Cupping her face in my hands, I leaned in and took her mouth in mine and closed my eyes, cherishing every movement of our tongues, every taste. I didn’t want anything to change. Everything was perfect just the way it was, without anything happening to turn both our worlds upside down.

Impulsively lifting Sadie up, I carried her into her room and placed her on the bed. She reached over to my waist, undoing my buckle and throwing the belt to the side. My rigid cock sprang forward as I pushed my boxers down and lowered myself down to her. Within seconds, she’d spread her legs wide open for me and I was inside her.

Sex with Sadie was different each and every time. Sometimes it was rough, other times slow and sensual. This time was pure passion, a manifestation of the words I’d just admitted to her minutes earlier. The feel of her warm flesh against my bare cock as always was almost too much to bear. I lasted all of a few minutes before I lost control, emptying my cum inside her faster than I wanted.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” I said as I continued to move back and forth inside her.

It pleased me to feel her muscles tighten around my cock seconds later. There was nothing more beautiful than feeling her come all around me.

With my dick still buried inside her, I muttered against her neck, “What did I ever do before you?”

“I hope you never have to remember.” She smiled.

We held each other for a long time, and Sadie actually nodded off soon after that. She must have had a long day. My plan had been to return home by eleven, at which point I’d call an Uber to take Magdalene home.

It was 9:00 pm now, and I had no idea how long Sadie would be asleep. I knew this might be my only opportunity to do something I really needed to—as wrong as it felt and as much as I didn’t want to have to do it.

Slowly and carefully lifting myself from the bed, I walked over to her kitchen and looked around. I found a stash of Ziploc bags and took two out of the box.

Quietly venturing into her bathroom, I swiped her toothbrush before placing it into one of the bags. Opening the drawer below, I grabbed a wad of hair off her brush and placed it in the other bag. My understanding was that hair needed to be pulled from the root for DNA testing, so I doubted it would take but hoped that at least the toothbrush would suffice.

Jesus.

Am I really doing this?

I felt like a thief.

A piece of hair and a used toothbrush might not be of any monetary value, but what I’d done was stealing nonetheless—I’d stolen Sadie’s right to privacy. And I’d felt like shit since the moment I’d done it.

Standing in the post-office lobby, I hung my head as I leaned on the counter and blew out a shaky breath. I’d just mailed off the DNA testing samples I’d collected and couldn’t possibly walk home yet. My head pounded, my chest felt tight, and I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Normally, I’d take Motrin for a headache, but I didn’t deserve any relief. I was a piece of shit who deserved to feel like someone had chiseled into his temples.

Even though I’d been sick about what I’d done since yesterday, it still hadn’t stopped me from being the first one in line at the post office when it opened this morning.

When Sadie had told me about her egg donation, she’d said she never wanted to know who the recipients of her generosity were. In fact, she’d made sure the entire process was anonymous before going through with it. And for some reason, I didn’t think she’d ever had contact with her own birth parents. At least she’d never mentioned it. So I was pretty sure she didn’t want to know if she had children out there.

But I had to know.

Plus, what were the odds that Sadie was our donor? The fertility center had never even told us what state the person was from, only that she was a US citizen. There are over three hundred million people in this country. I’d have a better shot of winning the damn lottery. Sadie would probably think I’d lost my mind for even thinking it was a possibility—three hundred million people in the country, and my daughter just happens to write her biological mother a letter. The more I thought about it, the more I realized she’d probably be right—I was a little nutty for even considering it could happen.

The fucked-up thing was that I’d never once wondered about who my daughter’s biological mother might be before the other day, even though I knew she was out there somewhere. I’d thought a lot about that over the last forty-eight hours. Why was I so compelled to know now when I hadn’t been the least bit interested in knowing just a few days ago? The answer was obvious—because it was Sadie. But what was I hoping for with these results?

Did I want Sadie to be Birdie’s biological mother?

Or did I want to go back to not knowing who the egg donor was?

I grappled with those questions the most. Deep down, even though I didn’t want to admit it, I think a part of me wanted Sadie to be Birdie’s mother. My daughter lost her mom at such a tender young age, and I’d give anything so she could have her mother again. But did that anything I’d give include forcing a woman I loved to acknowledge a child she’d never planned to know?

I blinked a few times.

A woman I loved.

Did I love Sadie?

My shoulders slumped, and I let out a heavy sigh of defeat.

Fuck.

I did.

I went and fell in goddamn love with her.

Great. Just great. I betrayed a woman I love.

I was pretty sure I was never going to forgive myself. But that was okay. I deserved to beat myself up over what I’d done . . . and then some. That wasn’t even a question. What was most important now was, would Sadie ever forgive me?

CHAPTER 26

SADIE

Sebastian had been acting odd the last few days.

He was quieter than usual and seemed really distracted. Tonight I’d cooked dinner for him and Birdie at their house, and then the three of us took Marmaduke to the dog park. As usual, Birdie talked nonstop, keeping us entertained with stories from school today. But once she’d gone to bed, it became really noticeable how far away Sebastian’s mind was.

I’d just told him all about an article I was working on for my column, where I’d interview men and women after their first blind date with each other and see how different their answers were to a set group of questions. So often, one person thinks things went great, while the other leaves feeling like the date was a complete bust. I’d rambled on for a solid ten minutes, and my gut told me that Sebastian hadn’t actually heard one word. He was looking right at me, but his eyes weren’t focused. So I decided to test exactly how far his mind had wandered.

“So . . . ,” I said. “We thought it might be fun to ask the post-date questions naked. You know, to keep the article interesting and all.”

I stopped speaking and waited for Sebastian to answer. He blinked a few times, and it seemed like he just figured out it was his turn to speak.

“Oh. That sounds great.”

I frowned. “Yeah, it’s perfect. I won’t sleep with more than two or three of them. So don’t worry.”

He started to nod. “Okay, great . . . Wait . . . what did you just say?”

“Oh, hi, Sebastian. It’s nice of you to join me in this conversation.”

“What are you talking about?”