Raise him as his own? I frowned, cocking my head to the side, before the penny dropped. Then I started laughing like a maniac. Oh, God. He thought Grayson was ours. Mine. That was hilarious, and frightening, and so, completely Alex to jump to such a drastic conclusion. I unlocked my door and pushed it open, and he followed behind me. The tension that was thick in the air evaporated—some of it, anyway—and I took out two bottles of water from the fridge, handing him one. I leaned against the countertop while he stood at the doorway to my small, stuffy kitchen and stared at me.
“I babysit Grayson. He’s not mine, or yours. He’s Ollie and Tiffany’s. Clara’s grandson,” I clarified.
“Holy fuck, you could have started with that instead of laughing at me.” He plastered his forehead to my fridge and smiled. “Thank God. I mean, cute kid. But still. Thank God.”
I laughed some more, and he did, too, before we both turned serious again.
“I’m clean now, you know,” he said, referring to the time he’d come back to Los Angeles, angry and crazy and so lost, trying to drag me back into his arms, never acknowledging my tragedy but illuminating his. “Just got done with my tour. Nine months sober. I wanted to show up after the month, but couldn’t help myself. I was afraid you’d move on.”
“I know you’re sober.” I bit my lower lip, then took a sip of my water just to do something with my hands and mouth. Blake kept me updated—even though I’d told him I didn’t want to hear it. I was happy Alex was seeking help. I just didn’t want to be in the loop to feed my obsession with him. Because I hadn’t moved on .
“I’m happy for you, Alex. I am.”
He swiveled his body to be aligned with mine, staring me down like the predator I longed to be devoured by. “It was the hardest thing I had to do in my entire life. Not the physical bit. That was a piece of cake, actually. But mentally. Making the conscious decision to never consume another drop of alcohol or a line of cocaine. Being so far away from you, because I knew you wouldn’t accept me any other way—but even more alarmingly, maybe you wouldn’t accept me even after all the changes I’d made. I’m not here to make promises, because promises are meant to be broken. I’m here to give you the facts, one by one. Fact number one”—he took a deep gulp of air, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them wide like he’d just risen from the bottom of the ocean coming back for air—“I love you, Indigo Bellamy. My love for you is like a studded leather jacket worn inside out. It digs into my chest, eager to produce blood. And I will do anything for you, not because you’re my muse or my salvation or my best lay, but because you’re inside me, like an organ, like a vital thing I cannot function without. I don’t even want you at this point. I need you. It’s different, and carnal, and completely necessary for my existence. Fact number two.” He took a step toward me, and I tried hard not to wince, because it was too soon to touch, even if he’d just swiped my hair off my face. “I recognize, now, that I made your heartbreak about me. I was so consumed with wanting you, I cared more about not losing you than comforting you. I want you to know I’m deeply, wholeheartedly, dreadfully sorry. Regardless of who you are to me—the love of my life or some nameless girl I was never going to meet—I still would have done right by you had I known what was going on when Fallon came home the night of the accident. But I didn’t. Not at the time, at least. You have to understand that, Indie, because I won’t be able to survive living in this world knowing you think I could have saved your parents but chose not to.”
Another step, and the distance between us erased, replaced with body heat and familiarity. The intimacy you couldn’t fake in a million years. The one that comes with love. “Fact number three—I didn’t know who you were. I didn’t see you as a charity case. I thought it was sad that you were an orphan, but no sadder than how I’d lived my life without a family. In my mind, we were two asteroids orbiting around each other. I thought I was the sun and you were earth, but now I see I got it all mixed up. You were always the sun. And even now, when I look at you, I don’t see regret and pain and suffering. I see the biggest opportunity, the sweetest promise, the road I should be taking.”
We were toe-to-toe now. He put his palms on my cheeks, and my eyes stung, my heart racing wildly. I didn’t push him away. Even the pain he gave me was special because it was his. I knew exactly what he’d meant by saying he needed me. I needed him, too. My life felt so hollow without him in it. Most days, I felt like I was merely existing, but nowhere near living.
“Fact number four—it doesn’t matter what or who brought us together. But it happened, and we can’t undo it. It’s there, and we can’t go back. When I saw you with a baby this afternoon, the first thing I wanted to do was snatch you both and run away from here with you in tow. Most of all, what scared me was that I wasn’t even remotely disturbed by the idea of having a kid with you. And that says a lot. Shit, Stardust, that says everything. You’re holding my world together in your delicate, freckled hands, and all I ask is for you not to toss it against the wall and break it to pieces.”
His mouth closed in on mine, his lips tracing mine like braille, like he was trying to read the reaction out of me. I sucked in air and opened up for him, and we kissed so slow and so soft I thought I was being drugged into a lull. Eventually, I was the one to suck his tongue into my mouth and moan, trying to peel off his leather jacket. I wanted to believe he was sober and was going to stay that way, because deep inside, I’d already forgiven him.
Alex Winslow made me lose a part of my heart.
But he’d also sewn it back together, in tattered patches, in ugly patches, but it was whole. In its own, imperfect-but-still-working way.
“I love you,” I whimpered into his mouth, tearing our kiss apart to say something important. “Before she died, my mother told me that in order to know if you’re in love, you need to make a list of all the stupid things you did for that person. I made a list, Alex. It’s not pretty. On paper, I’m kind of a fool.”
He stared at me for a second, curving one side of his mouth and showing off the perfect row of teeth, like in the movies. His everywhere eyes sparkled with newfound happiness.
We stumbled to my bedroom. I laughed when we tripped over my new sewing machine. He hoisted me up and wrapped me around his waist, his signature move, and we were together again, in Moscow, Poland, Germany, London, and Paris.