When Justin returned, he was carrying a paper bag of food and a small Christmas tree that probably came from a pharmacy.

I must have looked like a wreck because he dropped everything and came over to me. "What's wrong?"

"This is my fault. I should have checked her crib before I left the room."

"It was an accident. That d.a.m.n bulb fell off your sweater. You didn't see it happen."

"I know, but I can't help feeling like if I'd just done something differently..."

"What are you talking about? You saved her life."

"Yes. But only because I was lucky enough to wake up when I did. I can't even imagine what today would be like if I hadn't."

"Don't think about that. G.o.d was with her. She's okay. She'll be okay. It wasn't your fault."

"I just can't help feeling like a horrible mother."

"Listen to me. Remember that night we stayed up the whole night talking at the beach house that first summer? You told me you felt like teaching wasn't what you were meant to do, that there was something else out there you'd be better at?"

"Yes."

"I'll never forget this past summer when I came home unexpectedly to find you and Bea there. You were in that f.u.c.ked-up state of disarray. I'd never witnessed anyone give of themselves so fully for the good of another human being like that. There isn't one moment of any day where you don't put her first. You don't think about yourself, your own mental well-being, getting a break. I'd watch you feeding her sometimes and wish that I'd had a mother like you. Not so I could suck on your t.i.ts." He winked. "But because of how nurturing you are. When we were growing up, I always thought you were pretty amazing, but it doesn't even come close to how I see you now. So, don't you dare. Don't you dare call yourself a horrible mother, Amelia Payne. That thing you were meant to do that you couldn't figure out? It was to be a mother to that little girl. That's your calling. And you're doing a d.a.m.n good job."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, so thankful for his rea.s.surance, which just basically talked me off of a mental ledge. "Thank you."

He walked over to the bags and handed me a Dunkin Donuts iced coffee along with a Chipotle burrito bowl. "Now, eat...before she wakes up."

After we finished our food, Justin plugged the small tree into an outlet in the corner of the room. This was as good as Christmas Eve was going to get under the circ.u.mstances.

When Bea finally woke up, we got a little Christmas miracle. Justin was looking down at her when she finally smiled for the first time since the choking incident. It was the best gift we could have ever asked for.

"Merry Christmas, b.u.mblebee," Justin said. You could feel the sense of relief in the air. It may have been one smile out of many, but it was an important one. To us, it meant she was going to be okay.

Justin pulled up Pandora on his phone and streamed Christmas music until it got late. The hospital brought in two cots that we set up on each side of Bea's bed.

It was past 11PM. Justin was exhausted from his trip and dozed off along with Bea. I still wasn't able to relax enough to shut my eyes. I wouldn't be happy until we were home.

With both of them asleep, I played on my phone for a bit, going back to the text message chain between Justin and me to see exactly what I'd written him from the ambulance. I was so stressed, I had no recollection of what I'd typed in those horrific moments. That was when I noticed a message that had come in from him earlier that night, a text I hadn't noticed due to everything that happened with Bea.

I don't like fighting with you. I love you. In case there was any doubt.

The time of the message was shortly before 4AM. That was almost exactly the time I had woken up right before Bea's wheezing started. I had figured that my waking up out of the blue was random, but it must have been the text that interrupted my slumber.

As I looked over at Justin sleeping peacefully, my heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest. Not because he'd finally said those three words I'd longed to hear. It was the other realization. If it weren't for that text, I wouldn't have woken up.

I didn't save Bea's life.

Justin did.

CHAPTER 22.

Bea was released from the hospital on Christmas Day. We were overjoyed to take her home after the doctors officially ruled out any brain injury. It had even started snowing on the ride back from Providence to Newport, making it truly a white Christmas.

Justin would be staying with us for a couple of days before meeting up with the tour in London for the start of the European leg. I wouldn't allow myself to get sad over his leaving yet, since this was stolen time anyway.

Christmas night, we sat around the tree with Bea and helped her open her presents. I saved the small box that Justin had previously mailed to open last. When we finally got to it, Justin watched anxiously as I ripped open the tape and removed the generous amount of bubble-wrap.

Inside was a small wooden guitar that sat vertically atop a cylinder base. The bottom also opened, and you could store small items inside of it. On top of the guitar was a hand-painted black and yellow b.u.mblebee. It was made to look like the bee had just landed on the instrument. Justin took it from me and wound the bottom. The guitar began to slowly spin around to a song I didn't recognize.

