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“Let’s try dry toast. The last couple mornings have been a little rough.”

“I had the same thing with you. It will be over soon, hopefully.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I say as she picks up my dishes.

“For what?”

“For not making me feel any worse than I already do. Loneliness is the worst feeling, and I was scared how you would react,” I admit.

“If there is one thing I never want you to forget, it’s that I’ll always be there. Always. Don’t you ever question that.”

I follow her in the kitchen, waiting for her to set the dishes in the sink before wrapping my arms tightly around her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now get some sleep.”

It’s been months since I’ve been in my old room, and it hasn’t changed one bit. It has the same white four-poster bed. Same white comforter and pale yellow walls. After pulling on one of my old sleep shirts, I find a toothbrush and everything else I need in my bathroom. Within minutes, I’m tucked under the covers and drifting off to sleep.

I hear pounding, but ignore it, tossing to my other side. Dad’s always had this thing about getting up before the sun rises and tinkering in the garage.

Two more pounds then it stops. I drift off yet again.

A hand rests on my hip, shaking me carefully. “Lila! Lila!” My dad yells—at least it sounds like he’s yelling.

I rub my eyes and look to the alarm clock. It’s only 4:15. “What is it?”

“There’s a guy here to see you. I told him to get his ass out of here, but he won’t listen.”

“Who?” I ask, sitting up.

“I don’t know. Do you want to come down and see or should I tell him to get the hell off my property?” he asks. My dad has always been my shield.

“I’ll go, Daddy. Why don’t you go back to bed?” It can only be one of two men; I can handle both.

He lifts his finger. I can barely see him in the darkness. “I’m coming with you until I know you’re okay. This guy looks a little worse for wear.”

Without another word, I follow him down the steps to the foyer. His back is to me, but I know it’s him right away. “Blake,” I whisper, trying not to make him jump.

He spins around immediately. His hair is mussed. His shirt is wrinkled. And I’ve seen those circles around his eyes before; he hasn’t slept in a couple days.

“You can go to bed now, Daddy.”

“You sure?” he whispers near my ear.

I nod, never taking my eyes off Blake.

“If you need anything, come get me,” he says before he walks back up the stairs.

Blake walks toward me slowly. His hands come up when he’s close enough to touch me, but they fall back down to his sides. “I need to talk to you.”

“How did you get here?”

“I drove.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

He buries his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t remember.”

Even with the anger and frustration I have with him, my heart easily overrides it all … for now anyway. When you know what I know about him—his past and how great he can be—it puts the negatives through a heavy strain. Especially when I see him like this.

I take his hand in mine. He responds, his whole face relaxing. I could throw him a pillow and show him the couch, but I lead him to my room, closing the door tightly behind us.

“Do you need something to sleep in?” I ask, shuffling things around in my drawer. Derek left his things here a time or two.

I look back when he doesn’t answer, and he’s already stripped down to his boxer briefs. “I’m good.”

“There’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom,” I say pointing toward it.

He comes to me like a lion on the prowl, holding my face in his hands. “I need to talk to you. Everything else can wait until later.”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. “Can we at least lay in the bed? I’m so tired.”

His grip on me loosens, and he takes my hand to lead me to the bed. I crawl into one side. He takes the other. I lie on my back. He towers over me, holding his head up. “Why didn’t you come home?” he asks.

“I’m tired of you running. I’m not doing this anymore.”

“Who ran this time?” he asks.

“It’s not running if I don’t have anything to run from.”

“You have me,” he answers, brushing the pad of his thumb across my cheek.

“I’ve never had you, Blake. You come and go … you never stay long enough for me to consider you mine.” My voice reflects the sadness my heart feels. It’s hard when you love someone, but you don’t feel it back.

His hand lays flat on my stomach, and my whole body tenses. “When you said you were pregnant the other night, I panicked. I shouldn’t have left, but I didn’t know what else to do. I’m so used to being alone that sometimes that’s the only way I know how to be.”

“You can’t run out every time things get hard. I know you’ve had some bad times—really bad times, but that can’t be your excuse forever. We all get dealt shit Blake, but that doesn’t mean it has to ruin the rest of your life.”

“When you get back to Chicago, there’s something I want to show you. Something I’ve never shown anyone.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“I’d rather show you.”

There’s a few seconds of silence. Warm tears roll down my cheeks. “I don’t want to do this alone,” I admit.

He rolls on top of me, looking straight into my eyes. It’s dark, but I see the way they glisten. “I want this baby—our baby. I drove over seven hours just to tell you that.”

“And what does that mean for us?” I ask as he wipes away my tears with the pad of his thumb.

He leans down to kiss me, tugging at my lower lip. “I want to be with you. I’ve wanted you since the first time I kissed you against the wall in our apartment … probably even before that.”

He kisses me again, lingering longer this time. “And every time I kiss you, I fall for you a little more.”

Another kiss. “Every time I look at you, I see how good things could be. You’re my hope. I’ve just had a hard time convincing myself I deserve you.”

My shirt slides up over my hips, baring my stomach. He stares down into my eyes before moving down, showering my stomach with butterfly kisses.

Last night, I would have said this will never happen again, but he’s too good. His words melt me, and I want to believe them. Every. Single. One. Of. Them.

When he pulls my panties down, I don’t stop him. He needs me. I need him just as much.

He comes back up, paving a trail from my stomach to my chest then up my throat back to my lips. “I’ve been wrong about so many things. I’ve lied to myself, but that stops now.”

He’s at my entrance, teasing me. “Blake,” I beg, ready for him.

“There was one other thing I wanted to tell you.” He gives me an inch, but I need so much more.

“Blake.”

“I—” Another inch.

“Love—” Just a little more.

“You—” He pushes in, filling me completely.

I wrap my arms around his neck as fresh tears roll down my cheeks. It’s a moment I thought would never happen.

“I love you,” I cry, wrapping my legs around him. He rocks in and out of me slowly. I’ve never felt more connected to anyone … any moment.

The best part is we stay like that—same rhythm—the whole way through. If he said I love you once, he said it ten times. That’s how I know this time is different.

I come. He follows, pressing his lips to my neck. The sun peeks through the curtains as he holds me close, letting our hearts return to their normal beat.

“I’m never leaving you again,” he whispers in my ear right before I fall back to sleep.

THE SMELL OF BACON AND eggs wakes me up. Blake’s arms aren’t wrapped around me, and the bed is cold. It reminds me of so many other mornings, yet it’s different.