“Seriously, did you study psych or something? Because you are scarily good at this therapy stuff.”
“It’s easier to see it when you’re not in it. But also, it helps that I was in a similar situation. It took me a while to tell Ronan about my pregnancy too, but not as long as you.” She shoots me a look.
“You’ve got the disappointed mother look down, by the way.”
“Thanks, I’ve been practicing on Ronan.” She laughs, flicking her blonde ponytail over her shoulder.
I reach for a pillow and hug it to my chest. “So, what kept you from telling Ronan?”
“I was scared he was going to walk away. When I first met Ronan, he didn’t exactly scream ‘doting father’. If anything, he was the opposite.”
“So, how did you tell him?”
Ciara looks down at her bump as a crease forms between her eyebrows.
“My hand was forced. Kieran found out, and he threatened to tell Ronan if I didn’t.”
“Seriously?”
Ciara nods. “He said his brother had a right to know.”
My stomach churns at her words.
“I tried to tell him last night over dinner, but then Brennan called, and Kieran had to leave, and—” I shake my head. “It’s not my fault he’s distracted.”
“Maybe not. But I promise you this news would top everything else. If you told him last night, he would have stayed with you, and I think you know that.”
“I just need to wait until he’s ready to hear it.”
“Are you sure it’s not you who isn’t ready?”
I don’t answer. Because she’s right, and I hate that.
Ciara doesn’t push me further. She just sighs and rubs her belly. “All right. If you’re set on the cover story, you’re in luck. Dr. Rogers has been on me for regular urine samples, so I’ll call and tell him you’re bringing one in for me. That way, if Kieran asks, you’re technically telling the truth.”
Relief and guilt slam into me all at once.
“Ciara, thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“For starters, you can make another chocolate torte. I heard it was incredible, and I’m very offended that I never got a piece.”
“You should have said, I can go get you one right now…”
Ciara shakes her head.
I frown. “What?”
“Brennan ate it.”
“You’re joking. There was only a tiny slice cut out of it! There is no way it’s all gone.”
“This is Brennan we’re talking about. He would eat my twins if he got hungry enough.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Well, can you make sure you make another torte first and then murder him? You can’t bake from jail.”
“I’m sure Ronan would pay some people off to keep me out.” I get to my feet. “That man would do anything to make you happy.”
