Chapter 41

FORTY-ONE

A few days later, we’re finally released from the hospital, and while I’m beyond happy to be home, I’m worried about Ty.

Ever since Tanner showed up at the hospital, there’s been a tension in his shoulders, a stiff set to his jaw, and a harshness in his eyes when he doesn’t think anyone’s watching him. The only time it all truly seems to dissipate is when he’s holding Lana.

It appears I’m not the only one completely wrapped around our young daughter’s tiny little fingers.

Ty tucks me into bed for a rest since I have strict orders to take it easy while my incision heals. Lana is in my arms, sleeping soundly, while he makes multiple trips downstairs to make sure I have snacks, water, and anything else I could possibly need.

When he’s about to move away from my bedside to go grab something else I probably won’t need, I grab his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He looks down at me, that slightly harsh and haunted look in his face. Except on closer inspection, it’s not haunted—it’s hurt. My heart aches for him because I know how close he is to his brothers, and it’s breaking my heart knowing I’m the reason they’re fighting.

I’m still reeling from the discovery that it was Tanner who dug up my life history and handed it to the press. I never would’ve expected him to do that in a million years. I didn’t realize I was the reason he skipped Thanksgiving until Ty and I talked about it after he left the hospital. This whole time I had no idea he hated me. Because you have to hate someone to destroy their reputation the way he’s destroyed mine.

Focusing on Ty, I slide my hand from his wrist to interlock with his fingers. He squeezes once and sits on the edge of the bed. “Why don’t you take a shower and then relax with me?” I suggest.

He shakes his head like he has so much to do, but he doesn’t. His mom is staying in the guest room downstairs, and Danae and Alayna already connected with all the other LA Wolves wives and girlfriends for a meal train. There’s nothing pressing he has to do, and I suspect the real reason he refuses to stop moving is because then he has to face his feelings about his brother.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.

His shoulders sag. “No.”

Disappointment hits me hard even though I know I don’t deserve for him to open up to me—not after what I put him through. I look down at our daughter, my gaze tracing the lines of her sweet little face, wondering if we’ll ever get back to that place where we had started to rely on each other.

He squeezes my hands. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it with you, Lex. It’s just a big fucking mess.”

If I’m really going to let down my walls, there’s no time like now to start—to prove to him that I’m going to keep choosing him. “It scares me too.”

His dark-brown gaze snaps to mine. “What does?”

“Opening up, sharing feelings, working through them.” That last one might be the hardest of all to admit. “For the longest time, I thought if I just shoved it all down and locked it up tight, I could live my life with my head down. I would never be disappointed because I wouldn’t really expect anything from anyone.” I force myself to hold his gaze even if it frightens me to let someone see me be so vulnerable. I’ve never even been this honest with Blaire. “And then you came into my life, and suddenly I wanted something—something I didn’t believe I deserved.”

“Lex—”

“No, I need to say this, and you deserve to hear it. I got scared, Ty. Everything felt too good to be true, and in my experience, that was always when the rug got ripped out from under me. That day when the story blew up, when you asked if it was true, I felt judged. My brain immediately went to that place that says I’m not good enough and I don’t deserve good things, so to protect myself, I lashed out and then shut down. And that wasn’t fair to you. It wasn’t fair to the relationship and trust we’d built, and I’m sorry. Clearly, I have a lot of issues I need to work through.”

His hand slides into my hair, and he pulls my forehead to rest on his. “Lexi, I’ll take you any way I can have you. I love you.”

“I don’t want to be this way.” My voice is whisper soft. “I don’t want to be waiting for the rug to be ripped out from under me all the time. I don’t want to live my life expecting the worst. I don’t want our daughter to grow up with a mom who hasn’t learned how to conquer her demons.”

“Can I make one request?”

“What?” I whisper, our foreheads still touching and our gazes locked.

“Let me fight them with you? Even if it’s just standing on the sidelines cheering you on when you feel like you’re about to lose, or throwing up a shield so you can take a breath. I don’t want you to shut me out again.”

I close the distance between our mouths, my eyes snapping shut, so all my other senses can heighten the experience of this man’s love. I don’t know what I did in life to deserve it—maybe he’s my reward for surviving all the hard days up to this point—but I don’t want to take him for granted.

When we pull away, both a little breathless, I say, “You can fight them with me.”

His hands tighten in my hair, and he slips his tongue into my mouth, caressing mine with such care, my heart races as I melt into his kiss, his comfort, his love.

It’s harder to break the kiss this time, but we both know it can’t go anywhere—not for at least six weeks while I recover—and I want him to have some down time to himself.

He places a delicate kiss on my forehead before he gets up and heads to the shower while I stare down at our daughter who slept through her dad making me feel like the most important person in his life.

I run a finger over the thick, black hair at the top of her forehead, then over her round cheeks. She’s so little, so delicate, and yet she’s made such a huge impact on my life.

“I’m going to love you with every breath I breathe for the rest of my life, even when you’re a moody teenager.” Tears fill my eyes as those worst-case scenarios run through my mind, but I know all too well the possibility of growing up without a parent. “And if anything should happen to me when you’re still young, I never want you to forget, bone deep in your soul, how loved you are. That you are worthy of every incredible thing that comes into your life. That you deserve the deepest love, the kind of love that makes you feel invincible and also scared shitless—because that’s the kind of love you’ll feel forever even if you lose it. I want you to feel brave enough to take risks, to spread your wings, to allow yourself to fall because you have faith you can get back up. You are the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. You are a miracle.”

She turns her head, nuzzling against my chest, and then opens her eyes. They’re still that grayish blue babies have when they’re born, and I can’t wait to see if she’ll have my eye color or Ty’s.

As we stare at each other, something inside me clicks into place, like a piece I never knew I was missing. And it’s exactly what I needed to feel to know that no matter what happens, good or bad, this is the family I was always meant to have.

The journey was torture, but I ended up right where I always belonged, feeling more loved and cherished than I ever knew possible.