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CHAPTER FIFTY

"What did you just say?"

"I can’t see any other way to spend as much time as possible with Sedric. It’s time he gets used to having me in his life. I’m not going to risk him growing up without remembering me from his early childhood."

I open my mouth to protest, but guilt stops me.

LJ stands and comes toward me. Taking both my hands, he lifts me to my feet. "I want both of you."

"Because now your future is secured? You finally have the heir you always wanted?"

As if I’ve shocked him, he lets go of me—and I feel ashamed of myself. I cover my face with my hands. "I’m sorry," I say, for the first time taking the initiative to approach him. "What I said was awful, but I’m scared, LJ."

"I’m not giving up on you two, Alexis. You’re mine, the family I want—and it has nothing to do with any past plans.

We both made mistakes, and I’ll never be able to show you how much I regret not looking for you before.

But if we stay stuck in the past, it’ll hurt our son—and we’ll never have a real fresh start. "

"How can we have a fresh start when we never really began?"

"Call it whatever you want, Alexis. Just know I’m not leaving your life again."

I could lie and say I don’t want him near us—but I’m done hurting both myself and him. "Moving in here doesn’t mean the two of us?—"

"Right now, I’m living one day at a time, Alexis. My focus is our new beginning, being close to you, to my son, and making sure you fully recover from surgery."

"I can do that. Live one day at a time, I mean."

He looks at me intensely, and for a moment, I’m sure he’s going to kiss me again. To my disappointment, he only presses a soft kiss to my forehead—then leaves the room. I tell myself he’s just respecting the boundary I set—but I can’t fight the hollow feeling that rushes in.

Four weeks later

It’s been twenty days since LJ moved into my apartment—and two weeks since Mom went back to Cape Cod. Sedric’s father hired a nurse for me and a nanny for our son, and my mother took the opportunity to return to her husband.

Her words were, "When you marry, you want your own home"—and although what LJ and I have isn’t a marriage, I understood her point.

Besides, my mom can’t hide how much she adores Sedric’s father—or how much she’s rooting for us to get together. She even calls him "son-in-law," and the camaraderie between the two of them used to irritate me. Now I’ve made peace with the fact that, even without trying, LJ is irresistible.

I sigh, feeling like a wicked woman.

Saying Lazarus hasn’t made any effort to fix things between us would be a lie. He’s been nothing but perfect.

But calling us a "couple" couldn’t be further from the truth.

What we have is definitely not a marriage. He wakes up before me, and I always find him sitting in our son’s room, already dressed for work—shirt, tie, but barefoot—sitting on the floor with Sedric.

I hide and listen to their "conversations," dying of jealousy and feeling completely left out. It’s like they’ve been together their whole lives. I never imagined a man like LJ could be so good with a baby.

Sedric is in that phase where he’s testing sounds and learning words.

Out of every two dozen babbles, we might understand one or two—but that doesn’t seem to bother Lazarus.

He plays along like he understands every word—and even argues with our son, who claps his tiny hands and gets even more excited by having his father's full attention.

He usually gets home late, when I’m already in bed, but I always hear the door because every cell in my body stays alert for every move he makes.

Today, though, he surprised me—he came back early.

It was the first time we really looked at each other in weeks.

Usually, I only catch him as he’s leaving.

But today, he arrived just as Sedric was getting his bath—which, by the way, is a major event.

My son loves water—but the bathtub in my room is huge, and I don’t dare leave him alone in it.

The nanny bathes him while I sit on the edge of the tub and watch. I still have four more weeks out of a total of twelve after surgery before I can return to my normal routine, including picking up my son.

The three of us are chatting animatedly when suddenly, the bathroom door opens—and LJ walks in.

Sedric’s reaction is instant. It’s like the master of the entire universe has just arrived.

My jealous side flares up, but it’s no match for my motherly instincts. Watching LJ treat my son like he’s the most precious thing on earth slowly starts to melt my heart. Sedric is not the only one who’s surrendering to this arrogant doctor.

LJ asks the nanny to leave us alone—and removing his jacket and tie, rolling up his sleeves, he takes over Sedric’s bath, chatting with him about how his day went. Strangely, my son seems to understand—and is over the moon having his dad present for such an "important" moment.

I end up crying at the scene and have to leave the bathroom before embarrassing myself.

Later, for the first time since he moved in, we have dinner together—the three of us.

LJ stares at me the whole time—and twice, I drop my fork, making Sedric burst out laughing in his high chair.

"Nervous?" Lazarus asks.

"Uh . . .”

"What kind of answer is that?"

"I meant I’m not used to you being here at dinner."

He puts down his fork too. "I’m giving you the space you asked for, Alexis."

"I . . . I don’t want that much space."

"What do you want?"

"I liked this . . . today . . . the three of us together."

He stares at me, eyes shining.

"I want more of this too," he says.

Three hours later, I’m trying to gather the courage to take a bath. Since I usually eat dinner with Sedric around five-thirty, I leave my bath for right before bed.

It’s a habit I inherited from my mother: always going to bed clean.

It’s been two weeks since I stopped needing the nurse’s help to bathe—except for struggling with shoes or getting out of my panties, but I’ve been dreaming of a long bath for days, even though I know I can’t manage getting into the tub alone yet.

I walk to the bathroom and start undressing, left only in my bra and panties, staring frustrated at the tub.

Suddenly, I hear the bedroom door open.

"Alexis, I . . .”

LJ’s voice freezes when our eyes meet—and he sees me standing there in just white lingerie.

At first, I feel embarrassed about the surgery scar—not about being half-naked in front of him.

LJ knows my body better than any man ever will.

That weekend we made love, we set records.

We christened every room in his cousin’s house.

But the shame over my imperfection doesn’t last long—because the way he looks at me, so hungry and primal, makes my knees go weak.