Because I Love You (32 page)

Oh, God, help me. What have I done?

Neil squeezed my hand in both of his and kissed my fingertips. “Hey, you’re all right. It’s over.”

I shook my head and winced, covering my face with my other hand. The one Neil held shook. “That’s the problem!” Another wail flew out of me, and I sobbed, my entire body convulsing. My stomach burned. Every joint in my body ached. I wanted to scream or grab a scalpel and stab my leg.

Why did I sign the papers?

God, just let me die.

“We’re going to take him to get cleaned up,” a delivery nurse said. “As soon as you’re ready, Andie, let us know, and we’ll move you to postpartum.”

The moment the door to my room closed, Neil spoke, “Hey, you need to breathe. We’ve talked about this. You’re doing the right thing. Think about Jodi and what she did for you. It’s hard; I know. He’s not even mine, and I’m hurting, too.”

Another sob.

“But Alyssa and Tom are going to love him, like your parents loved you. Think about their faces when you signed that paper, how happy they were. Remember what Alyssa said at the restaurant? Focus on that. You’re not only giving Ethan a chance at a better life, but you’re doing the same for them. You’re his hero, Andie.”

I cried until my throat burned, then his words sunk in.
I’m saving my son.
I thought about what Jill’s dad said.
This isn’t the end.
I pictured Alyssa’s face, smiling and tearful, and imagined what she’d look like when the doctors placed Ethan in her arms.
You’re his angel, Andie.

I wiped my hair off my forehead and looked up at Neil. His eyebrows were drawn together, but his gaze was unfaltering, affectionate. He touched my cheek and put my palm over his heart. I’d told him once how much it relaxed me to hear his pulse. It beat beneath my hand, and I closed my eyes, breathing deep and letting his love, his peace, soothe me.

He’ll be all right. It’s time to let go.

When I opened my eyes again, my tears were gone. Neil wiped my cheeks with his thumb.

“Will you tell them I changed my mind? That I want to hold him, at least once?”

He nodded and pressed the call button, asking the nurses if they’d bring back my son.

I squeezed his hand. “Thank you. For everything.”

“I’m Sir Donaghue, remember? Slayer of dragons—”

“Yeah, I know. Kiss me?”

He smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing, then he leaned over, lifted my chin, and kissed me as tenderly and passionately as the night I sat on the bed of his truck and let him into my life—my heart.

Best decision I ever made.

A knock on my door brought a nurse holding Ethan a moment later, and I held my son for an hour, memorizing his face, his smell, the feel of his soft skin. His eyes were a vivid, deep blue, and the few fine hairs on his head were the color of sand. He fit so perfectly in my arms. I couldn’t stop staring, touching his cheek, rubbing his tiny fingers between mine. Neil wiped away every tear and whispered jokes in my ear to make sure I never stopped smiling. It wasn’t until my eyes began to droop that I knew it was time to say goodbye.

Neil kissed my forehead then left the room to find Alyssa and Tom. Minutes later, the door creaked open. Neil was the first to step inside. He mouthed, “You ready?”

When I nodded, he led my son’s parents into the room.

Alyssa clung to her husband’s arm, and the moment she spotted Ethan, Tom practically carried her to my bedside.

“Oh, Andie, he’s beautiful,” she said, her face wet as she stroked the fine hairs on Ethan’s head.

“You can hold him, if you want,” I replied, my body too drained to cry anymore.

Alyssa nodded and wiped her cheeks before sliding her arms beneath Ethan’s tiny body and lifting him out of my hold. My throat tightened the moment cool air hit the skin where my son had once been. But as Alyssa and Tom’s faces flushed with bliss and happy cries left their lips, my heart filled with the same joy.

“Thank you,” Tom said as my eyes fluttered closed. “I don’t know how we’ll ever repay you.”

I smiled softly. “Just love him.”

Alyssa cry-laughed. “Oh, honey, we already do.”

One final tear fled the outside corner of my eye, and lips I knew so well found my forehead.

