I hand her to Chris just as the conference room door opens. I close my eyes and press my fingers into my eyelids so I can’t see as Lynette and Brian take her from Chris. As soon as I feel Chris’s hand on my back I turn into him and bury my face in his shoulder.

“It hurts so much.”

He wraps his arms around me and rubs my back. “I know, but I wouldn’t trade this pain for what I was feeling an hour ago. Not any day.”

I nod in agreement. I don’t know how long we stand there holding each other. It could be ten minutes, an hour, or a day. All I know is that when I finally let go, I can breathe. I can rest. I can live knowing that my baby girl is happy. Knowing that she felt my love.

“You ready to go?” he asks.

I can only imagine how horrible I look. Without even looking in a mirror, I can feel my face is puffy and all my makeup is smeared on his collar. I nod and he kisses my forehead before he lets me go. He begins to pull away from me, but I clutch the front of his coat desperately.

“Chris?”

He looks me straight in the eye as if he knows what I’m about to say. “Yes?”

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I love you.”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head as he lets out a breath he must have been holding for the past six weeks. He opens his eyes again and his gaze slides over my face, taking me in.

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispers, his voice tender and full of relief. “Let’s go home.”

By the time we’re sitting in the car, my certainty and resolve have solidified. I love Chris. I always have and I always will. All the memories we shared and the plans we made come rushing back to me as he pulls out of the parking lot. I think of the day we lay on the grass in Moore Square two years ago. We promised to love each other forever. Little did we know this was a promise we couldn’t break, even if we tried.

I think of the plans we made to grow old together. I was supposed to tour the world with him until we turned thirty. Then we were going to move out to the country and have at least three kids.

I close my eyes and imagine us, lying on the grass the way we did in Moore Square, but with our children lying next to us, the sun warming our skin and love melting our hearts. Maybe it’s a stupid dream. Maybe it will never happen. The important thing is that I want it. I never stopped wanting it. I open my eyes and I know I have to speak the words I’m thinking; the words I should have spoken months ago.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not giving up on me or Abigail. I gave up after that visit in the hospital, but you never gave up.” I take his hand in mine and squeeze. “I’m sorry I blamed you for not being there after I pushed you away. And, most of all, I’m sorry that I made you feel responsible for the mistakes I’ve made. I know you’ve done nothing but love me and forgive me and I repaid you by pushing you away again and again. I even tried to blame you for not knowing I needed you—like you were psychic. I was stupid. I’m so sorry.”

He’s silent as he focuses on the road ahead of us. Then, he turns quickly into an empty parking lot on our right and parks beneath the umbrage of an overgrown elm tree. He leaves the car on as he turns to me, his expression so serious I’m almost afraid of what he’ll say.

“Claire, you only did what you thought you had to do to survive. And I know you, possibly better than I know myself. I knew you’d come around. I knew you’d stop blaming me. But, more importantly, I know you’re going to stop blaming yourself. You need to forgive yourself more than you need my forgiveness.”

I nod as he brings my hand to his mouth and plants a soft kiss on my knuckles. He pulls my hand away from his lips and the smile on his face makes my heart flutter. Pulling his hand toward me, I lay it on my chest. We lock eyes and I feel the dark night pressing in on us, pushing us, whispering in my ear that everything is going to be okay.

I have Chris. He’s the only person strong enough to carry me. Chris is my rock. Always has been and always will be.

His gaze is ravenous as it falls on my lips, his chest heaving. Sliding my hand down, I unbuckle my seatbelt as he grabs the front of my dress in his fist and pulls me across the console. Our mouths crash into each other with cataclysmic force. I clutch his hair as I climb onto his lap. He grabs my face and tilts my head back so he can look at me.

“Do you finally understand how much I love you? That there is nothing I won’t do for you?” I nod as I hastily lean in to taste him again, but he holds my face firmly. “Slow down, babe,” he murmurs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He slowly pulls my face to his and I close my eyes as I wait patiently for his lips to find me. His mouth lands softly over mine and I tilt my head as I breathe in his scent and his presence. His tongue parts my lips and dips into my mouth and every nerve in my body pulses with my need for him.

He traces his tongue along my bottom lip and a soft whimper sounds in my throat. Then he plunges his tongue into my mouth again and, with every taste of his lips and every stroke of his tongue, I become more and more lost. His hands slide under my dress, caressing my thighs, and I lean my head back as he places his warm lips to my throat. His arms pull me tighter against him as he nips my neck with his teeth.

His fingers slide further up the back of my dress to unhook my bra.

Hastily, I peel off my blazer and dress then toss them, along with my bra, onto the passenger seat. He stares at my breasts for a moment before his fingers whisper over my ribs and he cups my breast in his hand. He bows his head and his eyes are locked on my face as his tongue traces a light circle around my nipple.

I slowly begin to unknot his tie. “You look so good in this suit.”

His hand slides into my panties, but his gaze burns into me as he watches my face to see my reaction. He caresses me gently as I slowly pull off his tie.

“Is this mine?” he asks as I grind my hips with the rhythm of his fingers.

