Page 63 of The Last Thing
“It has to be fate. It’s everything I’ve wanted, but was too afraid to admit to or hope for.”
“And she wants this too?”
I chuckle at that. “She’s excited about the pregnancy. She’s always wanted to be a mom. But she’s got a guarded heart. I can see the longing in her eyes. I know she wants this too. But I’m going to have to break through some walls.”
Mom’s smile grows. “I don’t think that’ll take long. You have a big heart, and it won’t take long for her to see it.”
“I hope so. Anyway, I’d like to bring her with us for dinner on Sunday. It will only be as Sophia’s nanny and my friend. We obviously haven’t told Sophia any of this yet.”
“How far along is she?”
“Eight weeks now.”
She covers her mouth with her hand. “Eight weeks. Amazing. Another grandbaby to love.” She pulls me into her arms. “I love you, honey.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
“And don’t you worry. Hallie will come around in time. I can see the joy being around you and Sophia brings out in her, and I only saw it for a little while. She’ll get there.”
“I hope so. I really, really want this.”
“You’ll have it. I believe that. And I think you’re right. Dad’s looking out for you.”
I let out a shaky breath.
It’s hard to admit how badly I want this. The fear of getting my heart broken if she doesn’t come around is always there in the back of my mind. But she’s scared too. So if I can be vulnerable with her and show her how much I care, I’m going to do that. I want her to know she’s safe with me. If that means risking my heart to show her I’ll always keep hers safe, I’ll do it without a second thought.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
HALLIE
“This is so cute.”
Deck—no. Wilson.Wilson.He asked me to call him that, and I’m working on shifting it in my mind. Even if calling him Mr. Decker in bed the other night was steaming hot. Which was great, since it was the only good night I’ve had. Last night, he couldn’t even touch me I was so nauseous. We sat in his bed and ate french fries dipped in sour cream together while watchingYellowstone.
What’s that? Sounds a lot more like a relationship than just trading orgasms?
Well, what can I say?
I’mfucked.
Every time I think I can keep my heart safe and keep my walls up,Wilsongoes and grabs a chisel. Or a sledge hammer.
That man is coming for my heart, and I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to stop him.
For the first time in my life, I’m not sure I want to.
It’s an endless internal war for me. To give in to something I used to so desperately crave or to hold on to the walls I put up… because they’re there for a good reason. Right?
I have no idea anymore.
Wilson laughs at my description of his mom’s house. The house he grew up in. But it is cute. A little white Tudor-style home with a small stone front porch and perfectly manicured front gardens. There’s what appears to be a small yard in the back, and a part of me wants that kind of idyllic life. I love the apartment I’m living in because it gives me city vibes without being in the city. It’s calmer and quieter, but still with more life than this little street.
Maybe one day. When I’m a soccer mom and have figured out a career that gives me a solid enough income to buy a house instead of “renting” from my sister for zero dollars a month.
“Wait till you see the inside. It’s even cuter,” Wilson says, climbing out of the car.
It’s still a little strange to call him Wilson. There’s something inherently intimate about it. But I’ll get used to it.
