Page 109 of Choosing Hope
“What do you mean, question everything?” he demands, his words tripping over themselves in their urgency to be asked.
I pause, trying to find the gentlest way to say it—but there isn’t one. Once I say this, there’ll be no pulling it back.
“If Kalie had been pregnant...I wasn’t sure if you might’ve chosen to be with her instead.”
Silence. Then his voice cracked through the line.
“What?”
It hit so hard I flinched, pulling the phone from my ear.
When he spoke again, it was lower. Steadier. Every word wrapped in fire.
“Sophie, I’m not with you because of Lily. I’m with you because I love you. Because no one else even comes close. I want more children with you. I want years of waking up beside you, building a life that’s ours. I want forever withyou.”
The tears pour down my cheeks.
“Sophie, this isn’t a conversation for the phone. Will you be home for dinner?”
I glance up at the clock and inhale a deep breath. I need to distract us from all this drama.
“Are you cooking?” I ask cheekily.
“If you come home, I’ll do whatever you want.” There’s a pause and I imagine him walking around the house. “I hate it here without you.”
I snort out a sarcastic laugh. “Ironic.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he replies in a deep voice. “Carlo came over to keep me calm.”
“So. You won’t cook. You’ll have Carlo do it,” I tease.
“You do what you’re good at. I’m good at delegation. Carlo’s good at cooking. It’ll be edible if he cooks. As long as you don’t have to do it, does it matter?” he tosses back, smug and unbothered.
Then softer, almost like he’s forgotten to guard it— “I miss you.”
His words make me smile but I refuse to let him win that easily.
“When did you turn into such a sap?”
“The day I met you,” he counters.
I roll my eyes, and my chest tightens.
“Charmer. We’ll see you soon.”
“I love you.” His voice dips—urgent, almost pleading.
I close my eyes for a beat.
“I know. I love you, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Spencer
Life has been challenging these past three months. After several failed attempts to lure me back to the club, I think—hope—we’ve finally seen the last of Kalie.
It started with photos. She sent them to my office—shots of her with other men, clearly meant to provoke jealousy. They didn’t. I ignored them. Let it slide.
