She’d barely figured out how to be herself again after the attack. Some days she still flinched at shadows, still woke up with her heart racing, still felt like she was performing normalcy rather than living it. How was she supposed to be responsiblefor another human being when she could barely keep herself together?
“Hey.” Bear’s voice was low, close to her ear, and then his hand was sliding around her waist from behind. “You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you spiral and don’t tell anyone.”
Joy leaned back into him, letting his solid warmth anchor her. “I’m not spiraling.”
“Bug.” His thumb traced a small circle on her hip. “I can feel you vibrating.”
She closed her eyes. “Your mom cornered me.”
“About?”
“She knows something’s different. She just doesn’t know what.”
Bear was quiet for a moment. His chin rested on top of her head, and she could feel his chest rise and fall against her back.
“What did you tell her?”
“Nothing. I almost—” Joy broke off, shaking her head. “Three times tonight, Bear. I almost told her three times. I’m terrible at this.”
“You’re not terrible. You’re just not used to keeping things from people who love you.”
“When we tell her, she’s going to cry.”
“Oh, definitely. Big, loud, Charlie Bollinger tears. Probably grab your face with both hands. Possibly shriek.”
Joy laughed despite herself. “Your aunts too. All of them—real and honorary.”
His arms tightened around her. “It’s going to be chaos.”
“Good chaos?”
“The best kind.”
Joy turned in his arms, looking up at him. His brown eyes were steady on hers, warm and certain in a way that made her chest ache.
“I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not just of telling them. Of all of it.”
“I know.”
“What if I can’t do this? What if I’m—” She stopped, the words sticking in her throat.What if I’m too broken. What if the attack took something from me I can’t get back. What if I ruin this kid the way I’ve ruined everything else.
Bear cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheekbones. “You’re going to be an incredible mother.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I do.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’ve known you since you were eight years old, Joy. I’ve watched you fight for everything you have. You don’t give up. You don’t back down. And you love harder than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Her eyes burned. She blinked rapidly, refusing to cry in the middle of a party.
“What if loving hard isn’t enough?”
“It’s enough.” His voice was rough. “It’s more than enough. And you won’t be doing it alone.”
She kissed him then, quick and soft, not caring who might be watching.
