“I don’t know,” he says. “I’m trying to take this one day at a time. I don’t want you to be terrified of me, and I know I did all of this. But I swear to you, I’d never hurt you again.”
“I want to believe you.”
“You will…one day, I promise. Even if it takes a year, we’ll get through this.” He leans down and brings up a manila folder from beside his seat. “This is the will and everything new that I drew up. Take your time reading it before I sign it.”
I take it from him and place it in my lap. “Okay, thank you.”
“If you see anything you’d like me to change, please let me know. Whatever you want, Emmy.”
He waves for the waiter, and we receive the check. He pays for our meal and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head that I begrudgingly allow.
“I’ll call you later? Is that okay?”
I bob my head in contradiction to what my brain is saying, which is hell no.
He asks if he can walk me to the car, and I explain that I’ll leave soon. Thankfully, he takes the hint that I need some space, and my phone buzzes a moment later.
Bishop: I’m outside. Count to seventy-two.
Emmy: Why seventy-two?
Bishop: Because it’s the number of months that I’ve been in love with you. Count them and see how long that is.
My heart swells while tears come to my eyes.
This can’t be real.
He can’t love me like he says he does because how does someone keep that a secret for so long?
But I count anyway, and I hold in the wrecked sob that wants to rock my body.
Outside, Bishop is in Kyson’s black SUV. I climb in the passenger side, just to be hauled to the side and closer to my now ex-husband.
“How did it go?” he mutters as both of his palms hold my face. He searches it for answers or secrets I may keep, but it must tell a story because he frowns. “That bad?”
“We’re…” I bite the inside of my cheek because Alexander took yet another thing from me.
What Bishop and I had was memorable and stupid, but it was ours and no one else’s. We were married in secret and kept it that way—thanks to my stupid ass—but it was just me and him.
Now Alexander fucked that up to.
“We’re, what?” Bishop presses, brushing my cheekbone with one of his thumbs.
“Not married anymore.” His brows furrow when I continue. “Alexander got into my email and filed them. I never signed them, so…use your imagination.”
“Okay,” Bishop surmises calmly. “Then we’ll get married again. I wanted us to do that anyway.”
“I didn’t want to be divorced.” My voice comes out like a whine, and Bishop smirks like an asshole.
“I mean…we have witnesses. Did you want to do it right now?”
“Witnesses—“ I look to the backseat to find two baby seats, and I practically lunge in the direction of them.
And bundled up are two beautiful babies with binkies in their mouths, sucking softly on them as they peacefully sleep.
My gaze meets Bishop’s as he watches me. “How?”
“I told Mills I’d break his fucking arms.” I narrow my eyes, and Bishop shrugs, returning his attention ahead of him.
Crawling back to my seat, I make a detour and plop my ass right into Bishop’s lap—sorta. The steering wheel is a barrier and half a cheek gets to perk itself onto his lap.
Bishop’s arm wraps around me out of habit and I smile down at him. “I wanna pony and a closet full of shoes.”
“Have you been a good girl?” He lifts a knowing brow, and we both have different definitions of what I’ve been lately.
“Depends on who you ask.”
“Well, I’m saying you’ve been bad—“ He nestles his face into the crook of my neck. “—and do you know what they get?”
I smile wickedly. “Dick.”
“No, lack of dick.” My nose wrinkles before Bishop’s tongue tastes my carotid artery. “But there’s always extra credit and good deeds that can be done to make up for it.”
“Such as?”
“Giving me what I want.” His lips softly clasp around my neck as he slowly makes out with it, sending shivers down my whole frame. “I want to take what was supposed to be mine.”
The twins.
I can’t help the immediate defeat that slams through my body. How it slumps and coils to keep from hurting anymore.
I haven’t even begun to wrack my brain on how or what I could’ve done differently in our relationship so we didn’t come to this.
I won’t do it.
I refuse because I wouldn’t stop blaming myself. We were both stubborn when we shouldn’t have been.
Fear is a powerful and petty bitch.
It’ll eat at you so much that the alternative really isn’t one anymore. It acts as a safety net, claiming that if you stay, you won’t get hurt. That you won’t suffer.
I suffered.
I hurt the ones I loved the most.
Bishop nudges me with the tip of his nose. “When you’re quiet, you freak me out.”
I adjust my body to face Bishop and see into his blue eyes. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I know that I like to be within their scope.
“You’re too good to me.”
Bishop’s forehead creases. “Do you know who I am?”
“Take me home.”
Bishop shakes his head. “Can’t, baby. Not yet.”
My nostrils flare but—fuck me, man, he’s on a roll—he’s right again.
“I kicked Mills out of his place so we could hang out alone with the kids. We got all day.”
“I’ll take it.” I give him a small smile and press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you…for everything.”
Emmy and the babies are bonded like no other, and they definitely know who she is.
We spent the day in Mill’s condo, holding, feeding, and changing diapers—I’m actually pretty decent at everything. Alaric and I connected and chilled while watching the scores on ESPN. Atlas and Emmy sang horribly and made up songs but my wife—she’s still mine in my head, I don’t give a
