He wanted to touch her, her belly, the place where Isle had come from. She smiled, and he experienced a stirring for her that was unlike any he had felt before, a connection of some kind, between her and himself and their child. It was all light and strangely uplifting, and he let out a breath and wet his lips and formed in his head the words he would say to her, for at this instant he knew, yes, that he could love her and that they belonged together. That they were a family.
But her smile was changing, right before his eyes. It became a smile that betrayed not her happiness to see him, but her happiness to see him looking at her this way. Looking at her with real attraction. Desire. Her smile was the smile of pure self-satisfaction.
"Amazing, isn't it," she said. "What a little time can do?"
"Oh, Ivy," he said, turning his hands helplessly. "I'm sorry.
About all of it."
"Ha," she said. "Please. I've been in the desert learning how to stop apologizing. Take my advice, save it."
"But we don't have to be like this. Can't we try to be, I don't know, nice?"
"Um, no. Not now, anyway. This is business, Peter. Maybe in a while, after we close our agreement."
"But I don't want you to be angry forever."
"Sit down," she said, and he did. She remained standing however, looking down at him. "Poor Peter. Just a lost little boy. Look, I'm not pissed off anymore. Well, not too angry. I'm not sorry, either. What's done is done. I am definitely not having an easy time of it, coming off the drugs and all. But I will get there. All I want is to see my Isle, and my Isle, and how they've grown in your care." She seated herself on the concrete beside him. "I thought for sure you'd have ten lawyers here with you," she said.
"Nope," he said. "Where are yours?"