so he doesn’t look up.

“Well, you didn’t text me,” he replies, and I close my eyes.

“I was going to text you in a bit,” I admit to him as soon as I calmed myself down.

“Can I come up?” he asks me. No, my head screams, you can’t come up here.

“Um, sure,” I say, walking back inside and toward the front door. “We are apartment four,” I tell him right before I press the buzzer.





stefano

. . .

T he sound of the buzzer makes me take a step toward the glass door, pulling it open. The door clicks open as I step into the apartment building. The staircase is on one side while brass mailboxes are on the other. Putting my aviator glasses on top of my head, I take the six steps up that lead me to apartment one and two before turning and walking up more steps where I get to another landing, but this one only has one door with the number three on it.

The closer I get to her apartment, the more nervous I get. I spent the better part of the day looking at houses. It was the most surreal experience of my life. Choosing a house, knowing that I’m going to have a child grow up in it. I was worried about the school district. I was worried about parks in the neighborhood. I was even worried about the fucking crime rate in the area. It was as if, overnight, I became my uncles and it suddenly all made sense. All of their overbearing craziness they do, I understood it all.

I take a deep inhale as I come up to the next landing, seeing her door with the number four next to the door that is number five. I stand in front of the brown door and literally psych myself up. “You’ve got this,” I tell myself. “She’s four, how hard can it be?” I take one more deep breath before I knock on the door.

I can hear the sound of little feet running on the other side of the door, and a smile just fills my face. “Who is it, Momma?” I hear her voice. “Is it pizza?”

“I don’t think so,” Addison says, “but we should see who it is.”

“Look inside the hole,” Avery shouts, “in case it’s a killer!”

I shake my head, chuckling at the way she said the word. “Go get dressed,” I hear Addison say to her before I hear her little feet running away from the door. The sound of the locks opening makes my heart speed up a touch faster, my hands get even more sweaty as I hold the bags in them. The door swings open and I see Addison with a smile on her face. “Hi,” she says, holding the door handle.

She’s wearing black dress pants that hug her curves and stop at her ankles, her feet are bare. The white button-down shirt flows around her and is tucked into the pants. She looks so professional, and I wonder if she’s as nervous as I am. “Welcome.” She moves aside for me to step inside.

“Thank you,” I say, nodding at her as I walk in and stand on her little carpet at the door, “for

having me.” I take a look around at the small apartment that is neat and tidy, but bare and minimal. She has a small two-seat couch with a TV stand with a tiny television on it. The kitchen and dining area are right on the other side of the room.

“What do you have there?” Addison asks me as she closes the door behind me.

“I brought her flowers,” I say, holding up the flowers I picked up right before I got here. “I got pink flowers since they looked like princess flowers,” I tell her, nervously holding them up for her to see them.

“Those are very pretty,” she admires, with a smirk on her face.