“I don’t see it that way.” His words were quiet, but his hands had moved to my hips and were holding me gently.
“I know. And I’m so sorry you’ve been battling with that by yourself. You aren’t to blame for a single thing your father ever did.”
“According to him, I was to blame for everything. My room wasn’t clean enough. My grades weren’t good enough. I didn’t call him sir loud enough. Everything I did was wrong.”
My heart wasn’t just cracking open now. It was shattering into a million shards.
I held on tighter to him. “You did nothing wrong, Lucian. That was all on him. He was a broken man who tried to break you, but he failed. On his best day, he would never be able to hold a candle to you. I’m so proud of the boy you were, the man you became. You took back your family name, and made it mean something good. You don’t have him in you. I see more of my father than yours in you.”
“I have a temper. But I’m working on it. I’ve been working on it.” He gestured to Emry, who was still devouring pistachios like a chipmunk.
I snorted indelicately. “Who doesn’t have a temper? It’s what we choose to do with it that matters. Your self-control is annoyingly impressive. And that’s coming from someone who dedicated most of her adult life to trying to drive you nuts.”
Lucian shook his head. “All this time, I thought I needed to forgive you for what you did.”
“How about now?” I prompted.
“And just like it wasn’t your fight to win, it was never your apology to make.”
“I feel like you’re gearing up to apologize to me. Are you hangry or dehydrated?” I asked.
He traced his knuckles over my cheek. “You don’t need to apologize to me, Pix. Because I don’t need to forgive you.”
“Do you want, like, a Snickers or something?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Sloane. Sorry for blaming you. Sorry for putting you in the position where you felt you had no choice. Sorry for never communicating what I really wanted or needed until now.”
“What do you need now?” I asked breathily.
“You. Only you. Always you.”
Now I was downright terrified.
He was closing the distance between us. His breath was hot against my face, and I was already anticipating the feel of his lips on mine.
“I think you’ve both done some excellent work here tonight,” Emry said, wrecking the moment like a human record scratch. “I’d like to suggest that you take some time to get to know each other on a deeper, more intimate level before you make any decisions.”
“Time?” Lucian repeated, like the word tasted bitter on his tongue.
“There’s a lot of undoing to be done. This is real life. It’s not like the movies where one grand gesture will convince Sloane that you aren’t going to close down and abandon her again,” Emry explained.
I’d seen that look before on Lucian’s handsome face. A challenge had been laid, and he was compelled to meet it.
“Now, who’s ready for some wine?” Emry asked.
“Me,” I said with more than a hint of desperation.
Naomi: How are things with Lucian?
Lina: Has he let you out of his bedroom/sight yet?
Me: Things are…complicated. Well, not in the bedroom, just everywhere else. He says he’s committed to this. That he’s not going to change his mind. He’s saying all the right stuff. Everything I’ve spent years wishing he’d say. But I still feel like I’d be an addled idiot to just happily believe he’s going to stick around and make a family with me.
Lina: What if he buys you a castle or something as a symbol of your happily ever after?
Me: I wouldn’t hate that.
Naomi: Or maybe his grand gesture will be listening to the therapist and proving himself to you over time?
Me: Great. We’ll play “getting to know you” while my eggs shrivel into raisins. I just don’t think there’s anything he could do that would undo twenty-plus years of distrust. At least not before I’m a barren wasteland of fertility.
Naomi: There are other ways to be a parent.
Lina: Yeah. You just have to wait for your evil twin to abandon the child you didn’t know about.
Naomi: I was thinking more along the lines of adoption. But I can confirm that the evil twin thing works!
Lina: Hey guys, not to steal the spotlight, but I’m getting married next week!
Me: Has Nash thrown a Morgan hissy fit over baby’s breath yet?