Bea was the first to break the silence. And she did it with blunt honesty.
“I still don’t want children.”
I slipped my glasses back on, her face returning to me in sharp clarity. “Okay.”
“But I love your kids.” Her nose crinkled. “Children aren’t my thing in general, but those three…well, they’ve sort of forced themselves into my heart.”
I chuckled, though I wasn’t sure which direction we were headed. “They have that way about them.”
She took my hands in hers, her gaze level on mine. “You have to understand, I will never give birth. That isn’t negotiable. I will love your kids—I mean, I already do—but I can’t give you babies. This is a hard limit.”
I shook my head. “I have three kids. It’s already an embarrassment of riches. How could I possibly want more?”
Shehuffed, as though my easy agreement frustrated her. “Are you saying you don’t have the urge to spread your seed far and wide?”
I barked a laugh. “No. I can say I have never had that urge. Is that…a thing other men feel?”
“For my mom’s husband, certainly.” She dragged in a long breath. “I’ve done the whole sleepless nights, diaper changes, teething, fevers, feeling like I’ll never be alone again. I know, without a doubt, I don’t want that.”
“Okay.”
Her brows shot up. “That’s it? You don’t have any questions?”
“No. If you’d told me youdidwant a baby, I’d have to put serious thought into it and how it would impact my kids. Telling me you don’t? That’s easy.” I brought her hand to my mouth, rubbing my lips along her soft knuckles. “We spoke about this when we first met. I understand where you’re coming from. It’s a nonissue.”
Her shoulders curled forward as the fight left her. “I’m still scared.”
“I’ve given you a lot of reasons to doubt me. Not purposely, but that doesn’t make it better.”
I let go of her hand to cradle her face. I’d kissed most of her makeup off. All that was left were dark smudges of mascara beneath her deep-blue eyes, and she’d never looked lovelier.
“It doesn’t,” she agreed.
“I’m sorry for that.” I touched my lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry, blue. In my head, I had a list of steps that had to happen before I told you about the kids and wouldn’t allow myself to deviate from it. That you would feel betrayed had never entered my mind. Not until after the fact. I see how shortsighted that was, and yes, manipulative. At thetime, though, I’d been too focused on keeping you to see beyond that.”
She leaned into me, her breath feathering against my skin as she sighed. “You think differently than I do. I know that, and I love the way your mind works. But lying, even of omission, has to be off the table. You can’t keep things from me, big or small. I won’t feel safe with you if I’m always worried about what you’re hiding.”
“I know what it is to have you and lose you.” I closed my eyes, dropping my forehead to hers. “I will not jeopardize this ever again. The last two weeks have been brutal. A lifetime without you is unacceptable.”
“A lifetime?” she breathed.
“I don’t make moves without thoroughly thinking them through. I see a future with you, Beatrice. I think we fit. Not just you and me, but all of us. If you allow it, I would like to open my life to you so you can see for yourself there’s an empty spot shaped just like you.”
Her palms slid up my chest and shoulders, stopping at the sides of my neck. “If we don’t work out, I’ll lose more than just you. I’ve already lost my siblings, Salvatore. I don’t know if—”
“We’ll work out.”
“You can’t be sure.”
“I can.” I pulled back to meet her gaze. “Do you know the first time I drove by you, it was purely by chance? You were crossing the street, and we were stopped at a red light. I was trapped in a thick fog of grief, but Isawyou. Two bike messengers crashed into each other while waving at you, and you stopped to help them. I rolled down my window to hear them apologizing toyoueven though you were perfectly fine. Do you remember that?”
Hercheeks flushed, and she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Well, I…things like that happen a lot. My mother always told me I was a magnet for the strange and unusual. Things tend to…erupt around me.”
My shoulders shook as I laughed. Of course that was her answer. I’d been called strange plenty of times in my life, so why wouldn’t she have drawn me in?
“Bea…” I shook my head, chuckling. This woman was a pure delight. “It doesn’t matter if you remember. I do. That day, the fog lifted for the first time since Tia had died. I went home, finished the app I’d been tinkering with in my downtime for ages, then sent it to you because I couldn’t not.”
“And you followed me.”
