Author's note :Hello everyone! I'm back with the chapter which I think you've all been waiting for!
You have NO IDEA the PRESSURE I put on myself for this one... I hope you'll all like it! It's making me sooooooooo nervous!
Don't forget to review, alright? If I didn't write it the way you were seeing it happen well... I'm sorry.
Chapter 7
Sam chewed on the inside of his cheek, nervously drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He had no idea how long he'd been sitting in his truck, staring at her front door. He was annoyed with himself. When he'd climbed into his truck, his intention had been to drive to Andy's house, knock on her door and talk to her. Quick and simple.
But something was keeping him from doing so.
He was scared to death.
Not of talking to her. No, he knew exactly what he had to say. He'd had over a year to run the words over and over in his head.
No, he was afraid of what would come out of her mouth. Every time he'd thought about this conversation while he was under, he'd imagined her furious with him, screaming at him. Hell, she had every right to be angry with him. He knew how to deal with her when she was mad.
But now, the whole situation was completely different from what he'd imagined. Things had changed. She had a kid.
Somehow, when Shaw had told him she had a baby, he'd had a hard time imagining her as a mother. But his whole perception had changed the second he'd seen her with the baby in her amrs. And then, he'd gone to her place to help her father and Epstein build the swing set.
That afternoon, when he'd gone inside the house to use the bathroom, he'd found the baby crying in his crib. Andy must not have heard him over the noise outside, so he'd thought it was only natural for him to bring him to his mom. He'd found the baby sitting in his crib, his little arms reaching out towards him. He'd picked him up and walked him around the room, patting his back and whispering soothing words into his little ear. Once the baby had calmed down, he'd decided to go ahead and change his diaper. At that moment, as he'd been looking at Matty, it had really hit him. Studying the baby's face, all he could see was his mother. He had Andy's brown hair, huge brown eyes and her gorgeous smile.
She was a mother now. She wasn't the young rookie cop he'd gotten to know and love over a year ago. Maybe she wouldn't care less about what he had to say.
Sam groaned in frustration and shook his head, trying to clear out his thoughts. With one last breath, he opened his door, forcing himself out of the truck, and walked over to her front door.
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Andy walked down the stairs, carrying a large laundry basket filled with clean baby clothes. She dropped the basket on the coffee table in the living room and sat down on the couch, her eyes settling on the TV as she started absently folding her son's tiny clothes.
She frowned slightly when she heard a knock at the door and checked the time on the clock, wondering who'd show up at her door at two. She rarely got visitors in the middle of the afternoon. She walked over to the door and opened it, only to find a very nervous Sam standing on her porch. She raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Hey!"
"Hey." He breathed back. "Is this a bad time?"
She shook her head, trying to get over the initial shock of seeing him. "NNo! Matty's taking a nap upstairs." She opened the door wider and gave him a nervous smile. "Would you like to come in?"
Sam nodded his head and followed her inside, shutting the door behind him. She stood in front of him, playing with the hem of her black shirt nervously. "Would you like something to drink? A beer, orange juice, water?"
"No, thanks." He stayed there, staring at her, as if he was waiting for her to say something.
She sighed and walked around the couch, motioning for him to follow her. She sat back in front of the laundry basket. "So… I'm guessing you want to have that talk now?" She asked him, keeping her hands busy with the baby clothes.
Sam sat on the edge of the armchair to her left. He put his elbows on his knees and folded his hands together, watching her as she folded the clothes and piled them up on the coffee table. "Yeah. I'm here to talk." He took a deep breath and kept going. "Actually, I wanted to explain myself. I... I want to talk about that night."
Andy stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue.
The fact that she wasn't saying anything made him think she knew exaclty what he was talking about. He licked his lips, trying to find the right words to start with. "I know it was a long time ago, but I've got to get it out." He paused and took a long breath. "Andy, you have no idea how much I'm sorry for what I did. That night, when I came to your apartment, I… I didn't come over for… I hadn't planned what… happened… between us. "He stuttered nervously. 'Fuck, this is coming out all wrong.' He thought, wincing as he tried to put some sense into his words. "That night, I went over to your place to explain myself and to apologize." This was a lot more difficult than he'd imagined. "But then, you opened that door and I… lost it. I'm sorry."
Andy kept her eyes glued to the tiny t-shirt she'd been folding and unfolding absently as she tried to process what Sam was saying. Was he sorry he'd acted like a jackass? Was he sorry that he slept with her? Or was he sorry for leaving her bed the second after he was done?
"Andy?" Sam watched her worriedly. He was still waiting for her to get mad at him, to throw the laundry basket at his face. "Andy?" He repeated, trying to get her to say something.
She let out a shaky breath and reached in the basket to grab another piece of clothing. "What are you apologizing for?"
Sam frowned, not sure if he'd heard her question right. "What?"
"What are you sorry for exactly." She said in a stronger voice.
Sam opened his mouth to answer, but shut it before anything could come out. What was he sorry for? "Everything."
Andy let out an irritated breath and stood up, throwing the tiny jeans back into the basket. "Okay, so let me make sure I get this. You're sorry for acting like an ass, for sleeping with me, for leaving me behind like some unnecessary trash and then, for going MIA for over a year. Is that it?" Her face was red with anger, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.
Sam stood up and frowned. "Unnecessary Trash?" He winced and shook his head. "Andy, I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I panicked, alright? I was terrified at the thought of not being able to see you every day. And then, I realized I'd just made everything worse. So I ran. I ran like a fucking coward."
