He broke that.
And for what?
I still didn’t get it.
“Why?”
I didn’t realize I had said it out loud until Thatch hit “Mute” on the remote and grabbed me by the hands.
“Sometimes people do stupid things, make the wrong choice out of boredom, revenge, pride.” He shrugged. “You may never know why, and I know that kills you, because when I broke us—” I opened my mouth to correct him, but he shook his head. “When I broke us, I didn’t tell you why—I thought I was protecting you, now I know the truth. You may never know the truth about my mom and your dad, but know this—you won’t ever be cheated on again.”
Tears welled in my eyes. “I know.”
“I’m serious, Austin.” His grip was firm, solid on my fingertips. “I will never cheat on you. I want this relationship to be one of communication, I want a real family. I want love.”
“Me too.” I nodded. “And I promise, I won’t ever cheat on you.”
He sighed.
“Unless cheating means I can beat you at board games, or if we race and I trip you beforehand, or if I cheat with calories on a non-cheat day, or—”
He kissed me.
I giggled against his solid chest.
“I love you,” he murmured, “and I always will.”
“Good, because you’re stuck with us.”
“Thank God,” he whispered reverently before kissing me again. And then once again, helping me remember why we were so good together. Because our love was shared equally, because it wasn’t about obsession, or even lust, but about that very real thing that was shared between two people who got it. Who understood the sacrifice it took for something to work—and were willing to make it.
We were cheated.
But we weren’t cheaters.
And it felt good to say it.
Epilogue
AUSTIN
“You’re doing so well.” My father-in-law winked at me and moved around the bed to grab my hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, you know.” I clenched my teeth. “Like I’m giving birth to a ten-pound gorilla, but other than that, splendid. Hey, where are we on those drugs?”
He grinned, and his expression reminded me so much of Thatch.
Over the past few months, father and son had mended their relationship so much that we had family dinner nights, and he’d even paid off every cent of Thatch’s student loans so we could start fresh. The divorce settlement had gone through, and the very first thing his father wanted to do with his money was take care of us.
Thatch said no.
But his father said it was necessary, and said if we didn’t take the money, he’d just set up a trust fund for the little boy we were about to have.
So Thatch took it, and later that night, cried in my arms.
Three hundred and fifty thousand dollars’ worth of loans.
Gone.
Forgiven.
Funny how the minute he was able to forgive both his mom and dad—his dad was able to forgive himself.
“Ahhhh!” I shrieked as my belly tightened and a giant invisible vise squeezed me like a tube of toothpaste. “This isn’t natural!”
Thatch was calm.
He would be calm.
Weren’t dads supposed to pass out?
“STOP BEING SUCH A DOCTOR!” I snapped at him when he was ducking his head under the sheet and discussing God-knew-what about places that should never be discussed or looked at by a father-in-law and sexy husband!
“The drugs are here!” Avery announced.
Lucas chose to wait in the waiting room.
Smart man.
Avery held out a MoonPie. “You can have this once you push super hard.”
“I hate you, I hate you so much.”
She dangled the MoonPie in front of me.
“No solids!” The elder Dr. Holloway wagged his finger at me.
I flipped him off in response.
Thatch burst out laughing. “You okay, baby?”
“You’re never touching me again. I’m joining a nunnery, how’s that for okay?”
“You’re just in a lot of pain.”
He nodded toward the door as another man in scrubs walked in and said, “Someone need an epidural?”
“ME! Yes! I volunteer!” I shouted as Avery, watching me, winced when another contraction hit.
I reached for her hand and grabbed the MoonPie by accident, smashing it into tiny bits before dropping it on the floor.
“No! My MoonPie!”
“I have more.” Avery patted my shoulder. “So, you good here? I think I’m just going to go . . . back to my husband and . . . pray . . . for you! Not for me. I’m fine.”
She wasn’t fine. She was twelve weeks pregnant.
“This is your future!” I yelled after her.
“Austin,” Thatch snapped. “Is that really necessary?”
“Oh, I don’t know, is THIS necessary!” I pointed at my belly and made a face.
He smirked. “I love it when you’re feisty.”
“Get it out!” I said with a snarl. “It hurts.”
“Drugs.” Thatch kissed my forehead, my utter weakness, and then nodded to a doctor who looked too young to be holding a needle so big.
“Hi, Austin. My name’s Ben. I’m going to make this feel like a cake walk, alright?”
I sniffled. “I really like cake.”
“Great.” He winked. “Now, turn on your side and grab your knees and hold still. The minute your next contraction hits, I want you to take a few deep breaths, and once it ends, I’m going to put in the epidural.
“Okay? You’ll feel a slight sharp pain and then some pressure and we’ll be all done. You can’t move though.”
I nodded. I was sweating and freaking out. I hated needles.
Thatch was immediately on the other side of the bed. “Let’s just fight through this next one together, alright?”
I couldn’t speak; the contractions were getting worse. I clenched my eyes shut and waited for the torture to end.
And then I heard Ben’s voice. “That was a big one. Alright, let’s go.”
I tried not to tense, but like I said, the needle was huge and it was getting placed in my spine, of all places. Already woozy, I waited for my legs to go numb and was pleasantly surprised when the pain started to dissipate and, within five minutes, went away altogether.
“It’s a miracle!” I could talk and function like a normal human being. “What’s in that thing?”
“Fentanyl,” Tha
tch answered with a smirk. “There’s no chance in hell you should feel any pain, and if you do, just click this handy little button but not too often, ’kay?”
He handed me a magic button.
And suddenly I felt powerful again.
And like myself.
“I’m going to rock this.” I nodded.
Thatch rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I think it’s safe to say she’s got drugs in her system, since a few minutes ago she was flipping everyone off.”
His dad smiled, and they started chatting about the football game while I was busy trying to figure out why the little guy hadn’t decided to make an appearance yet.
A half hour went by.
And then a full hour.
I was restless, reading a magazine, when Thatch’s dad checked me again and smiled. “You ready?”
I knew everyone was restless, and eager to see the baby. My mom was in the waiting room with everyone else, most likely pacing away the carpet.
“YES!” I threw the magazine on the floor and waited. “Do I push now or—”
“Patience.” He chuckled. “We don’t want to stress the baby.” He glanced at the monitor. “At the height of each contraction, I want you to grab behind your knees and use that to help you push from your stomach, alright?”
I nodded.
And during the next contraction, I pushed as hard as I could.
Thatch was on the right side of the sheet, holding my hand and squeezing with each push.
“Two more and I think we got it. You’re born to do this, Austin.”
“I am,” I said more to reassure myself. “I am. I’ve got this.”
“Love you.” Thatch squeezed my hand tighter as I pushed again.
“I see baby’s head,” Dr. Holloway said hoarsely. “One more, honey.”
I pushed again.
And then all the pressure was gone.
And a warm, wailing, tiny, wrinkly little thing was placed on my chest.
I burst into tears.
Thatch was already there, helping the nurse clean up the little guy while his dad did whatever he was supposed to be doing down there.
“This is going to hurt a bit.” He looked up. “We need to get all the fluids out along with the embryonic sac. You ready?”
I nodded and held my baby tight while he pushed down on my stomach. I was seriously going to puke if he didn’t stop soon.