"I have a friend back in New York who designs custom music boxes," he said. "I asked him to make me one for her. The bee represents the fact that she's always with me no matter where I am."

So extremely touched, I paid special attention to the song but after several seconds of listening, still didn't recognize it. "What song is that? It's beautiful."

"It's the melody of something I'm writing. This guy was able to program it into the box. I'm still working on the lyrics, though."

"That's so amazing. This is the most thoughtful gift you could have given her."

"It's just something to make me feel like I'm with her when I can't be." He looked down at Bea as she hypnotically watched the guitar spin round and round. He stared at her for a while before he said, "What do you get for someone you can never repay...for all she's taught you, all she's given you?"

"I think you taking on the responsibility of being her father is a pretty big gift."

He kissed Bea on the head. "That gift is all mine."

Smiling at the both of them, I asked a question I'd been wondering ever since he came home. "What changed?"

"What do you mean?"

"Before you left, it seemed like you were still unsure about what your role in her life was going to be. What changed?"

He stared down at the music box for a while then up at me. "My doubts were never about her, just whether I was worthy of her love. I didn't want to be a disappointment to someone that meant so much to me. But being away from her made me realize that she'd already become a part of me. My fear of inadequacy aside, she was already my daughter in every way that mattered. Stepping away helped me see that even more clearly."

Earlier, I'd explained to Justin my realization about the timing of his text. He refused to take responsibility for saving Bea's life, insisting I deserved all of the credit for that. I hadn't addressed the actual subject of his text until now.

I leaned my head against his shoulder, so grateful to have him home with us, even if just for a couple of days. "I love you, Justin. You know, I'd been so fixated on the fact that you hadn't used those three words toward me yet. I'd placed so much importance on hearing you tell me you loved me. By the time you finally did-in that text-it came as no surprise, because deep down, I already knew. You've taught me that love isn't about words. It's a series of actions. You've shown your love for me in how you look at me, how you treat me and most of all, in how much you love my daughter as your own."

He leaned in to kiss me then said, "I love you both very much. That night, I realized how foolish it was that I hadn't said those words. But the truth is, it almost felt unnatural to announce it, because it's not like I'd just recently fallen in love with you. It's something that's been there for years. I never stopped loving you. There may have been times when I tried to hate you, but even then, I never stopped loving you."

"I never stopped loving you, either. It was wrong of me to just a.s.sume that you didn't love me because you didn't say it."

He wriggled his brows. "You know what they say about a.s.suming things..."

"You end up in a p.o.r.no theater watching a.n.a.l?" I chuckled.

"Good girl. That is correct." He winked.

Having gotten no sleep since Bea's ordeal began, I was quickly losing steam. The three of us turned in early for the night. Putting Bea back into the crib alone tonight was just not something I was ready for yet. Instead, she slept right in between Justin and me-her parents. I could definitely get used to that.

We had one more day with him-the day after Christmas. Then, Justin would be leaving us again, flying out of New York to London.

It felt like a dream to wake up to the smell of Justin's coffee fusion brewing in the kitchen.

Bea was still sleeping when I went downstairs and snuck up behind him, looping my arms underneath his. My braless chest pressed through my nightgown into his broad back. We both gazed out at the frigid waves rolling through the wintry ocean. I was already pining for summer, not only because of the balmy weather, but because Justin would be home with us by then.

He turned around and covered my mouth with a hungry kiss. Now that my nerves had calmed down over Bea, my s.e.xual desire was slowly escalating to a normal level. Justin's hair was sticking up in all directions, and a small beard was growing out. As it scratched my face in a pleasurable way, I felt wetness between my legs. Pressing my body into his erection, I took a deep breath in, savoring his masculine smell that was mixed with the aroma of the percolating coffee.

I wanted him more than I wanted my morning cup of Joe, and that was saying something. Surviving the next few months without him wasn't going to be easy, but at least, I knew now where things stood between us. He stopped kissing me and caressed my face, looking like he had something on his mind.

"I have a couple of questions for you," he said.

"Okay..."