“Yes.”

I reach for the button on his pants and he shakes his head as he pushes my hands away. “We’re not having sex here. I just want to watch you come.”

He eases his fingers inside me as his other hand grabs the back of my neck and pulls my head forward. He kisses me slowly as I rock my hips back and forth. His fingers slide out of me, scooping out my wetness, and I kiss him hungrily as he strokes my clit.

“Oh, Chris,” I moan, and I wrap my arms tightly around his neck as my body begins to tremble.

“Who do you belong to?” he growls as he kisses my neck.

“You,” I breathe, a searing heat building inside me. “I belong to you.”

The orgasm comes suddenly and hard and I bite down on his collar, which still tastes like my tears.

“You’ll always belong to me,” he insists. “I love you, babe, but don’t you ever put me through what you put me through these past three months.”

Taking his face in my hands, I kiss him as he slides his hand out of my panties. Without breaking contact with my lips, he grabs my blazer off the passenger seat and drapes it over my shoulders. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulls me tightly against his chest. I hold his face firmly as I attempt to show him with this kiss that he will never have to worry about losing me again.

Chapter Eleven

Adam

This is the second time I’ve had to have a difficult conversation with Claire in the past two months. The kind of conversation that could break us, for good, and my stomach is in knots as I stare at my phone. I go over what needs to be said, overthinking my words and rethinking my priorities. I’ve seen Claire three times in the past two months, and I’d be lying if I said I still feel the same passion for Claire that I felt five weeks ago when I surprised her at Cora’s apartment.

I look back on the time I spent with Claire and I’m stunned at how much love we were able to pack into an eight-week relationship. There is no question that I love Claire, but I don’t see us surviving all the obstacles we’ve encountered. I have to go to Australia in March. I’m not giving up surfing again. And I have three competitions between now and March, all of which I’ll have to travel overseas for. Claire needs someone who refuses to leave her.

I asked her last week if Chris was going back on tour and she said he’d rescheduled the tour for the summer. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he did it for her. I feel like an idiot for not seeing this coming. I’ve been so obsessively focused on getting Claire back; I never stopped to think about what was going on in her life. I never stopped to think about her needs.

Just sitting here in my apartment thinking about this makes me sick to my stomach as I realize I’m about to do to Claire what she did to Chris last year.

I dial her number and my heart pounds harder with every ring. She finally answers just as I’m about to hang up.

“Adam.”

Hearing her say my name, not as a question but as a statement, makes me nervous. Like she has something she wants to tell me and she’s been waiting for me to call.

“Claire, can you talk?”

It’s Tuesday, the day after she was supposed to see Abigail, so I know she just got out of class an hour ago. Sometimes, she’ll ask me to call her back later because she’s studying, but something tells me that she’s not going to do that today.

“Yeah, I’m actually just walking down the path toward your apartment. What number are you in? 14?”

Fuck!

“You’re here?”

My eyes dart toward the corner of the living room, right next to my drafting table, where Lindsay is crouched on the floor, unbuckling Kaia from her car seat. I promised Lindsay I’d watch Kaia today while she goes on a job interview. I’ve never actually babysat an infant, but the idea of Lindsay leaving Kaia with a babysitting service or a neighbor filled me with all sorts of conflicted feelings—mainly fear.

“Just stay where you are and I’ll meet you outside,” I blurt into the phone as I leap over the coffee table and rush toward the front door.

“I’m already here,” Claire says as the doorbell rings.

Lindsay looks back at me over her shoulder as she scoops Kaia out of the car seat. “Who’s that?”

In the span of about one second, multiple scenarios play out in my mind. I can meet Claire outside the apartment and talk to her there, but it’s raining so that would seem very odd. I can ask Lindsay to hide in my bedroom, but that would be even more awkward since she’s leaving for her job interview in a few minutes. I guess I’ll have to introduce Claire and Lindsay to each other and hope for the best.

“It’s Claire,” I say as I reach for the doorknob.

Opening the door, the sight of Claire makes my stomach twist. She’s dressed in a beautiful blue dress, some tights, and knee-high brown boots. She’s shaking out her black umbrella and all I can think of is how I was once Claire’s umbrella, her shelter from the storm. But, once again, I’m about to become the rain.

She looks up from her umbrella, but she doesn’t smile. “Do you have a minute?”

I want to say, “For you, I have infinite minutes,” but that would be weird with Lindsay standing just a few feet behind me.

“Yeah, of course. You didn’t tell me you were coming over,” I say as I open the door wider for her to come in.

As soon as she steps over the threshold, bringing with her the smell of rain and soft perfume, she and Lindsay see each other. I hold my breath as I wait for one of them to say something.

Lindsay is dressed in a pencil skirt and a blazer—interview clothes—as she cradles six-week old Kaia. I can only imagine what this must look like to Claire who still knows nothing about the paternity scare in Hawaii.

“Lindsay, this is Claire. Claire this is Lindsay… and Kaia.”

I try not to sound nervous, but that’s pretty much impossible right now.