He stepped toward me, grabbing my hand in his, caressing my knuckles in such a delicate way that made me want to melt into a puddle.

“Please, Mackenzie…” He leaned toward me, brushing his lips against my forehead, kissing me so delicately, so lightly. “Serafina,” he whispered, “tell me what it will take and I’ll do it.”

Despite everything he had just said, I simply couldn’t let him back in. Relationships were based on trust, and Tyler took my trust and used it against me. I couldn’t forget that, no matter how much my skin yearned for his touch.

“You want to know what it’s going to take?” I asked softly, freeing my hand from his grasp.

He nodded, nervous anticipation radiating through his body as he looked at me with eager eyes.

“It’ll take one more time,” I murmured, opening the door. Peering over my shoulder, I saw his deflated expression. “It will always take one more time.”

Tyler

“DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE giving up,” a voice said, startling me. I didn’t know how long I had been staring at that closed door, thinking the only thing that mattered had just walked out of my life once more.

“Ma.” I spun around. “Did you–”

“I heard enough.”

I let out a low sigh, feeling weighed down. “What should I do, Ma? She wouldn’t even listen to me!”

A sympathetic look on her face, she approached me and placed her hands on my shoulders, forcing me back around. “You get back out there, Tyler. It’s not going to be easy, and I have a feeling this battle certainly won’t be won overnight. It’s going to take some time. She spent the last several months getting used to her life without you in it. You being back is going to take some adjustment on her part…and yours. You can tell her you’re sorry all you want, but your words don’t hold any merit, not after what you put her through. Start from the beginning again. Be the Tyler I love. Show her the real you…”

“I did show her the real me.”

“Then help her get reacquainted with that person.”

 I nodded and stared out the window of the front door, seeing Mackenzie’s trembling frame sitting on the grass. Her head was upturned, staring at the sky. I wished I knew what she was thinking at that moment.

“Go, baby. You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you. Don’t expect a miracle. Get to know her again. Let her know you. Let her fall in love with the new you. I have a feeling she’ll come around.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said, leaning down and planting a kiss on her forehead. Taking a deep breath, I placed my unsteady hand on the doorknob and turned it, heading down the steps and onto the grass. My silhouette cast a shadow over Mackenzie, but she remained facing forward. I could tell she was consciously trying to ignore my presence.

“Do you mind if I sit?” I asked in a firm tone, trying to mask my unease.

She craned her neck to look at me and nodded slightly…an ambivalent gesture.

“Thanks.” I lowered myself, not sitting too close. Although nothing had really changed between us, there was still an electricity in the air just from being near her. She hadn’t turned me down or run away, so I was taking this as a step in the right direction, regardless of how small a step it was.

A few birds chirped, flying in and settling on the fountain, bathing their feathers. The sun was pleasant, and clouds drifted in the sky, reminding me how much I missed being home. In the African desert, the sun was relentless, barely a cloud in sight. The texture in the sky here was beautiful, reminding me of all the times I sat in the backyard with my mother, spying animals in the clouds.

“It’s a boy,” Mackenzie said, breaking the awkward silence. I snapped my head toward hers and met her eyes. She fidgeted with the hem of her skirt and I could sense her nerves. I felt the same way, although I didn’t want her to know it. “I mean, I figure I should tell you since you’re the father and all.”

“Mackenzie, I–”

She held up her hand, stopping me. “Don’t worry, Tyler. I’m not asking you to help. I know this is probably all a bit of a surprise. It took me quite a while to wrap my head around everything. Truth be told, I’m still coming to terms with it, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to change your lifestyle or act any differently around me. If you don’t want any part of this–”

“What makes you think that?”

She shrugged and avoided my eyes. “I just–”

I reached over and grabbed her hand. She looked at me and a glimmer of hope ran through me when she didn’t immediately pull away. “I want to be part of this baby’s life. Despite what you want to believe, our son is the result of my love for you, and I will make sure he has everything he needs. The same goes for you. I want to be part of your life, too, but I know we have a lot to work through before that can happen. I get it. We know each other, but we don’t really know each other. I’m willing to start from the beginning again, to find out who you are as a person. I hope you’ll give me the chance to at least find out who I am as a person, too. I hope you’ll give me the opportunity to prove I’m worth your time, your trust, and maybe your heart.”

She nodded and tore her hand from mine, staring forward once again. I expected her to give me a list of reasons why it would never work between us, but that didn’t happen. I was hopeful that meant she was willing to give us a second chance, despite it all.

I glanced to her as she gazed out over the perfectly manicured lawn of my mother’s house, unable to remember ever being so on edge and nervous around a woman before. I was cognizant of each of my movements, from a flicker of my tongue to a deep breath that could be taken the wrong way.

“Why do I feel like a thirteen-year-old boy who is talking to a girl for the first time?” I joked.

She gradually faced me, a small smile crossing her beautiful lips. Lips I had dreamt of nearly every night since I had been gone. “Did you really not talk to a girl until you were thirteen?” she asked, her voice coy.

I chuckled, relieved the thick tension between us was starting to break.

“I was a bit of a late bloomer, I guess.” I smiled, running my hand through my hair.

“What was her name?”

“Who?”

“Your first crush.” She looked at me with eager eyes, and hope washed over me that she had taken my words to heart. She was trying to get to know the real me again. She was willing to give me the chance that, just moments ago, I didn’t think she’d ever give me. This wasn’t forgiveness, but it was a step in the right direction.

“Marcy Brennan. She had the cutest freckles behind her ears. I sat behind her in Math and, whenever she had her hair pulled back, I always stared at them. She forgot her pencil one day and she turned around and asked to borrow one of mine. She had never spoken to me before and I was in shock. I gave her my pencil without even thinking. Too late, I realized I had given her my only one, but I didn’t care. I would have given her anything.”

She kept her gaze trained on mine, absorbing my story. A light expression crossed her face and her rigid stature relaxed.

“How about you?” I asked in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

“Damian Mills,” she answered without hesitating. She pulled a blade of grass out of the lawn and began to tie it in knots. Her eyes grew bright, a slight smile crossing her lips. “I was eight. He moved in next door to us. I remember sitting in a tree that separated our yards when the moving trucks pulled up. Then I saw a boy who appeared to be my age jump out of a car. I thought he was so cute. We became friends, nearly inseparable, and I no longer looked at him that way. Every night, after we were supposed to be asleep, we climbed out of our bedroom windows and met on the limbs of that tree. We just sat there and watched the stars.”