Page 32 of Daniil
Having a child of my own is a whole other level of emotion.Watching him sleep in my arms is the most incredible feeling, his warm body close to my chest, so trusting and innocent.He needs me to protect him.
Which is what Courtney has been doing.
As much as I can bluster and bristle about her deception—there’s no excuse for hiding my child from me—I can understand where she’s coming from.Not to mention my less than stellar history with relationships.I’ve truly only had one as an adult, and I broke his heart.
A dangerous lifestyle coupled with a man who lives a very public playboy lifestyle.I’ve given her no reason to trust me—not with our child and certainly not with her.No wonder she ran.
When I can’t find any more reasons to sit here, I gently lay Micah in his crib and then slip out.
Courtney is nowhere to be found, so I go back downstairs and discover her cleaning up the kitchen.Wiping down the counters as the dishwasher hums softly in the background.
“He’s asleep,” I say quietly.
“He sleeps well,” she responds, rinsing out the rag and then going to work on the highchair.
“Can I help?”I ask, hating that I’m standing here doing nothing while she works.
“No, I’m almost done.”She tosses the rag in the sink and pulls out a can of disinfecting wipes.She wipes down the highchair, throws away the wipe, and then uses the rag again.
“That’s a lot of work,” I say after a moment.
“His highchair gets gross during the day, so at night I wipe it with soap and water to get all the gunk off.I use the disinfecting wipe to get rid of bacteria, and then I get rid of the chlorine and chemicals with the last pass.I’m done now.”She turns and bumps right into my chest, nearly losing her footing.
“Sorry,” I murmur, steadying her.
God, she’s beautiful.Even with her hair in a messy ponytail, no makeup, and a T-shirt stained with…who knows what.
“I guess we need to talk,” she says, dipping her head again.
As if it’s difficult to look at me.
I hate this weird distance between us and know that it’s up to me to fix it.No matter what decision we come to, she’s the mother of my child and I will never disrespect her.Even if she hurt my feelings.Even if what she did was wrong.
“Can we go sit down?”I ask.
“Sure.”She brushes past me into the living room, sinking onto the couch and tucking her feet under her.
Then we both start to talk at the same time.
“Look, I want to?—”
“I think we need to?—”
“Ladies first,” I say automatically.
“I owe you an apology,” she says finally.“I don’t regret trying to protect Micah from the dangers of your life, but I know it was wrong not to tell you about your son.”
“Thank you.I appreciate that.”I lean forward, waiting until she looks at me.“What do you want, Courtney?Money?”
“No.”She shakes her head.“I can take care of him.I mean, if you wanted to put some money away for his college or something, I wouldn’t say no, but I don’t need child support.”
Looking around, I know I have to word my response delicately, but it has to be said.“You do.You keep him healthy and clean, but we both know you should be living somewhere…else.”
She arches a brow.“Like where?Limaj?Because that’s not happening.”
“That’s not what I said.I meant, somewhere in a good school district, or a more affluent neighborhood that has less crime.”
“I’m safe here.I have a top-of-the-line security system.Landon or whoever’s on duty at Westfield monitors everything.And I have a support system with Adele.I won’t have free babysitting at the drop of a hat if I move.”
