They were bright, filled with some internal glow the rest of me was not feeling.My eyes told the rest of the story—the one I’d hidden for the last few weeks.
“You’re okay, Mil-bil,” I murmured.Using Ida Jane’s nickname for me raised a longing in my chest.I missed her.I curled my fingers tighter against the sink.With a heavy sigh, I picked up my toothbrush and cleaned my mouth.
Then, before I could change my mind, I padded out of the bathroom and through the living room, ignoring my high-rise view, and to the bar in the kitchen where I’d left my laptop.I settled into the chair and opened the chat app.I picked up my now-cool tea, wrapping my fingers around the ceramic mug as if it were a talisman that would save me from the censure I would receive.
The digital chimes continued for a few moments until Ida Jane’s pretty face filled my screen.Her tousled hair, droopy eyelids, and flushed cheeks told me I’d caught her at a bad time.Didn’t matter.I couldn’t hide from her any longer.
“It wasn’t Dengue fever.I’m pregnant,” I blurted, needing my friend’s comfort.
Ida Jane’s eyes widened, her lips forming a perfect O of surprise.“Okay.Well, that’s not what I expected you to lead with.I’m happy if you’re happy, which I’m assuming you are since you’re telling me about the baby.Who’s the father?”she asked.
Ida Jane and I had been fast friends since our college days at University of Houston, and she now practiced as an art therapist near the Galleria.
I relaxed enough to set the mug on the counter.Ida Jane wasn’t judging me.
“Luka.Who else?”
Ida Jane gave a curt nod, her gaze flicking upward, no doubt to Maxim.I still couldn’t believe she’d married the Wildcatters’ D-man in a private civil ceremony nearly two months ago—not long after they’d met the night we’d gone to dinner.But she looked well-loved and happy with her decision, so I was happy for her.
“You’re the first person I’ve told,” I said, teary.“I’m not sure what to do.”
“Be honest with Stol,” Ida Jane said.
I twisted my hands together, nervous energy running through me.But I was too tired to get up and run or do kata.“Do you think he’ll care?I mean, he must have moved on with, like, a million other women by now.”
“He hasn’t, and he’s a better guy than you’ve given him credit for,” Ida Jane snapped.“Look, he comes over every week.He’s a good man.Thoughtful and responsible.He has a past.So do you.”
Damn her for bringing up my attempts at romance and love.Those had all happened before my father basically assigned Trent to be my husband, and before I knew my father had evidence of my failed relationships he could use against me.
“Don’t hold that against him,” Ida Jane continued.“Just like you wouldn’t want him to see you only as a survivor.”
“But…” I didn’t even know what I was trying to say, just that fighting was easier than what Ida Jane was asking of me.
“Tell Luka about the baby,” she said.Her voice was kind, her eyes filled with understanding even as she gave me her stern face.
I swallowed.“I know.I’m…I’m so scared.”
Her expression softened.If I’d been in the room, she would have hugged me.I could have used one of her soft-but-fierce hugs.In fact, I craved them.I was desperate for any kind of touch.My night with Luka had rekindled my need for connection.
I’d been so closed off since finding out Trent’s plans for me: get her pregnant, get the heir, cinch ties to the Jones’ fortune.
Trent had hurt me, but now I was hurting myself—and I couldn’t seem to stop.I wanted to connect, to be open and find love, but I was scared I’d end up a means to an end, an unwanted possession.
Like Trent had tried to make me.
“I understand, Mil-bil.You have every right to be afraid.”She didn’t add “that’s normal,” and I loved her for it.Ida Jane always allowed me to set the pace of recovery.
“But Luka needs to know he’s going to be a dad.And he deserves the chance to prove his interest in his child—however the two of you work out the details.”
I sniffled.“I love the baby already, and I can’t imagine not being there for…for everything.”
“I’m sure you do.”Ida Jane smiled.“You’re going to be a great mama, Millie.Fierce, protective, but oh so loving.”
I snorted.Leave it to Ida Jane to slam into the heart of the situation—of my fear.“I didn’t have the best role model…”
Ida Jane sneered.“Your father is the poster man for whatnotto do as a parent.You’re a smart one, Millie.You’ve already synthesized what didn’t work from him and determined a different, better path.”
I swallowed, trying to ease the ache in my throat.“What if I mess up?”
