Her lips twist into a bittersweet smile. I hope to God she doesn’t cry. Her strength is what keeps me upright most days.

“What if they say she’d be better off with a mom and a dad?” Every worst possible outcome floods my mind all at once.

Odessa’s gaze falls to the floor and then back at me. “I know I’m not her mother, but I’d be honored to be that mother figure in her life. You know, if you’re so convinced the judge is going to go that route. You have me. She has me.”

“That’s a big commitment.”

“I know.”

“You’d do that for her?”

She exhales, her hand lifting to her chest. “Of course, Beck.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

ODESSA

I’m in love.

It came softly and unexpectedly, but I couldn’t escape it if I tried. This is the kind of love that lasts a lifetime; the kind that defines you and brings out the deepest parts of your heart you never knew were there.

I’m not her mother, but I love her the same.

Leaning over Sadie’s stroller, I melt when I catch a hint of a baby smile. She turned two months last week. Beckham acted like he didn’t want to make a fuss about it, but I made him take a couple dozen pictures with her anyway. He doesn’t say it, but he’s still afraid to get too attached.

We both know it’s far too late for that.

I rake a pink pacifier across her rose-hued lips until she latches on, and I lift a muslin blanket up to her belly before pushing on. The Saturday morning June air is just beginning to warm. Dane and Bellamy are in the city visiting Beckham, so I offered to take Sadie for a stroll around Central Park so the three of them could have a nice brunch at a restaurant that doesn’t have high chairs and complimentary wet naps.

The stroll is leisurely, the fresh air cleansing. We needed this. May was much too rainy, and Sadie was cooped up far too long.

Joggers pass us, and families, and little old ladies walking dogs. Sadie stirs, her arms fidgeting as she spits out her paci. She needs a break from the stroll. Ahead I spot an empty park bench, pushing her toward it and stepping on the lock before lifting her into my arms.

She glances around, her dark eyes wide. I’m not sure how much she can see, but Sadie appears to be taking in as much as she can.

“Much different than your nursery, huh?” I kiss her cheek, breathing in her powdery lavender scent.

“Your daughter is beautiful.” An older woman in head to toe neon green Nike powerwalks past me with a wide grin, her eyes moving from Sadie to me and back.

“Thank you.” I nod.

She feels like mine, even if she’s not.

Cradling her in my arms, I study her face. I can’t decide if she looks like Beck or not. Sometimes I see it in her expressions. He still won’t open the envelope, and it’s not my place to push him.

Another temporary custody hearing is tomorrow, sparked by the fact that Eva signed away her parental rights. Beckham’s been a moody mess since last week, each day worse than the one before.

Losing Sadie would destroy him. I refuse to believe it’s going to happen.

Sadie smiles up at me, wrapping her fingers around my pinky. I make faces and tickle her beneath her chin until her legs get to kicking. She’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.

After playing for a bit, her tongue begins to click against her lips. She’s hungry. Pulling her diaper bag from beneath her stroller, I mix up a bottle, lean back on the bench, and feed her.

Sadie watches me intently, her belly filling by the second, and I squeeze in a bit of people watching. A twenty-something couple amble past, fingers intertwined, and my heart squeezes.

I lift the baby over my shoulder to burp, and circle my palms over her back, inhaling her once again. The judge is going to let her stay with Beckham no matter what. I know it in my heart of hearts. There’s no one else better suited to be her father. My eyes burn for a moment, but I push those doubts and fears away. I’ve been so preoccupied with keeping Beckham calm lately that I haven’t thought much about how it would make me feel to lose her.

Squeezing her a little tighter, I lower her into my arm again and place the bottle against her mouth.

A little boy blazes by on a bike, his mom chasing after him, calling for him to slow down. Watching to see if she ever catches up with him, I spot two familiar faces up ahead.

My heart lurches into my throat, and for a moment the wind is knocked out of me.

The couple grows closer, and I call them a couple because they’re unmistakably holding hands.

Each second passes in slow motion, bringing them closer. They don’t see me. Not yet. But they will.

Sucking in a deep breath, I stand up, Sadie in my arms, and in my best cordial tone say, “Hey, you two.”

Jeremiah and Carly’s younger sister, Carissa, freeze, spotting me at exactly the same moment. Their hands drop and their faces turn pale.

I strut across the wide asphalt path toward them, my heart breaking yet satisfied by the way Jeremiah squirms under my stare.

“What’s this?” My eyes dance between theirs.

Carissa turns to Jeremiah but he looks my way.

“How long?” My jaw sets harder than the knot in my stomach.

This explains Carly’s strange behavior last time we hung out. I thought it was odd how distant she’d been lately, but I chalked it up to the fact that I was busy dealing with Beckham and my new job. I thought maybe we were falling out of touch.

I suppose she felt caught between her loyalty to Jeremiah and her loyalty to me.

This was the last thing I ever expected.

“It wasn’t planned,” Jeremiah drawls. His tone is smooth and unwavering but the shift in his eyes tells me he’s nervous as hell. “Carissa’s been interning at the studio. We spent some late nights together. It just sort of evolved, Sam.”

I fight a bittersweet smile, staring at the young woman who likely ignited the doubt in the mind of my former fiancé. Carissa offered an excitement I could never give him.

She was the catalyst.

“We never wanted to hurt you.” Carissa bites her lip. I’ve been best friends with Carly since college, but I’d only been around Carissa a handful of times since she attended culinary school in California. “If it makes you feel any better, Carly won’t speak to me.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, stuck between wanting to smack him and thank my lucky stars. I now know that marrying him would’ve been the biggest mistake of my life.

“When did things…evolve…exactly?” I ask, not that it matters at this point, but I doubt I’ll get another chance to ask.

 “O-oh, um,” Jeremiah stammers. His reaction confirms my assumptions. “I mean, we hung out a lot, but we didn’t really do anything until after you said you absolutely didn’t want to marry me.”

Carissa smacks him across the chest. “You make it sound like I’m some kind of consolation prize.”

His blue gaze darts between us. There’s nothing he can say that’s going to please us both.

“You’re not a consolation prize, Carissa. Damn it. We’ve had this talk.” His lips purse, his nostrils flaring as his hands fly to his hips. Jeremiah glances at me one more time, his eyes softening. “Are you happy now, Sam?”

His question is gentle, his expression genuine.

“I just need to know if you’re happy,” he says again.

My hold on Sadie tightens, and I look down to catch the last of her chocolate eyes before she nods off in my arms.

There’s so much more love in my life than I ever expected. My love for Sadie fills my heart so full sometimes, I’m worried it’ll burst. And Beckham. He’s my prickly cactus. The more he refuses to believe he’s deserving of love, the more I want to love him.

I want to love him.

I do.

I see things in him I’ve never seen in anyone before. He’s strong and gentle, protective and loyal. Unapologetic and stubborn.