Page 104 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

And scorching hot sex.

I leave that part out. Not just because they don’t need to know about it, but because, sadly, after Sylvia showed up, Regan assured me that was ending.

Demographically, the people in Blake’s living room part like the Red Sea. The women gravitate toward Regan, wanting to see ultrasound photos and feel her belly. The men pull me aside, asking if I realize what I’m in for as a single dad.

For the better part of the evening, Regan and I are apart. We’re in the same place, but we’re not together. And I realize it’s just a taste of what’s to come.

Mom pulls me aside and hugs me. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“Yes, Mom. I’m happy.”

“Are you sure?” She eyes me like only a mother who has decades of experience reading her children can. “Because if you don’t stop looking at Regan the way you have been all night, I doubt anyone in this room is going to buy your friends-only story.”

“What? That’s crazy.”

“A mother knows,” she says with a hard, all-knowing stare.

I blow out a long, painful sigh. “It’s completely one-sided.” I lean against the wall and lower my voice. “Karma is a real bitch. After all my trials and mishaps, I finally find the person I think is the one, and she wants nothing to do with me other than honoring the contract we signed.”

“Are you sure about that?”

I nod.

“You’ve told her how you feel?”

I shake my head. “I can’t risk it. It would ruin everything. Even if by some miracle she felt the same—which she doesn’t—I won’t hurt her. I won’t hurt her like the others. Because I know I would.”

“This is different than all the others, sweetheart. She’s having your child. That bonds you in a way you never had before.”

“I can’t. I’d rather have what we have. She’s become like a best friend, Mom. I can’t risk it. I won’t.”

“Having a best friend is important.” She pats my arm. “But having a best friend who is also your lover, the parent of your child, and your soul mate, is the ultimate bliss.” She rises up on her toes and kisses my cheek. “I’m just saying… the greater the risk, the greater the reward.”

And with that, she floats across the room right into Dad’s arms. He pulls her close, kissing her temple, and whispers something in her ear that makes her blush. Thirty-three years they’ve been married, and they still seem like newlyweds.

I told myself I was getting that with Kaitlyn. I swore I was getting it with Simone. With Veronica. With Lissa. I stare across the room. Regan smiles brightly when she catches my gaze. She’s relieved we’ve finally told everyone. She can breathe easier. It’s not a secret anymore.

No. She has no more secrets to bear. NowI’mthe only one who has to live with that kind of torture. The kind that has you wanting something so badly… something right there in front of you, yet still so out of reach.

Chapter Thirty-six

Regan

I’m awake, but for a moment, I can’t see clearly. A headache splits my temples.

I lie here and take deep, cleansing breaths, feeling for movements from my little M&M. Granted he’s not so little now. And he’s been doing somersaults in my belly for months. It’s a feeling I crave even if half the time he’s bouncing off my bladder.

The headache isn’t subsiding, despite my controlled breathing exercises.

I get out my phone and text Lucas, who made me swear to contact him with every craving, every nuance of the pregnancy, and lately, especially since it’s been creeping up ever since I hit the third trimester, my daily blood pressure.

Me: Something’s not right.

As usual, I get an immediate response. It’s as if his phone never leaves his hands. I say jump and he asks how high. It’s endearing if not mildly annoying. He has no idea how him acting like a doting partner is messing with my head. Because all those feelings and emotions I had sworn were tied to my orgasms, they haven’t subsided. Even when I haven’t been in his bed for thirteen weeks. Not since the day Sylvia Franco showed up at his back door.

We’ve been together a lot. On our walks. When he brings me meals several times a week. During his late-night treks to fetch things like ice cream, pickle sandwiches, and my oddest craving: Cheetos dipped in strawberry yogurt. Not to mention the holidays he insisted Ryder and I spend with his family. Sure, my brother and I had to tell a few lies to get out of Christmaswith our parents, each of us still closely guarding a secret—a divorce for him, and M&M for me. We’ll tell them in good time. But not yet.

Luckily, Sylvia’s story wasn’t as popular as she had hoped it would be. Apparently, the heir to a winery having a baby with his gal-pal isn’t as newsworthy as say… a waitress marrying a senator’s son. I doubt the story even made it as far as Florida, making us basically local gossip fodder.

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