Page 68 of Baby For My Bossy Fake Fiancé

“I’m sorry that you had to go through all you did. I’m sorry that Mom, Dad, and I didn’t push harder.”

A familiar glint flashed through her orbs. Cutting deep into the scars of my heart.

Love.

I didn’t deserve that. Not after I killed my own son.

Her smile was small. And the tentative move of her hands was enough to know what would come next.

I watched with thickened emotions as she brought a finger to my clenched fist.

I flinched.

“It’s okay.” she paused, releasing a shaky breath.

“Whatever you feel is okay. But what is not is making yourself bound to your feelings. I do not have a child. So I don’t know what it feels like to lose one,” her remaining fingers joined the lone one, brushing slightly. “But I know what it feels like to lose someone you love. I know what it feels like to lose a brother.”

I moved my eyes from our hand to her face. Tears filled her eyes and before long, they started to fall.

Again.

My two-year-old was gone, all because of me. And I slowly watched my family become strangers because of the guilt.

I wanted to explain to her. To tell her I still didn’t deserve her love. I didn’t deserve anyone’s love. But I whispered the only thing I could. “I’m sorry.”

After seven years, I was finally admitting to my mistake of shutting them out.

She breathed with a smile. “No, Damien. We are sorry. And I promise we, your family, are here for you. I’m glad you have your fiancée too.”

“...I’m glad that even through all this you managed to find someone.”

I held my breath.

“I want us as a family again. Just like we were,” she leaned back. “And that’s why I’m inviting you to our little get-together in two days. It would be just us. And Renee. As a family.”

She smiled. “What do you say, Damie?”

My heart tugged at the nickname. It was one she gave me when I was twenty. And she was ten.

The one she gave me when she had reminded me how much I meant to her.

You’re my big brother. And I love you for that.

I nodded.

“Thank you, Damien.”

All she wanted was a second chance to be there for me.

Still with her smile, she rose from her seat opposite mine, before heading out the door.

I squeezed my eyes shut to the sound of her retreating footsteps. Until it stopped.

“Oh and Damie, your taste in things is still shit,” she smirked. Glancing around my office once more.

Was it?

Without waiting for a response, she walked out.

---