Page 77 of A Lie so Dangerous and Fragile

I hugged him tightly, my fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt in a fist. I cried it all out. The guilt whipped through me like burning leashes.

“I will do anything just to carry her in my arms, kiss her head, and tell her how much I love her,” he said, stroking my back.

“I took that away from you. I shouldn’t have,” I said, pulling away.

He stepped closer and brushed my tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

“I have gone through a lot with you, Chloe. I’m a father again. You gave me another chance, and I won’t ruin that. I wish I’d never lied to you. I regret it every single day.” He kept caressing my cheeks with each word he spoke. “To heal, I had to let go of the guilt. To stop blaming myself for what had happened with Fiona and Nadia, to focus on the present and the future. You and the kids are my present and future,” he said softly.

“Thank you for keeping the twins. I will forever be grateful. It’s the greatest gift I could ever ask for. Thank you,” he told me and wrapped his arms around me. He stroked my hair as I listened to his heartbeat.

“I was scared. I thought I was making the right decision.” I broke down again.

“Shh … it’s okay,” he whispered. “It was also my fault,” he mumbled after a while.

“I have her pictures on my phone if you would like to see them,” I said.

He was quiet for a few seconds.

“I have hope we’ll get her back,” he said, not looking at me.

“I know,” I said quietly.

“Yes, I wanna see her.” He pulled away.

I grabbed my phone from the bed.

“Shit, I’m nervous, and it’s only a picture,” he said, sitting on the bed.

I sat next to him, smiling. I showed him the pictures Mrs. Rodriguez had taken at the hospital after my labor. He stared at the picture for a long time with a sad smile, mixed with guilt. He almost broke into a sob as he buried his face in his palm. I swiped to another picture of her when she was two months old, giggling and with her tiny fist in her mouth.

“I will make us some coffee.” I stood up and gave him some time alone. I returned after a few minutes.

“How was it?” he asked me when I entered the room. “Pregnant and all alone?” he added before I could ask him what he meant.

“Terrifying.” I sat next to him on the bed after giving him his coffee.

I told him about my stay in Cuba. His ringtone blared in the room when I was almost done with my story.

“It’s my lawyer. I told him to do some research on the case and get back to me.” His body tensed.

I could see the fear in his eyes as he answered the call. He stood up and stepped two feet away from me. I could hear their conversation from where I sat.

“So, how do we file for it? What court? Is there any paperwork to do? How long is it gonna take?” Tristan asked, sounding impatient.

A muffled voice from the other line went on to explain, “It’s not that easy, sir. You have to file a request to the court to have your parental rights restored, which might take a while, months even, but I promise to do everything possible to make it sooner. The good news is, you can see your daughter. I pulled every string I could to make this work. I will have to see when they will be available and schedule a meeting.”

My heart was racing. I could hear the blood pumping through my heart rapidly as I replayed what Tristan’s lawyer had just said. They spoke for a few minutes before he hung up. He returned with a big smile.

“There is a possibility we can get her back. Since you gave her up without my consent, we might have a chance,” he told me, perching next to me on the bed.

“Do you think we are going to get her back? If they dig deep into our lives, we might—”

“Hey,” Tristan cut in, taking my hand. “Yes, we both messed up in different ways, but we deserve to be in our daughter’s life,” he said, and I nodded. “We are going to get through this, Chloe,” he whispered, touching my chin and looking into my eyes.

I nodded and gave him a weak smile. He brushed his thumb against my jaw, sending sweet currents and heat through my body. His touch brought back old memories. Every time his fingers stroked my skin, every time he looked at me like he wanted me more than life, the feelings slowly began to come back, like they were never gone but suppressed with anger and hate.

He leaned closer to my face. He hesitated and stopped. My eyes lingered on his lips, which were a few inches away from mine. I tilted my head to bring my face closer, and he leaned forward, brushing his nose against mine smoothly. He looked unsure. He stared into my eyes like he wanted to read me correctly. I swallowed hard when his hand cupped the side of my neck, his fingers slipping into the hair at the nape of my neck. His head dipped down, and he took my lips in a slow kiss. I kissed him back and moaned softly at the sweet stroke of his plump lips. My heart raced as my body reacted quickly to the touch of his lips, which brought every nerve in my body alive and made my insides flutter. My left palm pressed to the bed, trying to support my weight, as Tristan kissed me with pent-up hunger. The throaty groan from him made me lose myself in him. It only lasted for a few seconds before we broke the kiss, breathing hard at the loss of air.

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