Page 137 of Forbidden Lyrics

“What if he isn’t the father, though?” she counters.

I tilt my head to the side. “Who? Milo?”

“No. Gibbs. What if he isn’t the father? What if you pass on the love of your life because he might be a Baby Daddy but isn’t? Won’t you regret it for the rest of your life?”

“Who says he’s the love of my life?”

“You did.”

“I said I loved him,” I clarify. “Not love. Not after he lied to me.”

“Bullshit, Dove. Love doesn’t vanish that easily. Not when it’s the real deal. Trust me. I’ve tried. And even if you hadn’t admitted you love him, it was pretty clear in the video. And the fact that you gave him your virginity? I was raised under the same roof, Dove. I know what that means. I know you wouldn’t take that step lightly. You love him. And he loves you. Don’t let my mistake be the thing that keeps you apart.”

It sounds so simple. But it isn’t. It’s complicated. And messy. And terrifying. Because if I fell this quickly, what happens when it’s two months down the road and we find out he’s the father of my niece or nephew? How is that fair? How the hell would anyone expect me to handle that? It would never work. But if he isn’t the father, would I be able to get over him sleeping with Maddie? Honestly, I don’t know. The idea of them together is crippling. But the idea of me not being with Gibson is pretty damn crippling too.

I don’t know what to do.

“What if he is the father?” I whisper.

“Then we cross that bridge when we get there.” She leans back against the headboard, wraps her arm around me, and pulls me against her. Closing my eyes, I rest my head against her shoulder as she adds, “But you can’t end things yet. Not when you finally have everything you’ve ever wanted.”

I sniff and try to ignore my racing heart and the hopelessness that overwhelms me. “But how do I let his past go?”

“By recognizing that it’s his past. And you’re his future.”

She squeezes me tight as her words hit like a wrecking ball. Could I be his future? Would he even want me to be his future after I ditched him to deal with Fender on his own? He begged me to come back and stay with him, but I left. I left him all alone. To face his father. His sick brother. The band. Hawthorne. I cover my mouth as guilt threatens to swallow me whole. I feel terrible. I don’t know what to do. What to think. I feel like I don’t know anything anymore. But Maddie’s right about one thing. I love him––more than anything else in the world. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.

Soaking up her warmth and comfort, I realize that I’m not the only one dealing with a lot of unknowns, especially after everything she’s told me this morning. And the fact that she’s been carrying all of this alone is heartbreaking.

“And what about your future?” I ask.

“Me and my little peanut.” She rubs her free hand against her belly. And even though I can’t see her face, I can hear the smile in her voice. The awe. “That’s my future. I don’t need a man to take care of us. I have me. And I have you,” she adds. “I love you, Dovey. I know I’m crappy at showing it, but I’m going to work on that. And I know I haven’t said it, but I couldn’t have made it through this pregnancy without you. You seriously saved me. I’ll never be able to repay you for stepping in when no one else would.”

“Milo might’ve,” I correct her. “If he knew––”

“He can’t know.”

“Why not?”

“Because he can’t,” she argues, her voice laced with pain.

Sitting up again, I lift my chin and face her before deciding, “I’ll make you a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“You promise to tell the father, whoever he is, and I promise”––I take a deep breath––“to not ruin my relationship with Gibbs before we even know whether or not he’s related to your little peanut. Deal?”

She purses her lips before gritting out, “Dove…”

“Deal?” I push.

She chews on her lower lip as her indecision threatens to consume her. I don’t blame her for taking a few seconds to consider the situation. I didn’t exactly offer an easy deal for either of us. Heck, I’m already starting to second guess myself here. But her baby deserves to have a father. Especially if he’s Gibson or Milo.

“Deal?” I repeat.

“Only if the deal doesn’t include Marty. He’s toxic, Dove––”

“Fine. You have to tell the father if it’s not Marty. Okay?”

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