Page 51

I’m about to press for more—I’m determined to learn as much as I can before the day is over.
Why did she move here? Why did she stay if Ava’s father passed? Was he also Colombian?
Before I can say anything, Ava shushes us with an intense look.
I stifle a laugh as Camila snuggles with Ava. As she does, her arse lifts in a way that brings it against my thigh.
I take a few deep breaths, willing my dick to behave. I can’t sport a boner in front of a child.
At some point, Ava falls asleep, leaving Camila and me to continue our chat.
“So have you been single since Ava was born?”
She releases a deep breath before talking. I can tell there’s a lot to unpack here.
“Even before that. I met Konstantine a year after I moved here. We worked at the same pub, and hit it off immediately. We were inseparable from day one.”
Her gaze is fixed on a distant memory, and her smile is sad.
“One day, a fight broke out at the pub. Konstantine tried to separate the two men in the brawl. One of them had a knife and…”
She doesn’t finish. She doesn’t have to.
Against my better judgement, I hug her, and I can feel the tension from the memory leave her body.
She feels safe with me. And somehow that makes me feel elated.
“And then, two weeks after he passed, I learned I was expecting,” she adds.
My heart aches for her. “That must have been so hard,” I say against her hair.
“You have no idea. When I told my parents, they disowned me. And right then, I decided I was going to be the best mum my baby could have.”
Damn, this woman. Talk about strength and resilience. She’s incredible.
“And you are,” I say, squeezing her shoulder.
She burrows deeper into me. “Thanks. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ll never stop trying.”
We stay quiet, the movie credits have stopped running, but neither of us moves—to start another film or to pull away from each other.
What I’m feeling in this moment is not something I’ve ever felt before. But the longer I stay on this sofa with this woman and her daughter, the deeper I feel a sense of belonging.
It’s strange, yet wonderful.
And terrifying.
I might have found a woman I could ask to marry me—to save my family’s legacy.
But I need to know more. Iwantto know everything about her. About them.
“So when you took off early the other day to take Ava to the doctor,” I say, preparing to ask what’s been on my mind all day, “is everything okay with her?”
Camila doesn’t respond immediately, but she doesn’t pull away from me either. I take that as a win.
She exhales softly. “I didn’t know about this condition until Ava was around two, when she started having signs of anemia. It turns out she has thalassemia—a genetic condition. The doctor said it’s really common in people of Mediterranean descent. Apparently, Konstantine carried the gene, but it never came up in the few months we dated.”
She pauses again, and it feels like she’s working up the courage to talk about this. I’m just thankful she’s been so open with me.