Andy wiped a lone tear angrily and threw everything she'd neatly folded back into the laundry basket. Sam took a step closer but stopped when she raised her hand out, stopping him. "Don't."
"Andy…"
"No, you know what? Just… shut up." She looked at him, her eyes filled with anger and pain. "While you were gone, moaning over the fact that you'd had a taste and wanted more, I was all ALONE, wondering what I'd done wrong. Feeling like some whore you'd just fucked and left the second you'd had what you wanted."
Sam pinched his lips and closed the distance between them, pushing her hand out of the way. He took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "I never, NEVER wanted you to feel that way." He told her, his voice shaking with emotion. He bore his eyes into hers, trying to make her see what he felt. "I'm never going to forgive myself for making you feel that way." He added.
Andy closed her eyes and slowly pulled his hands away from her face. She felt completely drained, as if she hadn't slept for over a year. She nodded her head and sat down on the couch, wiping the tears from her cheeks.
Sam let out a long breath and let his eyes wander over the pictures hanging on living room the walls. Almost all of them were of Matty. The baby sitting in his highchair, covered with food. Andy with her arms wrapped around him. Matty holding onto a stuffed dog. One really caught his attention. It was a black and white picture of Andy, looking the happiest she'd ever been as she showed off her huge stomach. He stared at the picture, his mind spinning a thousand miles per hour.
He pinched his lips together as realization washed over him. He pushed the laundry basket to the side and sat down on the coffee table in front of her, needing to be able to see her face while doing this. He folded his hands together and sighed, his eyes never leaving her.
"Andy… Who is Matty's father?" He asked her, his voice almost a whisper.
She looked at him, shock evident on her face. "What?"
He cocked his head to the side, holding her gaze. "Andy, I'm not stupid. I did the math." From the look on her face, he knew that if it wasn't for Matty sleeping upstairs, she'd probably be running out of the house right now. "Is Matty mine?"
Andy didn't have to answer as she scrunched her eyes shot and hid her face inside her hands.
Sam let out a long breath through his nose and looked up towards the second floor, an unexpected wave of anger and hurt washing over him. He'd been back for over a month now, and she hadn't said anything to him. Hadn't told him he was a father. "When were you planning on telling me?" He asked her, trying to control his voice.
She shrugged her shoulders but kept her face hidden behind her hands.
Then it hit him. She was ashamed. She hadn't told anyone about him being the father of her baby. Nobody knew, even his closest friends, whom she worked with every day. "Were you even going to tell me?"
That made her look at him. "Yes. I was going to tell you." Her eyes were red and her cheeks wet from crying. What was she supposed to tell him? That she was waiting for the right time? That she wasn't ready? That she was scared to death he'd leave them and hurt them both?
"Why did you tell everyone you didn't know who the father was?"
The question seemed to her by surprise. "What was I supposed to tell them? Hey, everyone, I'm pregnant. And by the way, it's Sam's. He showed up at my place one night, fucked me and then went under.
Sam sent her a dark look. "I know what I did, and I hate myself for it. But I had the right to know I had a son."
She let out a sad chuckle. "And what? You would've dropped the whole operation to be with us?"
"Yes." He answered, not losing a beat.
She looked down at her hands again.
"Who else knows?"
"Dov."
He nodded his head. He didn't know WHAT to feel. Happiness? Relief? Anger? Regret? He'd already missed nine months of his son's life. Nine whole months of not being able to hold him in his arms, to put him to sleep, to make him smile. "Can I see him?"
"He's sleeping."
"I just want to see him, Andy."
She sighed and then nodded her head slowly. "Okay." She whispered, still unable to meet his eyes.
He stood up and slowly made his way upstairs, thankful that Andy was letting him do this alone. He walked down the short corridor and stopped in front of the nursery door, taking a second to compose himself. He then pushed the door open and silently walked towards the crib. He felt his heart clench as he REALLY got to look at his son for the first time.
The baby was sleeping on his back, his tiny hands raised above his head. He must have fallen asleep with his pacifier, since it was halfway into his mouth. He was frowning in his sleep, the exact same frown he was used to seeing on Andy's face when she was thinking too much. He studied every detail on his son's face, grinning as he realized the boy had his nose. When he'd first seen Matty, he'd thought he looked like Andy. But now, it was like he was seeing a completely different baby. This boy looked like him. He was a Swarek, there was no denying it.
He lifted his hand up and tentatively stroked the baby's dark hair, marveling at its softness. Right then, he knew he'd never loved anyone as much as he loved his son. He pulled his hand back as the baby let out a small whimper, not wanting to wake him from his nap. With one last look, he walked out of the nursery and slowly made his way back downstairs.
Sam frowned, finding the living room empty, the laundry basket still filled with unfolded clothes. "Andy?" He went into the kitchen and sighed in irritation. She wasn't there either. He walked over to the sink, letting out a long breath as he glanced out the window. She was in the backyard, sitting on one of the swings.
He walked out of the house and joined her, giving her a small grin when she looked up at him. "He's still asleep."
She nodded her head. "Yeah. He should wake up in about a half hour, if you want to stay." Her voice was still raspy from crying.
Sam pinched his lips together and shook his head. "I think I'm gonna go home." He told her, not missing the disappointment he saw washing over her face before she looked down again. "But I'd like to come by tomorrow." He added.
She cleared her throat and shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, if you want to."
"Of course I want to." He told her, hoping he'd made himself clear. "Andy." He pointed his fingers back and forth between them. "This is not over. We still need to talk."
"I know." She stood up from the swing and walked back inside the house, leaving him behind.
Soooo was it good enough?
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Tanya
