One Last Time: Andino + Haven - A Companion

by Bethany-Kris

  “Good luck, man,” John said quietly.

  Andino dragged in a heavy breath. “Yeah, thanks.”

  They were going to need it.

  Once he’d hung up the call with John, Andino cut the engine on the car and glanced sideways to stare at the sign on the brick building. The Haven, it read. Written in hot pink neon lights that weren’t currently turned on, the sign had been one of the few things his wife decided to carry on from her old club to the new one.

  He rarely came here.

  Frankly, he knew better.

  Haven didn’t work as many nights at the club as she used to—if there were issues that needed handled or paperwork, she came in during the day, called meetings, or whatever else. She also had two managers and an accountant that handled business for her. He knew sometimes that bothered her when she wanted to be more hands-on than she actually was.

  But that came with being a mom.

  And a wife.

  Not that it mattered or made a difference. The club was just as successful as her previous one. There wasn’t the same draw for patrons—it wasn’t a strip joint; not that he would have said anything one way or another. Yet, the place managed to draw in a wide crowd from various backgrounds and ages.

  Shit.

  Even he couldn’t do that.

  However, despite the fact he tried to give Haven and her business a wide berth of space—then it never looked like her club was anything but her club—he didn’t think she would mind that he was there today. Stepping out of his vehicle, Andino fixed his blazer and scanned the surrounding parking lot and side street.

  Mostly empty.

  A quiet city day.

  Nothing out of the ordinary.

  The enforcers that would usually keep an eye on Andino from a safe distance weren’t even anywhere to be seen, but that was by his own choice. Even his wife’s enforcer wouldn’t be following them around today.

  It was a private thing.

  Procedure day.

  Turning back to the car, Andino almost thought to open the rear door to let his pup out. Sometimes, though Snaps hadn’t been on one of these rides in over a year since his passing, Andino caught himself behaving as though his old companion was still around. He missed his dog like nobody would ever know.

  Especially in these moments.

  Sighing, he decided to leave the car running as he headed for the club. Certainly no one would bother it here—he might not come around, but that didn’t mean people weren’t aware of just who he was when he did show up.

  Inside the club, Andino found the place quiet and lit up. Chairs rested on tables while the hardwood floors gleamed underneath, freshly waxed. All the neon signs inside were also turned off, the DJ booth had been shut down, and the bar was empty. The few workers who came in during the day to clean, stock the bar, and whatever else barely even noticed Andino passing them by.

  That was fine.

  He wasn’t their boss.

  Soon, he found his wife inside her office. Flipping through what looked to be an order sheet, Haven didn’t even look up from her work as she said, “Remember, your managers are the ones you need to deal with if you need—”

  “But I don’t work here, babe.”

  A smile crept over her pretty lips. Haven’s head tipped up, and her gaze landed on him where he leaned in her doorway. Her stare drifted down over him, taking in his three-piece suit and settling on the grin playing at his mouth.

  “Hey,” he murmured.

  Haven smiled a little wider. “Hey yourself.”

  “You busy?”

  “Aren’t we always?”

  She made a good point.

  Shifting to stand straight without leaning, Andino shoved his hands into his pockets and gave his wife a wink from the doorway. There was something about the sight of her in a black pencil skirt, heels that made her legs look fantastic, and a loose blouse that hinted at her cleavage while she worked behind a desk that made him want to cross the office and show her every wicked thought in his mind at the moment.

  He didn’t, though.

  Couldn’t.

  “I thought you might want a drive to the clinic,” Andino said, “instead of us just meeting up there today.”

  Haven gave him a look. “I thought you had work to do today?”

  “Cleared most of it away. This is more important. I can take a day.”

  “I love you, Andino.”

  Yeah.

  He loved her, too.

  More than she would ever know.

  TEN

  “Here, let me help you—”

  “I got it,” Haven whispered.

  The nurse gave her a small smile, but nodded all the same and backed off to let Haven climb up on the uncomfortable procedure table on her own. The table with the stirrups ready for her feet and a view of the wall of mirrors opposite to her current position. Those mirrors were a lie, though, because she knew they were windows into the procedure room for the doctor and other staff that would be involved today.

  “We’ve gone over the checklist, so you know everything that’s going to happen from here,” the nurse said, “but the doctor did want to confirm a few things that we’d spoken about at your last appointment.”

  Haven laid back on the table—or did they consider it a bed?—and stared up at the ceiling overhead. “Now?”

  “We can wait until after, if you’d prefer.”

  Well …

  “Let’s just get it over with,” she replied.

  Then, her husband would come in.

  They could get this started.

  “You’re firm on this being the last round, correct?”

  Haven let out a shaky exhale. “Yes.”

  “You were informed that the embryos we’ll be implanting today are—”

  “Yes.”

  The nurse glanced up—Haven caught it out of the corner of her eye but didn’t bother to turn and look straight on at the woman. What did it matter?

  They had done this already.

  Many times.

