She looks at me with those dark eyes full of pain and fear. Her mouth opens. She’s going to tell me. Whatever secret she’s been carrying, she’s about to let it out.
Then her expression closes off. “I’m just a mess. That’s who I am. A pregnant, emotional mess who doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
She’s lying. I can see it in the way she won’t hold my gaze. In the tension that runs through her body. In the way her breathing has gone shallow and quick.
But I don’t push. If she’s not ready, I can wait.
“You’re not a mess.” I cup her face in my hands, making her look at me. “You’re overwhelmed and scared and going through something huge. That’s normal. That’s human.”
“I don’t feel human right now. I feel like I’m drowning.”
“Then let me pull you back to the surface.” I lean forward and kiss her.
It’s gentle. Soft. Different from the urgent, desperate kisses we usually share. This one is a promise. A reminder that she’s not alone. That we’re here, and we’re not going anywhere.
She kisses me back.
When we pull apart, she’s crying again.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I tell her. “I promise you that.”
She nods, but I see terror in her eyes.
“Sam, is there something else? Something you need to tell me?”
She freezes. Opens her mouth. Closes it.
I can see the war happening behind her eyes. The urge to confess battling with the fear of what will happen if she does.
“No.” The word comes out broken. “It’s just the pregnancy. I’m being dramatic about everything.”
Liar.
But I let it go. “Okay. But when you’re ready to talk about it—whatever it is—I’m here. We all are.”
“I know.” She pulls away, standing up and wrapping her arms around herself again. “Thank you. For checking on me. For being patient with my breakdown.”
“It’s not a breakdown. It’s just you being honest about how you feel.” I stand too. “That’s a good thing.”
She laughs weakly. “Feels like falling apart.”
“Sometimes you have to fall apart before you can put yourself back together stronger.” I move toward the door, giving her the space she clearly needs. “I have to go handle something, but I’ll see you later. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I pause at the doorway. “Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Whatever you’re scared of, it’s going to be okay. We’re not going anywhere. You’re stuck with us now.”
She tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Lucky me.”
I leave before I can change my mind about pushing her harder for the truth.
Something is very wrong. But she has to tell me herself. I can’t force it out of her.
I head back to my room, my mind still on her face. On the fear I saw there. On the way she almost confessed before stopping herself. What the hell is she hiding?
