Page 86 of Bound Hearts

Slowly shaking my head, I can’t help but let a tiny smile go. “That’s the thing. I wouldn’t change anything. I’m in love with him already. And not just him… you too.”

Foster closes our distance and pulls me flush to his body. It’s difficult with my belly between us, and it’s a sort of angle to my hip, but it works because we’re able to wrap our arms around each other.

“Sutton, you’re everything to me.”

Taking a deep breath, I let it out more easily than I did minutes ago. “You should have told me about the fact that you need to have a baby before the end of the year.”

“I promise it wasn’t manipulative,” he says, adamant.

“But it kind of was, though. Sure, coincidences happen. We crossed paths that day, and we both got lucky. Instant lust, and it so happened we worked together, and we both loved the word casual. But most of all, it’s an odd correlation that your family is batshit crazy with dates, and I just so happened to be at a time in my life when I discovered that I was missing a piece, and it happened to be you.”

His hands cradle my face, holding me delicately but with tenacity to ensure I can’t escape. “Baby or not, I was getting addicted to you. Only you have the key to unlock the door to the world where I can breathe and let go. Before you even think it, you may have brought up the topic of marriage, but I was already about to ask. It makes zero sense to most, but you and I don’t do smooth roads.”

I bubble a laugh. “We don’t.” A carved piece of anger still sits dull in my body, and I return to my somber mood. “Despite all of it, Foster. Chance is an easy answer to avoid reality. Not everything is coincidence. We also make choices. We made a choice to get married. We made a choice to have him. And you made a choice not to tell me.”

“We still end up where we are supposed to be, though.” His thumb swipes my cheekbone, and his smile is earnest, the embers of his eyes retying our knot.

“Our hearts are bound together by sharing the connection of having this baby… he chose us to be his parents. You’re also my husband. We’re very much connected, and we can’t slip out of one another’s lives so effortlessly because it’s just not meant to be. I believe that, anyway.”

Foster lowers his mouth to mine, his thumb gliding to the corner of my mouth while his lips barely touch mine. “I love you.” He kisses the tip of my nose, then my forehead, his hand supporting the back of my head. “I won’t let anything hurt you,” he whispers against the skin of my forehead.

“I need time, Foster. This situation stings. I’m coming home and I know we’ll be okay, but I can’t pretend this hasn’t happened.”

“What do you need?”

My lips slide to the side and try to figure out the logistics in my head. “Space.”

“Okay, I’ll take the guest room.”

“Maybe that’s a good idea for a few days. No more secrets, Foster.”

“No secrets,” he confirms.

“I’m overwhelmed some days, and maybe it will take a little longer for me to wrap my head around this weekend’s events.”

“I’ll wait until you’re comfortable, but you have my trust, and I hope I have yours, too.”

Our eyes hold, and I feel more grounded than yesterday. The man before me is a man determined to prove whatever I would ask. He loves me unconditionally. I have no doubts.

“We’ll be okay,” I state.

“We’ll be more than.”

“No more missing facts, even the tiny ones.”

He nods adamantly. “You have my word. Now I’m going to get it all off my chest and leave no stone unturned.”

My eyes pinch, concerned that something else is going to be thrown at me.

Now he smirks at me. The type he gives when he is satisfied with what the other’s response will be. “I broke your trust, because last night, I opened the door to the baby’s room, and I wasn’t supposed to go in.” Relief hits me, and I swat him for that brief moment of returned panic. “It was a rough night. I needed some sign of hope. My wife truly is special. It’s all perfect.”

It’s the least of our worries this weekend. He manages to pull a tiny smile from me. I’m pleased he loves it. Shrugging, I try to brush off my efforts. “I remembered you mentioned the days when you were younger and built models with your dad. Thought they would be nice in the nursery.”

He swipes my hair behind my shoulders, and he has me captivated through his firm gaze and wry smile. “It’s special, Sutton. I love it.”

That makes me happy. Despite this weekend and complete misstep, he does so much for me. Supports me, and even though I have my own career and money, he is a provider. Plus, our son should have a special moment with his father. “Good.”

“And full disclosure. I’ve been desperate and figured that every tiny thing that would help this weekend, I would do. With a whiskey glass nearby, I washed all of the clothes in the baby’s room, folded them, and put them away.”