Page 134 of Mommy

How much I actually want her. And not just in a having kind of way, but in a deserving one.

I want to earn every sniggering laugh and giggle, and I want to be worthy of every kiss she grants me. Shit, I’d move heaven and earth to be worth her love one day.

“You’re welcome.”

Ask her.

“Do you… maybe want to stick around this time? For real?” My heart is in my fucking throat, beating against my vocal cords hard enough to make me sound chocked, but I force the words over my lips.

Just playing pretend won’t cut it for me, not this time. I need an answer to that question and I know I won’t get it if I don’t ask her.

“That depends …” Ivory’s gaze dips to the floor to her feet, her blond hair falling like a sheet into her face, framing her beautiful features. When she speaks, her voice is a whisper, a shuddering breeze in the air around me. “Do you still want that baby?”

My chest expands with a large gulp of air, and I have to swallow to keep my voice at bay. The pure thought of a child has my heart exhilarating, my entire body still lighting up at the chance.

But it’s just that, a chance. And it’s one I know I don’t yet deserve. Swallowing once more I shake my head slowly.

“No. I just want you.”

If she doesn’t want a child because she is too scared to lose it, I’ll have none either.

Silence stretches out, and I can see Ivy’s shoulders shake as if she’s crying.

When she looks up at me there really are tears in her gaze, they line the baby blue of her eyes and cling to her lashes for dear life.

“Then I don’t.”

What?

She doesn’t want a real relationship? She doesn’t want this? Me? Why?

“But— Ivy, please. If you don’t want kids that’s fine, I don’t need them. Please. Please, I just want you, that’s all, I⁠—”

“But you can’t have me without them.”

What the fuck?

“The hell I can’t, I⁠—”

Them.

Very slowly I register her words. They sink into my brain and take root.

“You—”

I can only stare at her, eyes wide and following her silhouette. The small frame and rounding hips.

She nods and I don’t care that my knees hurt under the impact when they hit the floor at her feet. My arms wrap around her thighs and I lean my head against her torso, nose brushing just above her belly button. There’s no bump yet, nothing that would suggest what she just implied.

I still press my lips against her lower abdomen. I might not yet deserve the family she’s dropping into my lap, but I’ll make damn sure I do in 9 months.

I’ve been working out my entire life for this, for the moment where I can shoulder the weight of the world. And it won’t be for her, it’ll be her.

Ivory is my world now, all of it. Her feet won’t be touching the floor again if I can help it. I’ll carry her on my shoulders, her and the baby she mentioned.

Except, she didn’t say it, she said⁠—

“Wait, why them and not it?”