Chapter Thirty-Five

Ava

Darcy and I go shopping. I’m not really in the mood, but Ray insists that we go have “some girl time,” shooing us out the door and promising to watch Mia for the duration.

The malls are packed, every store overflowing with people. Darcy and I snag a few deals after fighting hordes of sale-crazed shoppers, then—thank God—manage to grab a table at Starbucks and get some coffee. I don’t know about her, but my feet are killing me, even in sneakers.

“That was fun,” Darcy says. “At least I’m done with Christmas gifts for this year.”

“A woman with a plan.” I smile. She doesn’t need to shop Black Friday bargains to be able to afford presents. “And thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being sweet. If I’d stayed home, I would’ve been moping all day.”

Darcy sighs. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t realize Ray asked you to keep it from Lucas. That was…shortsighted.”

“He wants to protect you.”

She nods. “But Lucas has the right. I’m not going to lie and say that if he decides to take her from us, it won’t hurt. It will. Unbearably. But the truth always comes out, and it would have been much worse if he found out later. I much prefer having it out in the open, and then we can make our case for why he should honor the adoption.”

I reach out and take her hand. Darcy is always so levelheaded.

“I hope you make up with him,” she says.

“I… Yeah. I don’t know how.”

“Maybe you two could talk…?”

“I don’t think he’s going to want to hear me out. He was really, really angry.”

“When you went upstairs at Ryder’s house, you didn’t have enough time to tell him everything. Maybe you should, from the beginning. How what he did hurt, how it left you no choice. If he’s the kind of man who deserves your heart, he’ll understand you did the best you could in the situation, Ava.”

I hope so. But she’s right. No matter how nervous the idea makes me, I need to talk to him. I can’t just…give up like this.

My phone rings. Probably Ray calling for us to come back. As lovely as Mia is, she can be a handful to—

“Ava.”

My mouth dries at the sound of Lucas’s voice. I take a quick swallow of my coffee. “Hi.”

“Are you busy today?” There’s no inflection, nothing in his tone to indicate his mood.

“No. Well, it depends on when. I should be free in about three hours.” That should give me enough time to go home and change. I don’t want to see him in these old clothes.

“Then is about five thirty good?”

“Yes. Perfect.”

“I’ll send you a car at four thirty.”

“Okay,” I say, my voice shaky.

He hangs up. No teasing tone, no “I love you”—and I realize how much that hurts.

“Who was that?” Darcy asks, but she already knows.

I meet her eyes, hoping for some kind of sign. “He wants to talk.”

“That’s good then.”

“Yeah…I guess.” I hope so. Oh, how I hope so. “But I need to go back and get ready. Do you mind if we cut our shopping short?”

“Of course not.” She loops an arm through mine. “Let’s go. You’ve got a man to win over!”

* * *

Ava

The penthouse Lucas’s driver takes me to is not the one Lucas and I saw together. Is this the place he’s planning to get? I have no idea what the location means.

I vaguely register that it’s far more opulent than the place we decided on. The place is like a palace, designed to awe. It’s so ostentatious, it’s almost embarrassing.

An elevator with one glass wall takes me to the top level. I see L.A., twilit, at my feet, but it only makes my palms clammier. The people below seem to judge me…speculating about my chances of success.

I place a hand over my fluttering belly. Surely I can make this work. I’m in my favorite cornflower dress and matching heels. I didn’t do anything special with my hair, just brushed it out, but my face sports fresh makeup. I’m not here to elicit pity or anything like that. I just want a chance to say how sorry I am and explain why I felt I had to do what I did. It isn’t easy—I’m not generally an open person.

When the elevator arrives, I take a deep breath. My phone pings with a text from Darcy. You can do this. Have faith. And I’ll do as you asked, and hopefully it’ll all be good.

I swallow, then straighten my shoulders and walk past the foyer into a three-level penthouse. The lofts above are open and tiered, soaring like a cathedral. I feel like a woefully unprepared child about to sing a Christmas carol in front of everyone.

“Ava.”

I try a smile. “Lucas.”

I drink him in. Standing by the fireplace, he’s absolutely gorgeous in a sweater the color of the Pacific and black slacks. He isn’t smiling, his expression somber, but he also doesn’t seem frigid or angry.

That’s something, right?

“Have a seat.” He gestures at some couches.

I sit at the edge of a loveseat and fold my hands in my lap, my heart hammering.

Silence stretches, and my gut twists until I don’t think it’ll ever go back to normal. I lick my dry lips and finally say, “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t ask you to come so you can apologize.”

My palms are so sweaty now, I’m surprised my skirt isn’t soaked.

“Talk to me,” he says, his voice almost too soft to hear. “I have the right to know, don’t I?”

He doesn’t have to specify. I understand exactly what he wants, and I start from the beginning because that’s the simplest way.

Stick to the facts, Ava. Don’t get overly emotional. It’s not that kind of moment here.

I draw in a breath. Then I begin.