“I didn’t mean to.” I couldn’t stay on the couch. I stood up and walked over to him and he shifted from left to right, obviously worried that I was going to touch him, so I didn’t. “Can you forgive me?”
He let out a shaky breath. “You think I don’t want to forgive you? You think I don’t want to take you in my arms and pretend it didn’t happen? Because I do.”
My mouth parted in anticipation, that stupid hope of mine encouraging me, and I stepped forward.
He stepped back. “But that’s the problem, Juliet. I can’t. This isn’t about forgiving you. It’s not knowing if I can trust you again.”
I put my hands out, wanting to touch him, but instantly dropped them when I realized what I was doing. So strange how I used to be afraid of touching him, but it had become so vital to me. “You can. I promise I’ll never lie to you again. You . . . spoil Magnus. Your chicken cacciatore is not as good as you think it is. You should not wear the color yellow, because it washes out your complexion. When I was fourteen, that celebrity pillow I kissed and caught my braces on? It was you. Noah, please.”
I saw him swallow, hard. “Maybe I can forgive, but I’m not sure I can forget. Maybe this seems like one small lie to you. But I told you, for most of my life I’ve been lied to. Not just by my parents. By everyone in this industry who thinks they can get something from me or coerce me into doing what they want. I can’t have it in my personal life, too. It’s too much.”
This time I did touch him, even though I knew I shouldn’t. I couldn’t stop myself. I rested my hand on his forearm. And he didn’t move away. “I want to fight for us. We’re worth fighting for. Please, tell me what I can do to make you trust me again. I’ll do anything to fix this. Anything.”
“That’s the problem, Juliet. Short of going back in time and starting all over, you can’t fix it.” He moved farther back, all the way to the front door. “I can’t do this right now. I need for you to go.” He opened it.
There had to be something I could do or say. I racked my brain but realized there was nothing. I had done everything I could. I had laid all my cards on the table, but he wasn’t interested in playing this game.
So I left. My heart broke a little more with each step I took.
When I got to my van, I turned back.
But this time he wasn’t watching me go.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
A couple of weeks later, Shelby and I were going out to look at baby cribs. She didn’t want to buy anything until Allan agreed, but her plan was to have it all picked out.
“If I don’t, then Harmony will just buy the one she likes.” She was trying to sound exasperated, but I could hear the delight in her voice. Harmony had come around in a big way, and Shelby was loving every second of it.
Remembering my resolve to be here, in the moment, I smiled at my friend. I was going to feel sad, probably for a long time, but I was doing my best to move on.
We got to a red light, and she dug something out of her purse. It was her lip gloss, which she handed to me. “Here. Put this on.”
“Are you afraid the clerks at the baby store are going to be horrified by me?” I joked. I counted it as a win that I was routinely showering again. But I put it on to humor her, because as she was fond of reminding me, newly pregnant women should always be humored, given the amount of vomiting they were subjected to.
Shelby suddenly pulled over to the curb and brought the car to a stop. “I’m doing this because I love you. Get out.”
“What?” I asked. We were in the middle of downtown LA.
“Go into that building, and you’re welcome.” She leaned over and opened my door. “Go on. Out.” She undid my seat belt and started pushing me.
“What is going on?” I asked.
“Go inside and find out.”
She’d told me that she wanted me to be the baby’s godmother, and if this was some weird kind of surprise party to celebrate that, I