Page 45 of Worth the Try (Atlanta Granite #1)
Elodie
I wake up to a glass of water and some ibuprofen on the coffee table in front of me.
Beside them is a note from Kari explaining that she’s gone to work and that we’ll tackle things when she gets home later.
Curled up at the end of the couch is Cleocatra, blinking her green eyes at me in what I can only assume is silent judgment for how drunk I got yesterday.
I shower and have some coffee, then hear a knock at the door. My breath catches when I look through the peephole and see Ansel and Rosalie.
With my heart beating wildly, I open the door, only to gape at what they each hold.
Rosie holds three different bouquets in her little arms: a dozen red roses, a dozen tulips of different colors, and then a mix of flowers.
Clutched in Ansel’s hand are three giant vellum balloons: SpongeBob SquarePants, Bluey, and a massive rainbow balloon with the words My condolences on it.
“Hi,” Ansel croaks.
“We brought you flowers and balloons because girls deserve a lot of flowers when boys mess up. And Daddy told me he messed up big-time.” Rosie offers this last tidbit with no small amount of pride.
The relief I feel at seeing Rosie is unmatched. I kneel before her, so grateful to see her sweet face that tears spring to my eyes. “They’re very pretty.”
Rosie hands them over, then launches herself into my free arm. “I missed you, Elle Belle,” she whispers.
I squeeze her tight. “I missed you, too, Rosie bug.”
Finally, Rosie lets go and leans back. “Is Cleocatra here?”
I stand and gesture inside, sniffing back my tears. “Oh, yes. She’s somewhere in there.”
Rosie dashes inside without so much as a backward glance, making Ansel and me chuckle.
“Well,” I mutter, watching her disappear around the corner, “at least she’s got her priorities straight.”
Ansel looks terrible. Much worse than yesterday, with sallow-looking skin and hair in disarray. His beautiful caramel eyes have lost their sparkle, and they gaze back at me with trepidation.
“Do you want to come in?” I ask. “I mean, I know Rosie just took off in there, but I can go get her if?—”
“I want to,” he says softly. “If you’ll have me.”
I take a deep breath. Despite the flowers and balloons, I’m still not sure what this conversation is really going to entail. “Okay.”
He follows me in, still holding the mylar balloons as they clunk against each other while we make our way to the living room. “Is Kari here?”
I shake my head as I get a good look at the balloons. “ My condolences ?”
He shrugs and gives me a shy smile. “Rosie insisted on three balloons, and since there wasn’t one that said I’m sorry , she decided that this one would work.”
“Of course she did.” I can’t help but be amused.
“I tried convincing her that Happy Birthday might be better, but.” He shrugs again. “Obviously, they’re for you. So are the flowers.” He gestures at the bunches in her hand. “Want me to take them and put them in water?”
“Um, no. Just hang on, and I’ll go do that.”
I leave him there, shifting on his feet as I go to the kitchen and find a pitcher to fill and put the bouquets in.
Ansel is winding the balloons together and trying to get them to stay put in a corner of the living room when I return. He’s sweating.
My mouth quirks up as a spark of hope flares to life inside me. “Do you need water, too?”
He hesitates, then gestures awkwardly at the couch. “No, thanks. Can we sit?”
We sit.
“I’m sorry,” he blurts. “I’m so fucking sorry, Elodie.”
I stare, unable to believe it.
“Hang on. I need—” He blinks rapidly, swaying a bit.
Jumping up, I say, “I think you do need water. Hold on.”
I’m back in moments, handing him a glass of water that he gulps down like a man on fire. When was the last time he ate? Once I’m sure he’s okay, I sit back down in front of him.
He works his jaw, seeming to wrestle with himself before finally settling on a path forward.
“This morning, I woke up at the butt-crack of dawn to tackle coach business. I emailed all the agents at once and then I emailed all the reporters at once. I’m through.
I’ve had enough of being distracted, because all it’s done is made things worse.
I don’t know that any of it could have stopped the looming custody battle, but I’m tackling one thing at a time.
This morning was rugby business. Now, my actual life gets attention.
” He pauses. “ You are my actual life, Elodie. You and Rosie.
“You are nothing I expected,” he continues.
“When we talked that first day, I had no idea—I couldn’t possibly fathom—that we’d end up like this.
” He rakes his fingers through his hair.
“Elodie, meeting you has been one of my life’s greatest joys.
You are exactly what I needed. You push me, you challenge me, you make me a better man.
You make me a better father. And I can’t imagine my life without you. ”
Oh. Oh. “Ansel,” I breathe.
He pulls my hands into his, his expression hopeful. “I was out of line yesterday. Way out of line. I’ve been under a lot of pressure, but that doesn’t excuse the way I behaved. Getting that custody summons was…fuck, that’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I bite my lip. “I just wanted to help.”
“I know.” He squeezes my hands, then brings them up to kiss them. “I’m still learning to accept help. Same as you,” he teases gently, raising a scarred eyebrow.
Can he really mean this? “I don’t know if we should…do whatever it is we’re doing. Your words yesterday?—”
“Were utter and complete crap,” he admits. “Hurtful, and untrue.”
I study him. “Maybe, but the fact is…” I stop, look away. Swallowing, I meet his gaze again. “I love that little girl so much it’s terrifying. But I’m not her mother, Ansel. I’ll never be her mother. And if Lauren?—”
“Fuck Lauren,” he growls, making me flinch at the harsh tone.
Gentler, he says, “You’ve acted more like her mother in the past months than her own ever did.
Rosie’s never had a mother, Elodie. And I’m not apologizing in some misguided attempt to get you to watch my kid.
I’m here because I love you. I love you so much that it takes my breath away.
I love you for you. Your laughter. Your heart.
I love you for the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh.
For the love on your face when you look at my daughter.
I love your freckles—seriously, I can’t get enough of those.
” He quirks a smile. “And I love that you grade Rosie’s cannonballs more harshly than I do.
I love that you’re building your business and not hesitating for one second about it.
I love how you’re learning the rules of rugby, even though you keep calling me a half-fly instead of a fly-half. ”
“That might be on purpose,” I mumble with a grin, my eyes filled with unshed tears.
“I know.” He smiles, the color back on his face.
“I love you, Elodie. So wholly and completely that it nearly paralyzes me. But you make me brave. You make me want to take the risk. And I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me for what I said, or if you can ever fathom being by my side again.
Loving me. Loving Rosalie. Being a team with us. But God, I hope you do.”
My heart swells as he speaks, my entire body heating with unbridled joy and hope.
He loves me. He still loves me. After everything.
“This is the only team I ever want to be a part of,” I say, leaning forward to cradle his face.
“I love you, too, Ansel. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.
And I’m sorry I let Lauren bait me in the bathroom?—”
He cuts me off with a kiss, a ragged breath leaving him. “Fuck, I missed this,” he breathes. “I missed you.”
“It was only twenty-four hours,” I protest softly, giggling as he keeps kissing me even as we talk.
“Twenty-four hours is too much,” he says.
I giggle, meeting those caramel irises and seeing them filled with light once more. “I love you.”
“Damn, that sounds good.” He grins and traces a finger along my bare shoulder, sending goosebumps down my body. “Say it again.”
With a smile, I happily obey. “I love you, Ansel Miles.”
“Does this mean you’re coming back home now?”
We both turn to see Rosie in the doorway, Cleocatra held precariously in her arms and sporting what can only be described as a look of resigned indignation.
We look back at each other. Ansel asks, “What do you say, Elle Belle? Are we worth the try?”
My smile is bright and sure. “Absolutely.”