"I was thinking...I would love it if you and Bea could come to the last show in the spring. It'll be in New York, won't be too far for you to travel. I can book you a flight if you don't want to drive. Then, we can all come home together in my car. It would be nice if you could at least see me on the big stage once before it's over. What do you think? We could get noise reducing headphones for her if it's too loud."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. I've been thinking that I should at least get to see you on tour for one show. New York would be the perfect location."

"Good. I'll make all the arrangements."

"What's the other question?"

"What are the chances I could f.u.c.k you raw on that counter before she wakes up?"

I hesitated. I wanted him so badly, but my period had just come this morning. I was never comfortable doing the deed on the heaviest day of my cycle.

"I really want that right now, but..."

Disappointment flashed across his face. "What?"

"I stabbed myself...pretty heavily."

Shutting his eyes in disappointment, he grumbled, "s.h.i.t. I need you so badly right now." He looked down at the ground then up at me. "I don't mind...if you don't. I'll stab you so good myself, you won't even think about the other wound."

As much as I wanted to, I just couldn't.

I pulled on the edge of his pants, taking a peek at the rock hard erection inside. "I have a better idea."

"Oh yeah?"

Dropping to my knees, I slowly undid the string of his navy pajama pants.

Leaning his elbows back against the counter, Justin bent his head back and surrendered without argument, except to laugh under his breath as he said, "Or...we could do this. f.u.c.k. Yeah."

Admiring the cut V of his lower abs and the thin line of hair that ran down the middle, I said, "I've always wanted to go down on you. That time we left the p.o.r.no theater, remember that? I couldn't have you back then, but I fantasized that whole night about sucking you off."

He ma.s.saged my hair. "I'll never forget that night. It was so d.a.m.n hot to see you getting turned on during that movie. I wanted nothing more than to lift you on top of me and f.u.c.k that pretty little pink p.u.s.s.y right in the little red theater. I wanted you so f.u.c.king badly that night, so much it hurt. Almost as much as I want you now."

His breath hitched when I took his c.o.c.k out. I opened wide and wrapped my lips around it. He let out a hot, throaty sound and was already wet the moment my tongue took its first swirl around his crown.

"Holy s.h.i.t," he hissed. "That's good. Your mouth on my c.o.c.k, Amelia...nothing like it. This feels like a dream."

He tasted warm and salty as I sucked, rubbing my palm along his shaft. He gripped the back of my hair to guide my mouth as it bobbed up and down over his c.o.c.k.

At one point, I began to take him as deeply as I could without choking. As I intentionally squeezed the back of my throat around his c.o.c.k, I snuck a glance up at his reaction as he muttered, "Oh, you evil b.i.t.c.h. That is so f.u.c.king good." I repeated the movement again and again. His eyes were closed so tightly that he looked like his mind had travelled to another dimension.

My own moans vibrated over his c.o.c.k as he suddenly bucked his hips and came hard down my throat. Pulling my hair, he groaned, "s.h.i.t. Take it all, baby. Take it all," as I drank in the hot spurts of c.u.m shooting down my throat.

I looked up at him seductively as I swallowed every last drop.

When there was nothing left but his panting, he said, "f.u.c.k. You didn't hold back. I always knew you liked cream with your coffee, but d.a.m.n. It was hot to see how much you enjoyed it, too." He released a long breath as he adjusted his pants. "I already want to do it again. Is this a trick to get me to stay or something? Because it just might f.u.c.king work."

"Really? If that's the case, my mouth is ready."

"Oh, we will be doing that again before I leave. That...was mind blowing. Where the h.e.l.l did you learn to suck like that?" He shook his head fast. "Never mind. I don't really want to know." Wiping the corners of my mouth, he asked, "What the heck did I do to deserve that anyway?"

"You saved my daughter's life. You deserved the b.l.o.w. .j.o.b of your life."

He squeezed me close. "Quick, run out to the beach and jump in the choppy ocean."

I squinted my eyes. "Why?"

"That way I can save you. Maybe you'll let me take that a.s.s later."

Justin spent a record amount of time that afternoon trying to get Bea to say "Dada."

She babbled a lot in general, but hadn't used the letter D as much as the letters B or M. She also knew how to say "bye bye."

I watched the two of them from the kitchen as Justin sat with Bea on the couch, trying to get her to repeat his words.

"Say Da-da." He pointed to himself. "I'm Da-da."

"Ba-ba," she said.

He repeated, "Da-da."

"Ba-ba."

"Da-da."