  She was tired of the same fucking questions. Exhausted from the lack of results. Stressed out to the goddamn max about this day because it was the last one. Excuse her for not wanting to go through yet another round of questions and answers that had already been asked and answered.

  “Would you like your husband to come in, now?” the nurse asked, her tone softer.

  Haven nodded but said nothing.

  “Okay. I’ll go get him.”

  “Thank you.”

  Before long, Andino came to sit on the stool beside Haven’s bed. He rested his chin on her arm while his fingers found hers and wrapped tight. She turned her head and caught his gaze. His little smile had her answering it with her own.

  “Hey,” she whispered.

  That gaze of his—always so intense and full of love when it leveled on her—took her to an entirely different place. She loved him for that.

  More than she could explain.

  “Hey,” he replied.

  “One last time, right?”

  Andino nodded. “One last time, babe. I was thinking …”

  “Do you do that often?”

  He bared his teeth, muttering, “Smart ass.”

  She was.

  And he loved it, too.

  “What were you thinking?”

  “Giovanni Andino,” he said. “For a name.”

  Right.

  Because if this worked, they were guaranteed a boy. Wasn’t that what the doctor had said at their last appointment? All the embryos left were genetically male.

  “I like that,” Haven said. “Might be more than one.”

  Her husband chuckled. “Giovanni for the first, then.”

  A flutter of worry slipped through Haven’s heart. “But what if—”

  “No buts. No what ifs. None of it.”

  She let out a hard breath.

  Andino leaned in and kissed her cheek. It was enough to settle the raging war of emotions in her heart. Peop
le couldn’t possibly know unless they were the ones going through the same thing as her, but this wasn’t easy.

  Not on the mind.

  The body.

  Or the heart.

  Nothing about infertility was easy.

  “Giovanni Andino,” he told her. “No matter what.”

  Haven nodded. “No matter what.”

  That would be his name.

  ELEVEN

  “Daddy?”

  Andino glanced up from the rim of the glass of cognac he’d been swirling and sipping to see his oldest daughter lingering just beyond his office doorway. A smile crept over his lips as her big eyes grew wide, and in silent question, she raised the item in her hands for him to see a little better.

  A book.

  “Would you?” Lynn asked.

  Shit.

  She didn’t even need to ask, really.

  “Yeah, baby, of course. Come here.”

  “Yay,” Lynn crowed before she sped across his office. He couldn’t even hear the pattering of her feet; that’s how quiet she was. “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “Always,” he told her.

  His arms were already open to pull his oldest daughter into his lap. Her sisters were probably still sleeping soundly in their bed. He swore from the time Lynn learned to talk and walk, and they could no longer contain her to a crib because she became big enough to move into a toddler bed. His girl constantly came to look for him at night. More than once, she crawled into bed between her mother and father.

  “You know,” Andino told her, resting his chin on the top of her head while he situated the book in front of them, so he could see it well enough to read, “someday, you might have to read yourself a book—what will you do then?”

  “Why wouldn’t you read it for me?”

  “Well, you’d be able to read it yourself.”

  “But I like it when you read it, Daddy.”

  Andino grinned, and then kissed Lynn on the top of her curly head. Hell, he would read her books over video chat when she was away in college if that’s what she wanted, but he figured they had time to work all that out. “Daddy will always read to you whenever you ask, I promise.”

  Tipping her head back so she could stare up at him, Lynn smiled sweetly. “I know.”

  There were a lot of things people just assumed about Andino based on appearance or what they thought they knew. He was fine with letting them think he was a cold asshole with a heart of stone—it was the ones he loved the most who knew exactly what was truly in Andino’s heart and how much he adored them.

  Including his little girls.

  Resting his cheek along his daughter’s head, he started reading the story about the little duck who had somehow managed to get lost from the pond.

  Very quietly, he heard Lynn whisper, “I love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you, too, baby.”

  Before his kids came along, he never gave the topic of children much thought at all. That was, until he met and married Haven. Then, the only thing on his mind had been starting a life with her—which just happened to include kids.

  Their family felt full.

  Still, not yet complete.

  He loved it anyway.

  He loved it either way.

  Andino knew how lucky he was.

  After he’d finished Lynn’s book, he let his daughter stay tucked on his lap. He even grabbed the afghan blanket his wife left on the back of his office chair as decoration to cover her up with while they scrolled through a couple of her favorite shows on his desktop. Despite the fact he had a guest coming and it was late, none of that mattered much to him.

  Someday, his girls would be older. Spending time with him like this might not be the cool thing to do, and so he would always take advantage when he got the chance.

  “Late night with your daddy, principessa Lynn?”

  At the sound of her grandfather’s voice coming from the doorway, Lynn poked her head up out of the blanket to look over the edge of the desk. Andino grinned at his father, too. Giovanni didn’t seem to mind the extra guest. His dad still tried to make time to come over once a week so that the two of them could sit down and … well, do anything. Mostly talk.

