Pursuing My Rejected Luna by Cara Anderson novel Chapter 125

Chapter 125

Nicolai

I’ve taken to spending most nights in Skye’s bed recently. It’s not about sex. Much to her annoyance, I’m still refusing to cross that line until I’m one hundred percent sure Skye won’t regret it. It’s never mattered to me before whether a womatt regretted giving herself to me or not. But this is Skye, and something tells me I wouldn’t survive it if she did.

But since the night we admitted we’re in love with each other, sleeping apart didn’t seem reasonable anymore Not when all I want to do is hold her, protect her, to know she’s safe in my arms.

But tonight, it’s late when I’m finally able to join her in her room. I expect to find her already curled up on her side, her face buried in my pillow, seeking my scent even in sleep the way she does so often lately. So I’m a little anxious to find she’s not there.

My frantic search leads me to the kitchen where I find her pouring over the papers she has spread out on the kitchen table. And she’s wearing the look of someone who has been staring at the same paragraph for thirty minutes without reading it.

I quietly make tea, doing my best not to disturb her. It’s not until I set a cup in front of her and sit down across from her with mine that she looks up.

“What are you actually thinking about?” I probe gently, knowing she might be too tired to talk about it.

“You. And the baby. And something I don’t know how to ask.” She admits quickly, no coaxing required.

I wrap both hands around my cup to steady myself though my thoughts are racing, wondering what it could be.” Then take your time.” I breathe out.

I’ve been carrying a question of my own for weeks. One I don’t know how to ask either. I’ve never been shy about asking for what I want before. In fact I’ve demanded it. With Skye, all I want to do is kneel at her feet and do her bidding, what I want for myself be damned. Still, it hasn’t stopped me from thinking about it, obsessing over it, really.

Since before the name conversation. Since before the night we said I love you and I lay awake afterward doing the math of what comes next-I’ve known what I want.

I’ve known for a lot longer than that actually. The shape of it clarified somewhere around the time Benji became Benji in my mind rather than Skye’s baby or the child-a specific person with a specific name whom I am already, inconveniently, in love with before he’s even arrived.

I want to be his father. Or hers, if the case may be.

Not in the abstract, not someday with some child-this child. I want to be the one who is here every morning. The one who knows his particular preferences and his moods and the way he sleeps. I want to be the one he reaches for.

I’ve wanted to say this to Skye. And I’ve been finding reasons not to. Not because I’m afraid of her answer. I’ve watched her watch me with Benji’s kicks and I think I know, roughly, what her answer might be.

But I’m afraid of adding pressure. Of being another man who arrives with what he wants and puts it in front of her and expects her to figure out what to do with it. She’s had enough of that. She’s eight months pregnant and building a new life and still managing the complicated business of co-existing with Jaxon for the sake of a child who hasn’t been born yet.

I’ve been waiting for the right moment. The right moment appears to be 11 PM on a Tuesday with the tea still

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“Yes.” She exhales. “Okay.”

And just like that, I have a family.

Cara Anderson Author

Thank you for reading!

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