Page 73 of The Sweetest Chirp

“Hear me out,” he says softly, holding up one hand while his other continues to grip the table. “I feel like I had to lose you to know I was a fucking idiot. I was so used to you being there, always in my corner. I knew, after a bad day, I’d have your smile to be in awe of. I knew if I needed to talk, you were there. At my games, always my plus-one, and you never complained. I held you back. I know I did.”

“Some could say I did the same to you,” I suggest, but he shakes his head.

“No, Audrina. I took you for granted. I kept you where it was safe, and I knew neither of us could get hurt.” I stopped breathing the moment he said my name, and still, I’m unable tomove or breathe as he continues. “Losing you showed me that if I wanted you, I had to work for you. I had to find you and convince you I would always cherish you. Not take you for granted. I couldn’t just live with you, claim you in my head, and think things would go the way I wanted. I needed to find you, prove to you I could be the man worthy of you, and then continue to show you that daily.”

I wipe away a lone tear and look down at my wine again as I draw in deep breaths to try to calm my out-of-control heart. “Thatcher,” I whisper, my voice unsteady. “I never felt like I wasn’t important to you. I knew I was. I never got the vibe that you wanted more.”

“As I said, I was scared not only of the rejection, but also of losing my best friend.”

I bite my lip, letting his words wash over me. I’d felt the same. I’d rather have had whatever stagnant relationship we had than have nothing with him at all. “God, this is so messy.”

“It doesn’t need to be,” he insists, claiming my gaze. “I was wrong to get mad at you for Dart, and even more wrong for never truly letting it go.”

I swallow hard. “I shouldn’t have slept with him. I wanted you.”

“You could do what you wanted,” he tells me softly, though I don’t miss the tightness of his jaw. While he knows his words are correct, he doesn’t like them. “I wish you hadn’t, but you weren’t mine.”

“I hurt you, and if I had known that was going to happen, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“I know, but you didn’t know how I felt.” He takes in a deep breath, letting it out of his nose. “I was wrong for everything I said to you in front of everyone. I knew that right off the bat. In my head, I even told myself to stop, but I got so pissed and it was like the old wound of you with Dart had opened again. I couldsee it all happening again, and I snapped. I truly didn’t mean to hurt you, calling you the things I did, and I am sorry for that.”

When his eyes meet mine, his shoulders drop, and I feel like this is the part where he spills his guts to me. My mouth is dry, while the muscle in my chest throbs in pain and is pounding erratically against my ribs. It feels as if it’s about to explode out of my chest and land on the table before us.

If I had known then what I do now, I don’t think I would have run. I think I would have fought harder, but we were both so hurt from the mistake I’d made when I slept with Dart. Thatcher can say that I had every right to do what I wanted with whomever I wanted, and I know that I did, but we both also know my heart has always been and will forever be his. I thread my fingers through his, all the pain, longing, and fear pulsing between us, just like the living, breathing thing that Ingrid had mentioned.

This is a huge moment for us. This is the turning point, the fork in the road. One way leads to us raising Arwen while I hold the past close and allow it to slowly ruin me because no one—and I mean no one—will ever be Thatcher Orlov. Or I can go the other way, which leads to forever with the man I love, raising our daughter and making our future what I’ve always wanted for us.

The lump in my throat makes it hard for me to speak, but somehow, I’m able to whisper, “I forgive you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Ido my best not to whoop, flip the table, gather her in my arms, and have my way with her when she utters those three words. While I have wanted her forgiveness, I know in granting it, she’d also be allowing herself to move forward with me. She was so standoffish at first, forgood reason, but now, all I see is the girl I fell in love with all those years ago. Sure, time has passed, she has changed and so I have, but no matter what, the fire between us burns bright and hot.

A fire that has never gone out.

She does a little wiggle as she eats from the second round of plates on the table. Everything has been so good, but not as good as the company before me. A blissful look takes over her face as she tries and devours everything on the table. As I watch her, I feel my chest ache, and my hands itch to touch her. I want to pull her into my lap and feed her. I want all her little sounds of pleasure and wiggles for myself alone.

She asked why I hadn’t kissed her, and I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know that I could stop. I want her so desperately, but I don’t want her to think this is only about sex.

I want all of her.

I want a life with her.

I want to raise Arwen but also give her little brothers and sisters.

I want to make Audrina happier than she could ever imagine.

I tap the table, out of habit, to get her attention, and when she looks up, those doe eyes locking with mine, heat explodes in my balls. She’s so fucking beautiful and all mine. “I want your forgiveness, Audrina. That day is something I’ll always think of as one of my biggest regrets. And let’s be honest, I have a lot of regrets since I have a habit of passing the puck when I should shoot.”

She snorts at that, shaking her head. “You haven’t lately.”

My body burns, knowing she’s watched me play. “No, because I’m taking what I want.” She pulls her lip between her teeth, and I admit, “I didn’t plan all this for you to forgive me.”

She arches a brow. “I never said you did.”

God, I love her mouth. “I know. I don’t want you to think that since I fucked up, I felt I had to make up for it. That isn’t what I am doing.” Am I even making sense? I don’t know, but I’m lost in her eyes, and I feel like my heart is speaking, not my brain. “I did this to make you see that you’re worth my time, my effort, my love. I’ll do anything to make you smile,dushen’ka.” On cue, her beautiful mouth spreads into the most stunning smile. “I know I’ll fuck up, and I’ll be the first to apologize—I promise—but I don’t want to be one of those couples where I have to make up for my fuckups to remind you how I feel about you. Am I making sense?”

“I think so,” she says softly, her brows furrowed so deep I could put a finger in the crease. I don’t, and I also feel like I’m not making a lick of sense.

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