  After all these years—and Andino being a grown ass man—and his father still made time for him that was only his. Had they spoiled him? Oh, yes. He thought it might have made him a better man and father in the end, though.

  Andino patted Lynn on her head, saying, “She was just heading to bed, weren’t you, bambina?”

  Big eyes looked up at him.

  He got the pouty lip, too.

  Giovanni chuckled as he took a seat on the opposite side of the desk. “No, actually, it looks like she’s probably going to stay right there.”

  Lynn grinned. “Hey, Grandpapa.”

  “Hey, sweetheart.”

  “Watch your show while I talk to Grandpapa,” Andino told Lynn. “And when the episode is over, you go back to bed. Deal?”

  Lynn thought about it for all of five seconds before settled back against her father under the blanket and muttering, “Deal.”

  “Ah, compromise,” Giovanni said, laughing under his breath. “The only way I found to keep your ass under control for years.”

  Andino smirked.

  His father wasn’t wrong.

  The office quieted while Lynn’s show continued playing in the background. Giovanni tipped up a glass for Andino to see—one he must have gotten from downstairs. Like his own on the desk, it seemed filled with the twenty-year cognac he kept downstairs.

  “Haven grabbed me a drink,” his father said. “She seems … quiet.”

  That had Andino sighing.

  “Not surprising. She’s been quiet for a couple of weeks.”

  “Oh?”

  “Since the last IVF round—we go for the blood test tomorrow.”

  Giovanni nodded. “So, tomorrow is the day, hmm?”

  “Tomorrow’s the day.”

  “How do you feel?”

  That was not an easy question.

  And he didn’t have an easy answer.

  Andino simply settled on saying, “Ready. I’m ready.”

  Regardless of the outcome.

  No matter the rest.

  He was ready for it.

  It’s who he was.

  TWELVE

  Sitting in a chair beside her husband, Haven rubbed at the spot on her inner elbow where the clinic had drawn blood for the pregnancy test. She hadn’t said much leading up to this day—she wanted to be grateful no matter the outcome of their choices regarding this journey—but she was still terrified all the same.

  And a part of her hoped this didn’t end in sadness.

  Andino’s hand snagged her arm into his grasp, stopping her fidgeting. She glanced up at the same time he tugged her forward until she sat on the very edge of the chair. Without a word, his thumb found the spot she’d been rubbing for the last ten minutes—now a bluish bruised mess—and he pressed gently before sweeping his digit soothingly over her skin.

  “We don’t know—don’t overthink it yet, Haven.”

  She let out a shaky sigh.

  “How do you know that’s what I’m doing?”

  He gave her one of those grins. His signature grin, she’d call it. The one that—no matter where they were or what they were doing—could make her stomach do the best kind of flip-flops. It probably didn’t help that Andino never looked better than he did when he wore one of his three-piece suits, filled it out so well, and seemed as though he didn’t have a care in the world. All things that fit his current description. All these years with him, and he still gave her butterflies. This time was no exception.

  Damn.

  She loved this man.

  “I just know you,” he settled on saying.

  Knowing they probably wouldn’t have much more time alone before the doctor came in to deliver the results of their pregnancy test, Haven wanted to take advantage of their privacy. Leaning across the space between their two cha
irs in the private room, she pressed a kiss to the side of Andino’s jaw where his two days worth of scruff tickled her lips.

  “Love you,” she whispered.

  “Ti amo—sempre, mia Tesoro.”

  Her hand came up to rest against his cheek. Her fingertips pressed into his jaw; it was her way of holding him, of keeping him closer until she was ready to let go. Which lately, seemed like never. Not that Andino ever complained.

  “It’s going to be fine,” she heard him say.

  All she could do was nod.

  She wanted to believe him.

  History proved differently, unfortunately.

  Yet, all of those doubts and painful memories faded away when Andino cupped Haven’s face in his warm palms and tipped her head back so that the two of them could stare at one another. He leaned in closer until his forehead pressed against hers. He kissed her once—softly. Then, twice … with a little more hunger and love.

  More love.

  She’d always need more of that from him.

  And then in a blink, Andino pulled her from the chair she’d been using to his own. Or rather, his lap. Those strong arms of his wrapped around her like a security blanket she hadn’t known she needed until it was warming and keeping her safe all at the same time.

  Well, maybe she didn’t need to know what she needed.

  Andino always knew.

  Wasn’t that love?

  She thought so.

  The only love she wanted.

  A couple of traitorous tears managed to escape from the corners of Haven’s eyes, but Andino was quick to wipe them away before she could even acknowledge them. By the time the doctor came around to their room with the ominous manila folder already opened in his hand, Haven had resituated herself in her own chair.

  She was still holding her husband’s hand, though.

  She needed that.

  “Good news,” the doctor said before he even looked up from the folder, “we have elevated HGC levels—positive for pregnancy. We’re going to need to get you in for an ultrasound before you leave, Haven, because we want to see if it’s a singleton, or if more embryos implanted. Congrats, guys. I know you were really hoping for this one.”