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Without telling a soul, I wrote him back a short note, telling him I’d lost the baby. I prayed that God would forgive that lie and not hold it against me, but I figured if it severed the tie between us and him, all the better.
Now, Elizabeth was a reality, pink and chubby and perfect, and a new letter with that same handwriting and Italian postmark was taunting me. What was there to possibly say now?
I glanced over as the baby started to squirm in her bassinet. She’d be waking and squalling with hunger in about two minutes.
“Damn it,” I whispered, knowing I couldn’t ignore it.
With nausea rolling heavy in my stomach, I slid my finger under the flap of the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper.
His words were simple, to the point, and utterly terrifying.
Olivia,
She is my daughter too. It would be unwise of you to forget that.
C.
Twenty-Six
Justin
The low growl of thunder woke me, and I cracked my eyes open, surprised I’d slept so soundly. The scent of rain and wildflowers filled the dark room as I came instantly aware of the fact that I was alone, the side of the bed where Olivia should’ve been, cold and empty.
I sat up and glanced at the red numbers on her bedside clock. Not only had I slept like the dead with no bad dreams, no ghosts of my past chasing me, just sweet peace... but I’d overslept. The storm outside had masked the dawn, but I was always up before the sun.
I ran a hand over my face, then rolled out of bed, grabbing my clothes that were scattered along the floor and yanking on my jeans. I inched open the door to peek out, and with the hallway clear, I padded out to the kitchen barefooted.
“Man Jusin!” Elizabeth greeted me from her high chair, the last few bites of a cut up banana and pancake in front of her.
Olivia turned from the sink and our eyes met before she quickly broke eye contact to wipe Elizabeth’s face.
“Good morning,” I said slowly, frowning at how Olivia kept her back to me. No sunny smiles, no knowing looks after all we’d shared. I moved to the coffeemaker and poured a mug. “Sleep well?” I asked, wondering what time she’d gotten up.
“Not really.”
I turned and leaned against the counter, taking in her body language. Something was definitely off.
She reluctantly faced me, driving a dozen daggers into my heart. Was she regretting things between us already? Was she second-guessing her feelings? Mine? “The storm kept me up.”
But that was a lie. We both knew it.
“You should’ve woken me up,” I said.
“No...” She removed Elizabeth’s tray and picked her up. “You were sleeping so soundly. I couldn’t do that.”
I set my mug aside and took a step in her direction but froze when she tensed up. “Olivia. What is—?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m running late. I need to get Elizabeth to daycare, then get to the studio.” She brushed by me, glancing up into my face. “I’m so behind on everything since we were closed so long. Talk later?”
Everything in me wanted to grab her, grab them both, and demand she talk to me now. But I knew pushing her would do me no good. I needed to give her space to work out whatever was going on in her mind. “Sure...” She spun away, relief all over her. “But one thing...” I gripped her arm and gently turned her back toward me.
“What—?”
I leaned in, close enough that I could kiss her, making her breath catch. But I didn’t. Not in front of Elizabeth. Not yet. Instead, I diverted and brushed my nose along her jaw toward her ear to whisper. “I love you, baby. Please don’t forget that, and please don’t pull away from me.”
She drew back, her eyes wide and emotional. “I promised you I wouldn’t.”
“Then don’t.”