Page 27 of Mr. Almost

His place might be nicer, but he still chooses to sleep here every night.

Only because Ari’s here.

Hell, since he found out about her, he hasn’t pushed me to go on a date or even flirted with me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy he finally listened, but at the same time, it’s a hit to the ego.

He doesn’t want me anymore, knowing that I pushed out a child.

“Stop it. You’re getting worked up for nothing,” he hisses, squeezing my hand.

I nod, swallowing hard.

Surely he wouldn’t still be holding my hand, offering me comfort if he were about to rip the rug out from underme…right?

MASON

“Do you think once she goes to bed, you and I can talk?”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Livvy’s face instantly dropped, and I knew she took it the wrong way. She probably thinks I want to take her to court and get custody of Ari, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. All I want to do is check in with her.

I want to know how she’s handling the change of me being present in their lives.

And there’s been so much change.

I already liked the Livvy I knew from before, but now I like her so much more.

Am I still mad that I missed out on years of Ari’s life? Hell yes, and I have a feeling I will always be a little bitter about it. My anger, though, isn’t aimed at Livvy. I believe that she tried to tell me. There is no faking that kind of pain.

No, the person I blame is my mother. She didn’t like Livvy the night we met, based on her appearance. So it’s really not shocking that she inserted herself into a situation that didn’t involve her.

I missed out on years of my daughter’s life. First time sitting up. First time standing. First time walking. First time talking and everything in between.

So many firsts.

Now that I know about Arianna, I can’t bear to be away from her. I want to spend every minute of every day with her and her mom.

Livvy has tried like hell to provide for our daughter, and as far as I’m concerned, she’s succeeded. Her apartment is the size of my closet, and the heat is finicky, but it’s still a roof over their heads, and she has a warm meal on the table every night. You can feel love bouncing off the drafty walls, which is a lot more than the mansion I grew up in.

“She’s asleep,” Livvy says as she walks back into the room.

God, she’s gorgeous. I thought she was beautiful four years ago, but she’s only gotten better with age.

She crosses her arms defensively over her chest. “You said you wanted to talk.”

“Sit, please.”

“I’d rather stand.”

I sigh. “Livvy, please.”

“No, if you’re going to tell me something I’m not going to like, I’d rather be as far away from you as possible.”

I run a hand over my face. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I promise. Please sit, so I don’t have to look up at you.”

Livvy huffs and sits on the arm of the couch.

Better than nothing, I guess.

“How are you?”

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