our goodbyes—our final goodbyes. I said I wouldn’t see
her again, and she went on her way.”
I swallow, fear gripping my heart. “Did you kiss?”
“No!” he snorts. “I couldn’t bear to be that close to her.”
Oh. Good.
“I was miserable. I wanted to come home to you. But . . . I knew I’d beha一ved
badly. I stayed and finished the bottle, then started on the bourbon. While I
was drinking, I remember you saying to me some time ago, ‘If that was my
son . . .’ And I got to thinking about Junior and about how Elena and I started.
And it made me feel . . . uncomfortable. I’d never thought of it like that
before.”
A memory blossoms in my mind—a whispered conversation from when I was
half conscious—Christian’s voice: “But seeing her finally put it all in
perspective for me. You know . . . with the child. For the first time I felt . . .
What we did . . . it was wrong.” He’d been speaking to Grace.
“That’s it?”
“Pretty much.”
“Oh.”
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“Oh?”
“It’s over?”
“Yes. It’s been over since I laid eyes on you. I finally realized it that night and
so did she.”
“I’m sorry,” I mutter.
He frowns. “What for?”
“Being so angry the next day.”
He snorts. “Baby, I understand angry.” He pauses then sighs. “You see, Ana, I
want you to myself. I don’t want to share you. What we ha一ve, I’ve never had
before. I want to be the center of your universe, for a while at least.”
Oh, Christian. “You are. That’s not going to change.”
He gives me an indulgent, sad, resigned smile. “Ana,” he whispers.
“That’s just not true.”
Tears prick my eyes.
“How can it be?” he murmurs.
Oh no.
“Shit—don’t cry, Ana. Please, don’t cry.” He caresses my face.
“I’m sorry.” My lower lip trembles, and he brushes his thumb over it, soothing
me.
“No, Ana, no. Don’t be sorry. You’ll ha一ve someone else to love as well. And
you’re right. That’s how it should be.”
“Blip will love you, too. You’ll be the center of Blip’s—Junior’s world,” I
whisper. “Children love their parents unconditionally, Christian. That’s how
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