In some corner of my heart, I might have hoped we could experience even a sliver of the happiness her parents expressed. I’m a fool. My need to have Ligaya by my side was more important than my obligation to protect her from my family.
I failed the only person who matters.
CHAPTER 32
LIGAYA
The car ride home is silent except for the occasional tick of the turn signal. My hands rest on my belly, fingers splayed. Tristan glances at me every few seconds, but I keep my eyes on the passing buildings outside the window. I don’t want to talk about what I heard. Not yet.
Tristan’s knuckles are white for how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel of his rental.
“I didn’t know he’d say those things. I swear I didn’t think he’d be that disgusting.”
“Tristan.” My voice is gentle, but final. “Please.”
He nods, jaw tightening.
By the time we arrive at the townhouse, the air is tense with everything unsaid. I unlock the front door with a key that feels heavier than usual. Tristan follows, quietly shutting the door behind him.
I kick off my boots in the entryway, drop my coat over the back of the couch, and exhale.
“You can sit, if you want. Or pace. Whatever you need.”
He hesitates, then settles onto the edge of the couch.
“I am so sorry, Ligaya.”
“None of this is your fault. There’s no need to apologize,” I say softly, stepping closer till I’m between his knees and stroking hishair. “But I need to ask, do you see it? Do you recognize how cruel your father was toyou? How dismissive your mom is about the pregnancy? That wasn’t awkward. That was abusive.”
He shudders. “Yeah. I do. I always knew they were shit parents.” He rubs a hand over his face. “It was the way they treated you that pisses me off the most. And what he said. God, I should have punched him for it.”
I sit beside him. “No punching for my sake, please. I know who I am and what I bring. What your father thinks of me isn’t important right now.”
Tristan guides me closer, kissing my belly before splaying me on his lap. We hold each other. The need to soothe Tristan after that horrible confrontation is so powerful, my eyes burn.
“We’ll be raising kids together, Tristan. Do you think he’ll treat them that way, too?”
“I’ll never let him,” Tristan answers immediately and firmly.
He meets my gaze. “I don’t want to be like him.”
“You won’t,” I say without hesitation. “The fact that you’re worried about it means you’ll never be like him. You’ve always been the better man, even when you were a kid. You couldn’t be like him even if you tried, trust me. Trustyourself.”
His forehead touches mine. For a moment, we just breathe together.
“His face when you told him about counting his mistakes,” Tristan says with an almost smile. “Priceless.”
“Sometimes I say things and it takes a minute to catch up. You’ve been on the receiving end of that more than once.”
“You’ve got a sharp tongue, Terror, but it’s also fucking delicious.”
We kiss passionately. Our bodies entwine and our tongues sweep in a rhythm so mesmerizing, nothing else matters. I end up on my back with Tristan serving as a barrier to keep me from falling off the couch. His mouth moves to my neck and his hand grabs a heavy breast.
“How have you been? Two weeks is too long for me to be away.”
I smile. “Routines help. Want to do it with me?”
He perks up. “Yeah, totally.”