“I’m so proud of you,” Neil whispered, tucking hair behind my ear.

When his fingers slipped between mine, I gave them a soft squeeze, then, finally, the exhaustion won.

My seventeenth birthday, May seventh, fell almost an exact month later. Neil had started working for Owen’s dad two weeks before—after helping me through some really awkward postpartum issues and psychotic emotions—and my post-baby body was finally returning to normal.

Neil planned to take me somewhere for dinner, so I climbed out of bed around lunchtime. I still hadn’t been cleared for anything more than long walks, but I had to figure out a way to get back in shape if Jill still expected me to join her on a beach vacation in a few months. Besides, I had to do
something
to kill the time until my first night out of the apartment.

I forced myself into workout clothes. It was strange, wearing normal outfits again. I placed a hand on my flattening stomach and fought the tightness in my throat. How was Ethan doing? For months, I’d imagined comforting him when he cried and feeding him when he was hungry. Alyssa and Tom would take good care of him, but I’d give anything to see him one more time.

I took a deep breath and tied my hair back, swallowing my tears. At least I remembered again how to turn off my eye faucets. One of these days, I’d figure out how to better move on.
Each morning, it’ll be a little easier to wake up
, Jill’s dad had said after Mom died. It was one of the only things that had kept me going these weeks—knowing that, some day, the ache in my heart wouldn’t hurt so much.

At 6:00 p.m., seated on the couch and dressed in jeans and a baby-blue sweater, I checked my cell phone for any texts from Neil. He was usually off work by five, and Owen’s dad seldom kept them late on Fridays. We were supposed to be leaving at 6:15. Should I call him?

A knock on the front door made me jolt. I tucked my phone in my pocket and answered. A life-size, cardboard cutout of Chris Pine—as Captain Kirk—was in the doorway. Jill’s dark eyes peeked from around the side.

“Happy birthday!” she shouted.

I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” I’d made the mistake of telling her I thought Chris was hot in the new
Star Trek
movies. After that, every email from her had Captain Kirk’s smiling face below the message. And now, this.

“What?” she said. “It’s for the nights when Neil’s out of town.” Jill wiggled her eyebrows.

“Oh, good grief.” I snatched Chris Pine from her hands. Leave it to Jill to go
there
over a piece of cardboard. I set the cutout in the living room and eyed it sideways.
He
is
pretty fun to look at.
Besides, Neil’s reaction the next time he sat on the sofa and caught Captain Kirk staring at him would be hilarious. I smirked.

“Grab your stuff,” Jill said. “Neil didn’t have enough time after work to come get you, so he sent me. He’s helping Owen set up for your party.”

My eyes widened. “My what?” I’d asked him
not
to go overboard.

Jill held up her hands. “Don’t worry. It’s just the four of us, Logan, and Reed. It’ll be fun.”

I rolled my eyes, slipped on my white ballet flats, and then grabbed my purse. Figured Neil didn’t listen.

Fifteen minutes later, we parked on a side street in Denver. The city was extra busy tonight. I followed Jill as she rambled about some
Doctor Who
episode, and I nearly tripped over my feet when she stopped outside an Irish pub. Their sidewalk sign read live music started at 8:00—some band named Blue Jaguar.
This is where we’re meeting?

“Come on,” Jill said. “They have
amazing
food—the super greasy kind that gives you a stomach ache.” Her eyes were bright as she yanked on the door.

I shook my head, smiling softly, and followed her inside. Neil and the boys had a table right next to a small stage at the front of the restaurant. Band equipment was already set up, and behind the drum set, a large window gave a great view of the city. I’d expected more of a shady, hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but the inside was lively and cozy, decorated with Irish décor. Stairs to the left led to a balcony, where the bar was located, and the deceivingly-large dining area was filled with tables draped in black tablecloths. With the live music, Neil
had
picked a great place.

