Page 123 of Embracing the Beat
The expression on his face when he says the word Daddy creates a warmth in my chest that I haven’t felt in months.
“Thank you,” I whisper, trying not to cry. Clearing my throat, I motion to the couch. “Should we sit?”
“One more.”
He hands me a small, folded onesie. Unlike the bear, I can tell this is new given the bright white of the soft cotton. My heart catches in my throat when I unfold it.
Daddy’s Little Historian.
“West.”
I want to say so much more, but tears fill my eyes, ready to fall if I open my mouth.
I sit, still clutching the fabric in my lap, and he sits next to me. I take several deep breaths and clear the unshed tears. His thoughtful presents speak for themselves. They tell me how he feels about this baby, but I have questions.
“Why are you in LA?” I finally ask at the same time he speaks.
“I’m glad you said yes.”
We smile awkwardly at each other, and he motions for me to continue.
“Sorry, go ahead,” he tells me.
“What brings you to LA? Shouldn’t you be wrapping up the semester?”
“I, uh, I quit my job. Well, actually I first got offered the department head position, but I turned that down, and then I quit. I’ve been here for about a week, searching for a new job.”
“Here?” Something else he said registers. “You quit your job? I thought you loved it.”
“I do. And I love Philadelphia. But you need to be here. And I want to be where you are. I would have been here sooner, but it took my department head a while to locate a long-term substitute.”
“Sooner?” I repeat, the butterflies flapping like mad in my stomach.
He puts down his bottle of water and takes mine, too. His fingers shake as he reaches forward, stretching to wrap them around mine. I suck in a breath, not sure how to process the emotions causing the butterflies to get seriously pissed off. Hurt, hope, anger. They’re all crashing over me like waves, one right after another, pulling me under, and I’m not sure which one should win out.
“I’m an idiot. I’m the world’s biggest asshole, and if I could spend a thousand lifetimes apologizing for the horrible way I behaved that day, it still wouldn’t be enough, but I would try.”
I can’t control the tears that cascade down my cheeks as memories come back. I tried to push them down, to move forward, but they still have the power to slice like thousands of paper cuts.
“Baby,” he whispers, wiping my cheeks with his thumbs. “God, I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to cry.”
“I’m pregnant,” I remind him. “I cry a lot.”
The smile he gives me is bittersweet. “Which is why you don’t need me making you cry more.”
I shrug and hiccup, swiping one hand across my cheeks.
“Well, you did,” I tell him. “And I don’t understand why. Why you said all that stuff to me about…about…”
The words lodge in my throat, refusing to be repeated.
“There’s no excuse for what I did. None. I let my imagination run wild when I saw that picture, and seeing the test, it brought everything back. Everything I went through with Ashley and all the red flags I should have caught. I was so excited when she told me she was pregnant. I was ready to start a family she seemed less than enthusiastic about.”
“I’m not Ashley,” I say, pulling my other hand away. “And it wasn’t fair for you to treat me like I was.”
He dislodges the beanie covering his hair, scraping his fingers through the thick strands. “I know. And I’ve been in hell since I realized that. I hate myself—hate—what I said. How I acted. I’ve thought a million times about how that day could have been so different. How I wish it was.”
“You can’t change the past.”
