Page 55 of Single Dad Christmas

“You didn’t love Amy, but you married her, because you wanted to do what was right for her, and Taylor. You weretwenty years old, and you married someone who you know, and I know, got pregnant just so you wouldn’t break up with her.”

“Keep your voice down,” Noah cautioned, glancing towards the window.

“And you stayed married to her and tried to make a go of it. You showed up for her again and again, because you wanted Tay to have a proper family.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“I have no idea. I’d love to think so, but honestly…I reckon I’m more selfish than you, by a country mile.”

“Wait until you hold your kid in your arms,” Noah said, shaking his head. “There is nothing you won’t do for your child. Nothing you won’t give up.”

“Sure, if the sacrifice was worth it, I guess.”

“You don’t think Taylor is worth it?”

“I don’t think walking away from Louisa is going to change a damned thing about your relationship with Taylor. Maybe in the beginning, like now, she’s happy because she clicked her fingers, and you jumped. But what about in a year’s time, when you’re still miserable and Louisa’s met someone else, and you realise you let the love of your life go? How do you think Taylor will feel when she wakes up and sees what you gave up for her?”

He squared his shoulders. “She’ll know how much I love her.”

“She knows that already.”

Noah ground his teeth and glanced towards the window.

“You love Louisa, right? You told me she’s the love of your life? I didn’t make that up?”

“I love her,” he admitted, remembering the words he’d spoken to his brother the day he’d arrived.

“Have you explained that to Taylor?”

“Taylor’s terrified of losing me. Explaining how much I love Louisa seems unnecessarily cruel.”

“You never learn, do you?” Max said, shaking his head sadly. “You’ve been shielding Tay from the truth all her life, presuming she doesn’t have what it takes to make an adult decision. How about you give it a try? Tell her how you feel, what you want, and just see what she says, man. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Noah stared at his brother with a creeping sense of wonderment. Of possibility. Because maybe Max was right? Maybe by packing up and walking away from Louisa, he’d been infantilizing Taylor yet again. He knew how she felt, but it didn’t necessarily follow that she would want him to leave Louisa.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, snack forgotten as he prowled towards the door and turned back to his brother, frowning a little. “Thank you.”

“What are brothers for?”

Louisa’s phonehadn’t stopped buzzing for about three hours straight, so it was a relief when the battery finally died, and she could get some peace. A relief when she could close her eyes and not think about Moricosia and the nation’s shock at Ares’s announcement, not think about the press release the palace had issued on her behalf, wishing them well, not think about Noah, and Taylor or her family, so far away. Not think about how utterly alone she was, with no concept of where she wanted to be. And with whom she belonged.

For a brief few weeks, she’d felt that.

She’d felt every part of her lock into place and had known, beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was destined to behere, with Noah and Taylor. It didn’t matter that it was going to be a bumpy ride, it just mattered that they were together.

But Noah had been right to put Taylor first. It was his only option. She got that. She just wished she could go back in time, to that day in his office, and say ‘no’ to the dinner invitation. Shewished she’d never loved him, so the sting of losing him wouldn’t have so much power.

The knocking at her door was the final straw. On Christmas Eve, seriously?

She’d had all her blinds drawn all day, because the press had been poking around, trying to get a photo however they could. Miserable bastards.

The door buzzer rang. “Go away,” she shouted, proud of herself for avoiding a swear word, when one had been loaded on the tip of her tongue.

“It’s me.”

She sat up straight, staring straight ahead. “Noah?” She whispered, pressing her fingertips to her lips. She stood quickly, moving to a mirror. Her face was a mess. Puffy eyed from crying, pink and blotchy. Her hair was worse. But it wasn’t an option to leave him standing on the doorstep. Photographers were out there.

What was he thinking?

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