I blink twice, wondering if I’m imagining his presence. I know pregnancy hormones can be powerful, but can they cause hallucinations?

His handsome face is marked by deep circles under his eyes and even darker stubble on his chin. His white shirt is unbuttoned one too many times to be appropriate for a businessman. Rubbing his lips together, he runs his hand though his hair. He looks straight into the glass and into my eyes.

I slowly open the door, and his sheer, masculine presence makes my knees wobble. I can’t say anything because I don’t want to cry. Instead, I stand aside and let him sweep past me and into the kitchen.

I peer at him closer. He looks like hell, with longish, rumpled hair. Brooding and tortured. Broken, even. He never looks disheveled like this, and his posture isn’t the usual straight-and-haughty.

He whirls to face me. “When were you going to tell me you were in the hospital?” he demands, half-shouting.

I open my mouth, then close it. I wasn’t expecting him to yell at me.

“I had to hear it from Caroline yesterday, and I chartered a flight all the way from Madrid because I was so worried. You could have told me in your emails that you were sick. Or in your phone messages. Are you okay? What’s going on?”

I stand by the table, and my eyes go to the hospital file. I cling to the back of the kitchen chair so I won’t tumble over. Caroline called him? Does he know about the baby?

“Justine, talk to me. Tell me you’re okay.” He grabs my shoulders and squeezes, spinning me to face him. Deep lines of fury are etched between his brows.

“I’m okay,” I say quietly. “I was severely dehydrated.”

“How many times have I told you to drink water? You never drink enough water.” Scowling deeper, he releases my arms and pinches the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb. He gestures with a broad sweep of his hand. “Christ, Justine. Do I have to remind you to take care of yourself?”

I puff out a little laugh, and it dawns on me that he doesn’t know about the pregnancy. Caroline obviously told him I was sick as a ploy to get him back here, back to me, so I could tell him the news in person. I giggle. “You…you came all the way from Spain to tell me to drink water?”

His glare turns into a small smile. “No. I came here for something else.”

Rafa kneels before me on one bended knee, and the hummingbirds in my chest began to alight. “Amor. I came to apologize. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking this past month. Like usual, I wanted to put business first and get everything squared away before letting you in on any decisions. Then I realized that was wrong of me. I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure everything was right for us. I’ve only ever worked hard and wanted to succeed for you.”

“Why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for,” I whisper, running my fingers through his dark hair.

“I acted terribly when we were younger. And when I arrived in St. Augustine. I was scared because I loved you. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, and I never will. You’re the person I’ve never stopped looking for in a crowd. Te quiero. Te amo. I love you.”

He takes a deep breath, and his voice quivers as he speaks. “I’m sorry for being so cold after the miscarriage. I didn’t know how to deal with my own grief, much less yours. I didn’t know what to say or how to act. Then I was stunned by your father’s attitude — I grew up in Miami, where Cubans aren’t just accepted, we’re in charge. No one had ever treated me like that, like I was different or a minority.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears spilling everywhere. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry it all happened like it did. Justi, I wanted perfection then, and I want it now. But it’s taken me all this time to realize that what we have is amazingly imperfect and perfectly amazing. I’m sorry I gave you less than you deserve. I hope you can forgive me.”

I open my eyes. Rafa pauses and presses his lips to the back of my hand.

“When I came to St. Augustine, I shouldn’t have tried to pass off our attraction as only sex. I should have told you that you are the single most important thing in my life. You always have been, and you always will be.”

I gulp in a breath. “Don’t apologize. I understand everything now. And I should have never left you.”

He stares at me, solemn. “Let’s leave the word should out of our vocabulary from this point on.”

I’m bawling at this point, sniffling and running my hands over his glorious, silky hair. The hummingbirds are flying at full force now, going a hundred miles an hour in my chest.

“I don’t care where I live as long as I’m with you. I don’t care if we’re rich or poor. I’ll spend my last dime to save your paper if that’s what it takes for you to be with me. I need you, Justine.”

He extracts a black velvet box out of his pocket. His big eyes lock onto mine.

“Will you marry me?” he murmurs, opening the box to reveal an enormous diamond.

I laugh and tip my head back, tears streaming down my face. “Yes, Rafael, God, yes.”

He fumbles with the delicate ring, finally extracting it from its nest. Taking my hand, he stares at my finger, on which sits the ring he had bought so many years before.

“You…you’ve been wearing this? You took it from my house?”

I nod, and he presses his lips to my palm. He slips off the old ring and tucks it in his pants pocket.

“We’re going to put this, and the past, behind us.”

I shudder a breath as he slides the new diamond onto my finger. Sinking onto the floor next to him, I’m rubbery, incapable of holding myself upright. His hands embrace my head and back as if I’m breakable.

“I’m glad you came back for me. For us. I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry I was so stubborn.”

“Justi, don’t apologize. We’ve both made mistakes.”

“Let’s try not to make any more mistakes, okay?”

For the first time, I see tears form in his eyes. They threaten to spill over his bottom lids. I start to weep because I’ve gotten another chance with him. Another chance at life. He gathers me in his lap.

