“Let go!”
Epilogue Two
?Isla?
He does, but Nick grips my arms when I struggle to push to my feet. He eases me up and immediately releases once I’m steady.
I hurry to the sofa and grab the Afghan and toss it around my shoulders. My breathing is labored as I fight the urge to bolt outside. I want to move and pace. I’m so restless. And hungry. And tired. I’m sweaty and my heart is racing.
“Something’s wrong with me,” I blurt.
“There is nothing wrong with you,” Nick says with a gentleness that only makes me want to yell at him.
“What he means,” Dom interjects, possibly seeing the urge on my face, “is it’s nothing that you should be worried about.”
I stare at the two, certain one of us has lost their minds.
“Can you please just tell me?” I beg.
To his credit, Nick hazards a step closer, palms up and open like I’m some wild creature he’s trying to approach.
“When did you last have your period?”
This again, but I take a deep breath and think... and think... and realize.
I stiffen.
My eyes go round as they jump to the two watching me expectantly. With a mixture of excitement and concern.
Dom beams like he’s been given the keys to the city and Nick is watching me, hands still out like he’s prepared to catch me if I faint.
“Am I…?”
It’s a really stupid question to be asking someone else when I should probably know the answer, but I’ve never been in this situation.
“I think you might be.”
Dom is practically bouncing on the spot.
“Are you okay if you are?”
Nick is still. Too still. Too focused.
He thinks I’m going to run.
It’s in the tension around his mouth. The way his eyes are practically begging.
“You still don’t think very much of me, do you?”
The second the words are out, I wish I could swallow them back. They are unfair and cruel, and wildly untrue. Nick has been nothing but supportive. He’s held me through every breakdown. He’s talked me off every ledge. For the first few weeks, he took time off work to go with me to see Dr. Langford so I wouldn’t be alone. Throwing that into his face is disgusting.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt, rushing to him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Rather than annoyance or even anger, his palms capture my face and I’m drawn to him.
“I think the world of you, Isla. But I want to make sure you’re okay with this. That you’re mentally prepared. Dom and I will be here every step of the way, right beside you, but ultimately, you always come first.”
My inhale is shaky, but I square my shoulders. “I want our baby.”