Neil stood as the two of us approached and wrapped his arm around my waist. He kissed my temple. “You look beautiful,” he whispered in my ear, sending a wave of hot tingles down my spine. “That shirt matches your eyes.”

I caught his happy gaze and smiled, squeezing his hand as I sat in my chair.

For about an hour, we ate and laughed—and convinced Owen
not
to try to trick the waiter into serving him alcohol. Then around 7:45, the manager stepped in front of the microphone on stage.

“Okay, so, you all know we have live music tonight. I’ve been told it isn’t a long set—maybe three or four songs. But the band’s going to come up here in about fifteen minutes, so if live music isn’t your thing, please let your waiters know so we can bring your checks.”

The boys squirmed in their seats, eyeing each other. When Jill smirked and pulled a camcorder out of a bag from under Owen’s chair, it clicked.

This was what Jill meant when she said Neil was helping Owen set up.

I stared at Neil. “You didn’t.”

His lips turned up in a playful grin, and he nodded toward the stage, signaling to the others to get up. “Well, today
is
your birthday. What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t go all out on the one day people get to throw gems and kittens at your feet?” He stood as the boys grabbed their instruments, whispering in my ear, “Though, I can’t say that my gift will be anywhere near as cool as a diamond necklace or a laser-pointer-chasing furball.”

I shook my head, unable to stop a tiny smile. Neil always had a way with words. And I loved it.

At 8:00 p.m. sharp, the manager returned and welcomed the boys. Jill took Neil’s chair. A red light shone from her camcorder. The two of us sat center stage, only feet from Neil. He hooked his guitar over his shoulder and whispered with Owen and Reed. As soon as the mic was turned over to Neil, he spoke.

“Hey, everyone. So, in case you didn’t see the sign outside, we’re Blue Jaguar. Apologies in advance if this really sucks. We haven’t played together for, what, two years?” Neil turned to Owen.

“Yeah, that’s about right,” Owen replied into his mic.

“Maybe our lead singer shouldn’t have broken up the band,” Reed said, plucking a string on his bass.

“Hey, you shitheads fought so much, it was either that or blow my brains out,” Neil replied.

“And we would
never
want you to do that,” Owen joked.

My grin grew to my ears as murmurs and light chuckles filled the bar. The boys were so comfortable on stage, still themselves and goofing around. This was so awesome to watch.

“Ha, ha. You’re funny, Danielson.” Neil smirked then looked me straight in the eye. “So, our first song of the night is one I wrote for my beautiful fiancée. Twice, you made a difference in my life. It didn’t take me long to know what I wanted to say. I love you, Andie.”

My throat tightened the second the music started. It was a slow, rock tune that began acoustic, with just Neil singing and strumming his guitar. His gaze never fell from mine. Then the other three joined in, and the pace picked up. Neil strummed harder and moved with the beat, his expression glowing with the love that poured through his words:
Your voice calls me from the dark. I’ll never be the same, not after loving you.

God, I was floating.

I held my breath, my heartbeat in my ears. Watching Neil perform, front and center, catching my gaze every now and then, my love for him grew with each chord, each lyric. I gripped the edges of my chair. He’d said the song would be terrible and suggested the four of them wouldn’t play well together, but it was so far from the truth. I closed my eyes and let the melody seep into my soul.

This was the Neil I’d fallen in love with—the guy who sang what his heart was thinking and left his blood on guitar strings and piano keys. I couldn’t wait to see his dreams come true, to have front row tickets to all he would become. Yes, I missed Ethan with every breath and beat of my heart . . . but maybe we all were exactly where we needed to be.

By the time the last note played, I was blissful and tingling. I opened my eyes to find Neil watching me, his eyes glowing. A soft smile lit his face.

Clapping and cheers took over the restaurant as Neil stepped off the stage and pulled me from my chair.

“You’re right. That was terrible,” I said, smirking as tears caught in my eyes.

He chuckled and brushed the back of his knuckles along my cheek. “Ha, ha. You’re hilarious, Hamilton.”