Page 48 of When Love And Destiny Collide

"I think it's time for a nap, Bud," Noah says, noticing Davey's signs of tiredness. "Let's head inside. You can wash up and then lie down for a bit."

"But I'm not tired," Davey protests, rubbing his eyes once more.

"Lily's dad is coming over later," Noah says with a smile. "I want you to be wide awake so you can teach him some more Japanese.

"Okay, Daddy," Davey says, trudging toward the house.

"I'll be right back," Noah says, reaching for my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

I follow them into the house and start pulling limes from the refrigerator, preparing to make my father's favorite drink—Brazilian lemonade. As I stir a simple syrup on the stove, Noah walks in. I turn off the heat and turn to face him.

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he says, his concern evident. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I reply, managing a small smile. "There’s nothing to apologize for. Davey’s just a little kid. He speaks from the heart. He wants a sibling."

"He's five," Noah says, leaning against the counter next to me with his arms crossed. "He doesn’t really know what he wants. Once all the kids are back, he’ll forget all about it."

I can smell his cologne and feel his sympathy envelope me. Part of me longs to reach out and touch him, while another part wants to walk away and distance myself from the intense sense of loss swirling inside me.

"Please don’t feel sorry for me, Noah," I say, my voice trembling as I fight to keep the tears at bay. "I can't have children, and if things between us get serious, it might be something we'll have to contend with in the future."

As the weight of my words sinks in, I feel a rush of embarrassment and quickly look away, distracting myself by turning the burner back on. But Noah gently reaches over and turns it off.

"Noah," I protest softly.

"Look at me, Sweetheart," he says, his hands warming my arms. I meet his gaze, desperately hoping my eyes won’t betray the tears I’m struggling to hold back.

"I'm sorry," I say, shaking my head. "I'm sorry for sounding like—for assuming."

"Let me say something," Noah says, his gaze unwavering. "Things between usareserious. You told me the doctors said you had a five to ten percent chance of getting pregnant. We’ll face those odds together when the time comes. I love you, Lily, and I’m not going anywhere. Your infertility issues are my issues. We’ll handle it as a couple."

Despite my best efforts, tears begin to flow uncontrollably. Noah gently wipes them away with his thumbs and then with his lips, his touch tracing a tender path across my skin. The sensation is overwhelming, a balm to my heartache. He lifts me onto the counter, his kiss deepening into a slow, exploring embrace that makes me feel cherished and wanted.

When he pulls away, I pull him back to me, eager to show him how much I love him. From my perch on the counter, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him with a tenderness that mirrors my own feelings, brushing my lips across his face until our lips come together once more.

***

An hour later, I'm stirring spaghetti sauce while Noah rolls dough into a loaf. After he places the dough in the oven, he turns to me with a warm smile. "I'm going to wake up Davey, otherwise, he’ll be up all night."

He kisses me on the forehead and heads for the stairs, taking them two at a time. Just as he reaches the top, his phone begins to ring.

"Noah, your phone!" I call out, reaching for it.

"Answer it, Sweetheart," he replies from above.

I glance at the caller ID and see Marian’s name flashing on the screen. My heart skips a beat as I answer.

"Hello?"

"Who's this?" a woman's voice asks, with a beautiful British accent.

"This is Lily," I reply, trying to keep my tone casual.

"Where’s Noah, and why are you answering his phone?"

"He's with Davey," I say, my heart racing. "They're on the second floor of the house, so I answered his phone. Can I take a message?"

"So, you're the woman sleeping with my husband," she replies, her voice cold and cutting.

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