Getting Her Back

His hand slips from my wrist to my hand, taking it gently. “I’m not excusing myself. It was the dumbest thing I’ve done in my life. All I could think in that moment was that I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I needed to not be there, torn between my dream and my worst fear. And after you left and I couldn’t talk to you, I thought it would never happen. I never thought I’d have anything even close to a second chance with you.”

I feel like I can’t breathe. This doesn’t seem real. It can’t be, can it? “You were on Heartility, and you joked about the free sex. How can I think that you actually missed me if you were on there?”

He winces. “Yeah, I was only on there because of you.”

“How did you know?”

He scratches the back of his neck, a gesture that is purely his and totally endearing. I hate that I find it endearing. “I checked up on you on social media every once in a while. I couldn’t help it. And once, when I did, you’d been commenting on articles about single motherhood, and I wondered if you’d try. It was a whim because I thought if I ever saw you on there it would be a goddamn miracle. I never wanted to get anyone else pregnant. But I thought if I found you, if I could help you with that one thing that you wanted, that maybe it would make up for some of the hurt I caused you.”

Damn it. I’m getting teary again, and I look down at the ground. “And last Friday? You left again.”

“You had made it clear that you didn’t want me,” he says. “That the only thing you wanted was a baby. That it should be detached. I didn’t think you’d want to keep going if I told you the truth, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you with anyone else.”

I look up at him, and I’m fully crying now. “I am so, so mad at you, Christian. You could have just talked to me.”

He steps forward, and touches my face, wiping away my tears with his thumb. “I know. I’m sorry. Please believe me when I say it won’t happen again.”

“You need to go now,” my mother’s voice carries across the yard as she approaches. “I don’t want you in my home. You’re scum for what you did to Audrey, and we don’t want you here. You have no right to barge in here without warning and interrupt her life again. She wants nothing to do with you.”

“Mom, stop,” I say, stepping in between her and Christian. “I have something to do with him being here. Christian has been helping me try to get pregnant. I haven’t been with a clinic. Not until recently. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was afraid that you would react this way.”

Christian puts his hand on my waist, ever so gently pulling be back against his body. I’m still furious, and we’re not done, but I appreciate the comfort.

“You let him—after everything?” My mother looks like she’s going to explode.

“I’ll explain everything,” I say. “I promise. Just give me a couple more minutes.”

She doesn’t go all the way back to the party, standing a little ways away watching us like a hawk.

I turn back to Christian. “I’m angry,” I say, “and hurt. For years I thought that you threw us away. That you didn’t want me or a family with me so you just let me go. If I had known what was happening, all this would have been different. I—” I take a breath. “I was scared too. I wanted a baby, but I needed you to want one too. To make sure I wasn’t crazy, and I never had that.” I can’t say anything else because Christian is kissing me. Hard and deep and desperate, and I lose my breath.

“Audrey,” he whispers against my lips. “I want a baby with you. I want as many babies with you as you want to have. I want you in my bed and in my home. I want you in every way there is to want someone.”

I can’t stop crying now. “Are you sure?”

He laughs, kissing me again. “I’m absolutely sure. I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you, and I’m sure as hell not going to lose you again.”

I let him kiss me, and somewhere I hear cheering. Without noticing the people at the party snuck closer to hear, and they heard his declaration. There’s happy cheering and clapping, and I turn bright with embarrassment, hiding my face in Christian’s shirt.

Celia comes up and gives us some glasses of champagne. “Congrats.” She’s smiling.

“I’m sorry we interrupted your party,” I say.

“Are you kidding?” she laughs. “That was awesome.”

Christian’s arm is around my waist, the way his fingers are gripping me makes me think he’s not going to stop for a long time. “I’m still mad at you,” I tell him softly.