“I got this made a long time ago.” He opens the box, revealing a beautiful diamond ring. Taking it out of the box, he takes my hand and puts the ring in my palm. “Look inside.”
Hands shaking, I tilt the ring and see the engraving.
‘Natalie Wilder.’
Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it!
It’s like he’s ripping my heart open, forcing his way inside. I knew about the ring. His mother mentioned it, but I had myself convinced it wasn’t so, that she was wrong.
“I’m not proposing to you.” He sounds amused. “Don’tworry. Not yet. This ring will go on your finger, but only once you’re ready.”
“I knew,” I admit.
He raises a brow in question.
“About the ring. Your mother told me. I just didn’t—I didn’t want to believe her. Just like I didn’t want to believe that this mattered that much to you.” I reach into his jacket and withdraw the scrunchie. “Just like I have tried, over and over, to convince myself that all the gestures you do, everything, it’s just—that I’m reading too much into it. Even when I promised myself I’d try, I guess it was a hollow promise.”
My voice quivers, and I try to steady it.
“I know you need time, Natalie?—”
“I have had the time.” I swallow. “I know. I know you love me. And the reason I’ve been running all this time is because I know how I feel about you. Admitting it to myself made me feel vulnerable. It was so much easier to push you away, to pretend it was just an act.”
My eyes are wet when I look up at him. “I don’t want you to leave, Ethan. I don’t think my heart would survive you leaving.”
His eyes fill with emotion, and he pulls me into his arms. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His breath is hot against my ear.
“Never. You’ll never escape me again.”
Relief spreads to the farthest corners of my soul at his words. To be loved like this, to be wanted like this…
I bury my face in his neck, wishing I could stop crying, wishing he could hold me like this forever.
But my heart is overflowing, and for the first time in a very long time, I feel safe and loved.
CHAPTER 22
ETHAN
I lean backin my chair, the weight of silence pressing down as the city lights flicker beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office. It’s past seven, but Jake’s lounging on the leather sofa, his legs crossed at the ankle as he skims through one of the parenting books. “Never thought you’d ever have this on your reading list. Oh!” His eyes widen. “It has pictures!”
He rotates the book, delighted as he turns a page. “It has a step-by-step on how to change a diaper. Aren’t you and Natalie going to take some of those classes on parenting? I heard there’s one near your building. They show you what to do when a baby has gas and how to swaddle and all that shit. I even picked up pamphlets. They’re in my office.”
“Classes?” I ponder over the idea.
“I can go with her, if you can’t.” Jake looks like he’s over the moon. “As the godfather, I should know all these things.”
“You’re not the godfather.”
“Of course I am.” My twin flips through the pages. “Who else are you going to choose? I even got a customized shirt that says ‘Godfather.’ I plan to wear it to the hospital.” He looks up, beaming. “You know, so that there’s no confusion.”
He frowns thoughtfully. “Should I be in the delivery room? No, no, that’s probably too much. I should just?—”
“Keep talking, and you’ll never see my kid.”
Jake ignores me. “Maybe I should get the kid a shirt, too, with my name on the back. ‘Uncle Jake.’ No, ‘Godfather Jake.’ No! ‘The Godfather!’”
