Take This Regret (Take This Regret #1)(60)
Author: A.L. Jackson

Sated and appeased, Christian leaned easily against the booth with his arm slung around our daughter’s shoulders, his burger polished off.

Happy.

Blue eyes danced with merriment as he announced,

“Present time.”

Lizzie bounced and clapped her hands. “Ooo, Momma, open mine first!”

Christian produced a smal box he’d kept hidden from somewhere beneath the table. It was square and shal ow, covered in shiny red paper bunched and uneven with a crooked silver bow— perfect—wrapped with great care by little hands. I released a smal , surprised giggle of appreciation and wondered when the last time I’d felt so loved. “When did you have time for all of this?” I held the smal gift near my ear and gently shook the tiny box.

Christian shrugged, smiled wide. “I took the afternoon off to take Lizzie shopping and to get ready.” He nudged her, and they shared a knowing smile, thick as thieves. “I call ed Natalie last night to let her know I was picking Lizzie up from school today.”

I hoped my expression was enough to portray how much this meant to me, that he would take the time to help our daughter do something that was so obviously important to her, that he took time for me.

“Mommy, open it!” Lizzie prodded.

I smiled, shook it again, and drew the words out as I said, “I wonder what this could be?” I figured she must have picked out a piece of jewelry.

Slowly, I pulled away the bow and ribbon and ran my finger under the paper to loosen the tape. I felt my chest flutter when I realized the box was black velvet, its contents real, and I worried that it had probably cost too much.

Then I lifted the lid to the sweetest gift I’d ever received.

The white-gold charm bracelet was a rod and bal type, simple and beautiful, and made me feel incredibly special.

“Do you like it, Momma?”

I glanced up at Lizzie who was on her knees, bouncing in her seat, eager for my reaction, and answered in complete honesty. “I love it.”

I traced a finger over it, unhooked its snap from the box, and held it up in the air over the table. Three silver bead charms slid to the bottom, one with an emerald for Lizzie’s birthday, one with a yel ow topaz for mine, and another simply engraved with Mother.

Christian leaned over the table and reached out. “May I?”

Smiling, I nodded and passed it to him. I stretched my arm across the table and couldn’t ignore the tingles that spread out over my skin as Christian’s fingers worked the bracelet around my wrist and screwed the locking clasp in place. He twisted it, wet his lips in concentration as he did, and then glanced up at me through his long lashes and then back down to finish his work.

He murmured, “You know you can add to this, right?” He ran the tip of his forefinger down the sensitive skin of my wrist.

It sounded nothing like a question but an invitation.

My face reddened, but I refused to look away.

Lizzie gushed as she nearly climbed on top of the table to admire the bracelet now dangling from my wrist. “Oh, it’s so pretty!” My sweet child looked up for my approval, hoping to find I liked it as much as she wanted me to.

Fingering the charms, I smiled back her, told her again how beautiful I thought it was and that I would wear it with pride.

“My turn.” Christian produced an envelope, larger than a normal card. It was thick and rectangular and it spiked my nerves with the way it shook in his trembling hand.

“Happy birthday, Elizabeth,” he said with the softest of smiles.

I returned an uncertain smile, hesitated as I held the card between us, and realized I didn’t want to be scared.

Just for one night, I didn’t want to be scared.

So I ripped it open. At first I was confused as I looked at the brochure and reservation slip in my hand until my mind final y came to recognition.

When I snapped my head up in surprise, I found Christian’s eyes burning into mine. His words more hopeful than any I’d ever known, impassioned as they passed through his lips. “Come to New York for Christmas with me, just you and Lizzie. I . . . I want her to see the tree . . . to show her where she was born . . . where we met.” In his expectation, I lost all reason and threw all sanity aside because I actual y wanted to go. I pretended I didn’t know what Christian meant when he asked me to go to New York with him, lied to myself again, and assured myself anew that nothing had changed.

Because by the look on Christian’s face when I released the breath I’d been holding and nodded that I would go, I knew everything had changed.

For a few moments, a new heaviness hung in the air, a new fear vying for my attention, imploring with me to pay it heed.

I pushed it aside and laughed through my embarrassment as our server suddenly appeared at the edge of our table and shouted over the clamor of the room, demanding attention as he call ed out, “We have a birthday in the house!”

Christian’s eyes glinted with deep satisfaction as he sang me the birthday song along with the rest of the restaurant. He seemed to make his own wish when I blew out the single candle stuck in a massive piece of chocolate cake.

“So how does it feel to be twenty-nine, Ms. Ayers?” all teasing from earlier aside, Christian’s eyes softened as he asked, truly wanting to know.

Like you missed too many years, I thought much too quickly before I had the time to dismiss its meaning.

Before I answered, I glanced at Lizzie, my reason for living, and back at the man who had somehow snaked his way back into my life and had become such an important part of my family. I realized in all honesty that it felt amazing.

For the first time in many years, I was truly happy. Even if being with him took great restraint, at times tore me apart and turned me inside out, it was worth every second. I swall owed and answered, “It feels . . . real y . . . great.” Christian grinned and touched the tip of his shoe to mine under the table, a gentle caress, chaste affection.

I blushed, flicked the bangs from my face, a subconscious tic, and knocked my bal oon hat from my head.

Squinting, Christian suddenly leaned forward as he tilted his head to one side. “How’d you get that scar above your eye?”

He reached across the table to brush my bangs aside, and instinctively I jerked away. I shook my head and forced out a feeble it’s nothing.

Christian frowned, and slowly withdrew his hand with my reaction.

“Shawn was mean to Mommy.”

Christian’s head whipped in Lizzie’s direction as she spoke the words before fiery eyes darted back to me, and I watched as a storm raced in, violent and destructive. And just like that, the peace of our evening was gone, leaving in its place a Christian I’d never seen, didn’t know.