“I love you.” I sniffle and snort while holding my hand out so I can look at the big and bright diamond. He’s compromising, which is what I’ve always wanted. Or perhaps we’re both compromising, and both getting what we need.

Either way, I’m sobbing and radiating happiness.

“The ring is stunning. And that’s a perfect idea about the house. Thank you.” I shudder in a breath while he soothes and caresses my back.

We hug tightly for several moments, and I don’t want to let go. Rafa smells faintly of wind and water and all things safe and familiar, and I close my eyes to inhale the scent of his skin. I trail a line of kisses down his neck.

“Justi, what have you been eating? You smell like…I don’t know. Peanut butter?”

I swallow hard. Right. I need to tell him about the baby. “Ah… I…I think we should sit. Maybe on the sofa. I wanted to tell you something.”

“How about the bedroom?” He raises an eyebrow suggestively.

I nod and stand up. “Yes. Sure. I’ll, um…meet you in there in a second. I want to use the bathroom first, okay?”

Rafa also stands and grabs my ass, drawing me against his erection. “It drove me crazy to be away from you for a month. Seriously. I thought I was going insane. I was having withdrawals.”

He plants a scorching kiss on me.

“See you in the bedroom,” he says, ambling down the hall.

I pace a few times in the kitchen and grab the ultrasound folder. I take a deep breath, then go into the bedroom.

When I see his muscular, mouthwatering body on the bed, a wave of lust surges through me. I suddenly want to touch him, everywhere. “You’ve wasted no time in taking off your clothes.”

“I’m not going to waste any time taking yours off, too. If you’re feeling okay, that is. Get rid of that dress and climb on top of me.” His eyes are half-lidded and he points at the folder. “You’re not planning on talking about the paper now, are you? I think we have more interesting things to discuss.”

I shake my head. This is no time for sex, although the combination of him naked and my pregnancy hormones are making me want to pounce on him. I stand, frozen, because I have to tell him about the baby. Right now.

“What? What is it, amor?” Rafa scowls, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

Opening the file, I silently hand him a black-and-white photo.

Rafa’s brow furrows as he holds the photo, and his voice rises in time with his panic. “What is this? An X-ray? Justine, is this from the hospital? What’s wrong with you? Is it a tumor?”

I shake my head and rest the file on the bed next to him.

“Justine, talk to me. Now.”

Gently, I take his right palm and press it firmly to my abdomen.

“That’s our baby.”

His eyes go round, and I’m not sure if he comprehends. “Rafa, we’re going to have a baby. I’m eight weeks pregnant. This ultrasound was taken this morning.”

There’s a pause, and I hold my breath. His face explodes with the biggest, craziest, ear-to-ear grin, and I exhale, loud. Finally, there are no secrets between us, and I kiss him slow and soft. He puts both hands on my stomach.

“Our baby.”

He caresses my hips, and I kiss the top of his head.

“Our baby,” I whisper.

“Can I see?” His voice cracks.

“See what, Rafa?”

“You. Your stomach.”

A laugh, gleeful. “I’m already feeling fat. I’m going to be huge, Rafa. You need to know that my body isn’t going to be the same for a while. But I’m loving my curves and can’t wait to be big with our baby.”

His fingers gather the hem of my dress and lift it. I slip it over my head and stand before him, clad in only a pair of lacy, pale-blue panties.

“Jesus. I didn’t think you could be more beautiful, Justine. I was wrong.”

He runs his hands over my stomach, pressing his face to my bellybutton. His lips skim my skin.

I tilt his face upward. “Are you okay with being a father?”

“Are you crazy? I’ve never felt more… I don’t know. Proud? Virile? Masculine? This…” He sweeps his big hand over my stomach. “This is mine. Because of me. And you. Our love. Our passion.” He sucks in a breath. “Are your breasts getting fuller? Dios mio. You look so insanely sexy.”

“I’m glad you think so. Because one of the side effects of being pregnant is an increased libido.”

I lean into him, cupping his face in my hands and pressing my lips to his and consuming his mouth. Rafa breaks away, hesitant. “Justine, I don’t want to do anything to hurt the baby. Maybe we should hold off.”

“I have a brochure for that,” I say, turning to the file on the bed and extracting a pamphlet.

SEX AND PREGNANCY, it reads. Rafa takes it in both hands and becomes absorbed. I climb on the bed and squeeze him from behind, pressing my cheek to his back.

“‘You won’t hurt the baby by making love,’” Rafa reads aloud.

“Mmhmm,” I mumble, nibbling on the back of his neck and rubbing his muscular shoulders. “Even with my previous miscarriage, the doctor said it was so long ago that I should be okay now.”

“‘Most women who are having a normal pregnancy may continue to have sex right up until their water breaks or they go into labor,’” he murmurs.

“Good to know,” I breathe into his ear, taking his lobe in my teeth, my long hair spilling onto his skin.

“‘Sex during pregnancy is the absolute last thing on some women’s minds. Other women, however, may crave sex in pregnancy.’”

My nipples pebble against his bare back. I take the brochure from his hands and toss it on the floor. He turns to face me, and I caress chest while staring into his eyes. “I think you have some husbandly duties to perform.”

Rafa eases me gently onto my back with a long kiss.

“At your service, Señora Menendez.”

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