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“Thank you. I have a stepmom. I don’t call her that to her face. It would piss her off. But I doubt she’ll come either.”
“Also a complicated relationship?”
“Not like me and my dad’s. But she won’t go against him.” I sit on a couch with my legs outstretched and my hands on my belly.
“What about Niko?”
“He’ll be here. Would you have a problem with that?”
“He’s your brother. So no, I don’t have a problem with him being here.” He pockets the brochure and sits on the sofa chair across from me. “About that night—”
I shake my head. “We don’t have to do this.”
“I think we should.”
“Did you know that I was Niko’s sister that night?”
“Yes. But only after you mentioned him at the bar.”
I’m processing everything, unsure if I want to ask the questions and what his answers will do to us. I grab my ChapStick from my purse and glide it on my lips. “Okay,” I say, rubbing my lips together. “Is that why you pretended to be interested in me?”
He looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind. “I didn’t pretend. I was attracted to you. You’re fucking beautiful.”
He thinks I’m fucking beautiful?
It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything.
“You told Niko, and I quote, ‘You fucked my wife. So I guess we’re even.’”
“I slept with you because I wanted you. It had absolutely nothing to do with my ex-wife or your brother. But I won’t lie to you.” He looks me in the eye, and I tense preparing for an ego punch. “When I said that to Niko, in that moment, I meant it. A fucked-up part of me enjoyed seeing the look on his face when he’d realized I’d had his little sister.”
“God,” I say on a breath as my lips twist in disgust. It’s the strongest and safest emotion for me to feel right now. Anything else and I’ll appear weak. And I can’t let him see me like that.
He leans forward with stooped shoulders and stabs a hand through his hair before looking at me. “I’m not a good man, Yasmine. I was a terrible husband to Jemma. And an even worse boyfriend. I’m selfish and impulsive. I haven’t always been a good friend, and I’ve hurt a lot of women—like I know I’ve hurt you.”
I swallow my sadness, listening intently, hoping I’ll never forget his warning.
“And I don’t expect you to trust me or forgive me for everything I’ve done to you and how I’ve made you feel. But I hope we can start from here, from this moment, and try to build a functional coparenting relationship.”
“I want that, too,” I say. “But I don’t know how we get there from here.”
“We spend time getting to know each other. Let me earn your forgiveness and your respect and hopefully, one day, your trust. And I’ll never disrespect you again.”
I want to believe him. But can I? Should I?
Uma enters the suite with a hopeful smile on her face. “What do you think?”
Hunter doesn’t acknowledge her, still focused on me. “Yasmine,” he finally says, standing. “Is this the one?”
I drag my eyes from Hunter and survey the room, trying to picture if I can see us here. For the first time today, I smile at Hunter, and I mean it, before meeting Uma’s expectant gaze. “We’ll take it.”
Chapter Twelve
Wanting to capture the memories of my pregnancy, I schedule a maternity photo shoot. Per Jordyn’s recommendation, I hire her brother. It’s an easy decision after checking out his reviews and online portfolio. After discussing what I want, Dru suggests an outdoor session at sunset to capture the best lighting.
Standing barefoot in a field of freshly cut grass, I follow Dru’s instructions as he clicks his camera in fast succession. “You’re a natural,” he says. “Did you do any modeling in New York?”
I laugh at his exaggerated compliment. “Five-eight does not a model make.”
