“Of course he does.” I pour the sauce over the pasta. “And how old is he again?”
“Seventeen,” she answers around a mouthful of bread.
“Cool. When’s his birthday?”
“Oh my God,” Bella drones. “He’s not a bad guy. Not everyone dates dangerous guys, Amara.”
“Does he know your name?” I decide to dodge her insult to get to the more important thing.
“Not my real name.”
“Good.”
“Cool. Now can he come over?”
“Can who come over?” Eliza walks in, and Bella lets out another persecuted sigh.
“Nobody. Jesus.”
“Bella’s boyfriend,” I answer, divvying up the pasta into bowls and sprinkling it with fresh parmesan before handing it out.
“Bella has a boyfriend?” Eliza asks.
“Wait, Bella has a boyfriend?” Gianni echoes as he comes in the door.
“I hate all of you,” Bella says.
I smile, a little too pleased with the way the conversation is going. “Go ahead and tell him to come over. I’ll keep a bowl warm for him.”
She groans again and punches out a text.
Later that night, after Gianni is in his garage and Eliza is in her room reading and Bella says goodbye to her boyfriend, I take a bath to relax.
Boyfriend.God, when did my little sister get old enough to date? Not that there’s anything wrong with Skating Rink Oliver—he’s age-appropriate and even seems nice—but c’mon. Growing up fast much?
Not that she’s the only one growing fast.
As I lay in the warm water and lavender-infused suds, I trace my finger over my belly. The warmth brings the little person inside me to life, and he rolls and stretches about.
When I had my first appointment, I was already a few months along. I knew I was pregnant. The lack of period, morning sickness and growing bump confirmed that. Not to mention the test I took. Because yeah, false positives can happen, but I didn’t think this was one. I was terrified to go to the doctor at first, not because I was in denial—it’s hard to deny that you’re pregnant when you’re craving hot sauce on churros—but because I was afraid that Ransome would find me if I got logged into any kind of system. Like my name being on record, fake or not, would make it easier for him to hunt me down.
Then I realized how silly that was. He made it very clear when I saw him last that he never wanted to hear from me again.
So when I finally did go to the doctor, I was far enough along to see the baby clearly through the ultrasound photos. A little nose on a little face, clutched hands and tiny feet… and the undeniable detail that told me I am having a boy.
A boy.
I fell in love faster than I’ve fallen in love with anyone or anything in my life. Even if it scares me. Even if it’s all unknown. I know that I have to keep it together for him.
I get out of the bath and wrap myself in a towel. My room sits at the front of the house, and I realize on the way there that I’ve left the blinds open on the living room window. I walk over, one hand on the towel and the other on the rod.
But then I stop.
My stomach sinks to the floor. My hands both freeze as my blood goes cold in my veins.
Sitting outside, parked across the street, is the same blacked out car I saw earlier passing the grocery store. Except this time, the window is down just enough that I can see a dark silhouette of who is inside.
As soon as I peek through, the window rolls up and they take off. Slowly at first, then faster, until they’ve disappeared into the night.
