Page 56 of Legally Ours

"Shhhh," Brandon finally murmured into my ear. He placed a slow kiss at the edge of my earlobe and pulled me into his chest. "I already told you, Red. I forgive you." Then, after another pause: "I'm glad you did it."

Wetly, I blinked, completely taken by surprise. "Wha-what?"

"I'm glad you did it," he repeated. He pulled back to look me in the face. Even though his eyes were wet and fathomless, they were also kind. "I know what it's like to be raised by parents who don't have it together, Skylar. So do you, for that matter."

"Brandon, I wouldn't have been like your––"

"I know," he cut me off. "I know, baby. I know that even if you were living in a dumpster, you'd be a better mother than mine ever fucking was. But the fact is, our lives, our relationship, was a mess."

I gulped. The vitriol of that statement wasn't intended for me, but it hurt anyway.

"But I'm glad you didn't have to go through it alone," he continued quickly, still stroking my back. "Because if we have a kid, we're going to do it right. Together."

I didn't miss the emphasis on the word "if." His uncertainty stung, but I couldn't blame him for it.

"But what if it doesn't happen again?" I wondered.

I knew that in all likelihood, I'd be able to get pregnant again one day. But by the time I was ready (likely not for another three-to-five years, once having a baby wouldn't essentially mean career suicide), there was definitely a chance it would be a lot harder.

"Honestly?" Brandon said. "It doesn't really matter. When we're ready, we'll try. And if it happens, great, but if it doesn't, then we'll do what Ray and Susan did for me. Only this time, we'll do it without any strings attached. We'll love that kid like it's really our own."

His body tensed, and once again, I found myself wondering what sorts of demons were circling around his mind. If I asked, I wasn't sure he would tell me, so I decided not to press. Not now. The time would come for that catharsis another day.

Until then, I knew I had more work to do to earn back Brandon's trust. The plan I had come up with sitting by the river swirled around in my head again, and I nuzzled his shoulder, ready to get started. Love was just one step toward healing.

~

It was close to noon when Lucas pulled the Escalade in front of the small colonial house in Somerville. I sat there for a moment, taking in the house where Brandon spent ten years after social services had placed him with his foster parents, Ray and Susan Petersen. Having missed his morning workout, Brandon had taken a few hours with his trainer later in the morning before going to a meeting with Cory and the rest of his campaign staff.

"Everything all right back there, Ms. Crosby?"

I looked up at Lucas and smiled, although I was a little sad. This was going to be a hard conversation.

"I hope so," I said, and got out.

"I'll be out front when you're ready to go, Ms. Crosby," Lucas said as he ushered me up to the porch.

He glanced suspiciously from side to side while we waited for the Petersens to answer the doorbell. Two weeks ago, I would have rolled my eyes at his protectiveness, would have fought it tooth and nail. But after being kidnapped––an experience I still hadn't even started to process––I was grateful to have the big man with me.

"Oh Ray, keep your hat on!"

Susan's voice rang through the oak, and a second later her birdlike form opened the door. She looked the same as the last time I saw her, albeit dressed in casual jeans and a flowy blue shirt instead of the equally flowy dress she had worn to Brandon's campaign announcement.

The Petersens, I knew, weren't particularly happy with Brandon's sudden decision to run for mayor. While at first enamored by the idea of Brandon becoming a statesman, even the president, Susan had clearly been overwhelmed by the press attention she'd received at the fundraiser. Ray, on the other hand, simply thought politics was a waste of Brandon's keen mind. Of course, the man wouldn't have settled for anything less than his own profession, an MIT professor and researcher.

"Skylar!" Susan cried out with her arms held toward me. She pulled me in for a quick, tight hug, and with an uncomfortable nod at Lucas, shut the door behind us.

"Gets a bit tiresome, doesn't it?" she asked. "Having them around all the time. Ray's about had it up to here, let me tell you."

I shrugged off my jacket and allowed her to take it, looking around curiously. "You have a security detail too? Where are they?"

"You didn't see the van across the street?" she said waving a hand toward the door. "They watch the house like hawks." Then she put a hand on my shoulder. "But of course it's necessary, after what you went through, dear. Just awful––Ray and I were terrified when we heard the news."

Something in me stilled. Susan was one of the few people who had actually mentioned out loud what I'd been through. I took a deep breath and smiled.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's my fault," I agreed grimly. "I'm so sorry my family's troubles are causing so much frustration for everyone."

"Oh, hush," Susan chided as she led me down the hallway. "You're not the hooligan bullying everyone, now are you? And after what they did to you..." she clucked her tongue, looking me over carefully. "You look amazing. I'd be an absolutely mess if someone abducted me, good lord. Thank goodness you're all right, and thank goodness for Brandon, is all I can say. We might grumble about the security, but the truth is, I'm glad I don't have to worry."

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