I nod slowly. "When you accused me of making it about control, you were right. But it wasn't about controlling you. It was about controlling what can never be exposed about me."
She's silent for a long moment. Processing. I watch her face, trying to read what's happening behind those gentle, yet strong, eyes.
"You built those walls to survive," she says finally. "They kept you safe when nothing else would. When the people who should have protected you were the ones hurting you."
“Yes.”
Her hand comes up to touch my jaw. "I understand now. But you need to understand this. You don't have to carry that alone anymore. Whatever anyone might dig up, whatever they expose, we face it together. Your past isn't your shame, Nick. It's proof of everything you survived. Everything you became despite what was done to you."
She holds my gaze, her eyes fierce and unflinching.
"I still don't want a hundred people to lose their jobs because of one ugly story. But now I understand why you feel the way you do." A tender look softens her lovely face. "So, do what you needto. Protect yourself however you decide. Protect us. I trust you to know how far is too far."
The weight of what she's giving me settles into my chest. The permission. The understanding. The steadfast support. All the things I didn't know I needed until she offered them.
I pull her against me and kiss her, slow and deep, tasting the salt on her lips and the promise beneath it. Her fingers curl into my shoulders, and for a moment there's nothing but this. The heat of her mouth. The press of her body. The future opening up in front of us, terrifying and beautiful and ours.
When we finally break apart, she settles against me again, her cheek on my shoulder, her breath warm against my neck. The water has cooled, but neither of us moves to get out. Not yet.
My hand finds her belly again. Rests there.
"I'm going to protect you both. Whatever it takes. Whatever it costs."
Her hand covers mine on her stomach.
"I know," she murmurs. "That's who you are."
I press a kiss to her hair and let myself breathe.
Tonight, everything that seemed broken has been mended.
Tonight, everything is beginning again.
17
AVERY
The paper on theexamination table crinkles every time I shift my weight. I'm trying to hold still, but my body won't cooperate. Too much nervous energy looking for somewhere to go.
Nick is in the chair beside me, as close as the furniture will allow. His hand found mine the moment we sat down, and neither of us has let go since. His thumb moves idly across my knuckles, a rhythm I don't think he's aware of. But I feel every pass, the steady pressure grounding me as we wait for Dr. Wilson to arrive.
It's been a week since I told him about the baby. A week of tenderness and careful attention, his hands finding my belly when he thinks I'm sleeping, his gaze tracking every bite I take at breakfast, the gentleness that's crept into even his smallest touches. But this first prenatal appointment has been hovering over everything, a question mark neither of us wants to voice out loud.
What if we learn something's wrong?
I haven't said it to him. He's carrying enough worry for both of us. He's been coiled tight all morning, that familiar vigilance sharpened to a fine point. Checking on me before we left. Making sure I ate something. Driving here like a single pothole might shatter us both, one hand on the wheel and the other reaching for my knee at every red light as if he couldn't bear to go too long without touching me.
All that protective energy focused entirely on me.
It should probably annoy me, his protective, watchful hovering. It doesn't. There's something deeply reassuring about having him here, solid and present, my partner in every meaningful sense of the word.
I squeeze his hand, just to remind him how grateful I am that he's with me, not only today but in this life we're making together. He squeezes back, and the tender look he gives me makes something settle in my chest.
The door opens and Dr. Wilson comes in, giving both of us a warm smile. "Good morning, Avery. Dominic, nice to meet you. I'm Jane Wilson."
Nick rises to shake her hand. "Good to meet you. Call me Nick."
"Of course." She settles onto her stool and pulls up something on the computer, asking how I've been feeling since my last visit.
