I feel like I’m seventeen again, standing before him after sneaking Lucy home past curfew. Except this time, I’m a grownman with a child of my own, and I’ve gotten his precious daughter pregnant.
“We didn’t plan it,” I say, my voice more stable than I feel. “But we’re happy about it.”
Her mother recovers first, her eyes brimming with tears as she reaches across the table for Lucy’s free hand. “Oh, sweetheart, this is wonderful news.”
I glance at Lucy, catching the relief washing over her face. The color returns to her cheeks as her mother’s words sink in.
Her dad still hasn’t said a word. His face is a wall, no tells, no cracks.
Finally, he says, “How far along?”
“About eight weeks,” Lucy answers. “We only found out recently.”
“We’re just trying to wrap our heads around it ourselves,” I add, feeling the need to fill the silence.
Her dad leans forward, elbows on the table, eyes boring into mine. It’s the kind of stare meant to peel a man open and see what’s underneath. My palm itches against my thigh, but I don’t look away. I can’t.
“Are you going to take care of her?” he asks.
“Dad,” Lucy groans, shifting in her chair, but I shake my head before she can say more.
“It’s a fair question,” I tell her. “I love your daughter, sir. I can’t promise I’ll get everything right, but I can promise I’ll spend every damn day trying.”
I glance at Lucy then, her hand resting protectively over her stomach, and the words come easier. “It’s an honor to take care of her. Of both of them.”
I turn my attention back to Paul. He studies me for what feels like an eternity, measuring my words, stacking them against whatever bar he’s set for the man lucky enough to love his daughter.
Finally, his expression shifts. It’s definitely not approval, but it might be acceptance. I’ll take what I can get at the moment.
Lucy’s mum is crying happy tears. “Another grandbaby! Oh, this is just wonderful. My heart’s as big as an overstuffed quilt.”
I shoot her a puzzled look as Lucy bursts out laughing. Her dad just shakes his head with a faint smile. “Don’t question it, son. She says weird things sometimes.”
forty-three
AIDAN
Lucy’s been in our room all morning, just trying to get some rest. The doctor told us she should hopefully only have a few more weeks of this before it gets better, but there are no signs of it letting up any time soon.
Then I hear it—a thin, cracked sob that slices straight through the quiet house and lodges under my ribs. My heart lurches. I’m moving before I even register it, sprinting down the hall.
I skid into the bathroom, and there Lucy is on the floor, crying. Not the silent tears she sometimes sheds when she’s overwhelmed, but deep, wracking sobs that shake her whole body.
I’m at her side in an instant, kneeling down next to her, the cold tile biting through my jeans as I sink to the floor. My hands hover in the air, unsure where to touch her first. She’s trembling, her chest heaving with every wail, and each one might as well be a knife in my gut.
“Lucy…” My words catch in my throat like gravel. She just looks so small, so fragile in this moment, and I’m completely fucking helpless.
I want to pull her into my arms, hold her close, make the tears stop, but I’m not sure if she wants that or if she’s even able to let me right now.
“Hey…” I try again, my hand finally finding the small of her back, hesitant at first, but then I press a little harder, a silent apology for not noticing sooner. “I’m here, okay? I’ve got you.”
Her crying doesn’t stop, but at least her breathing steadies, just slightly. It’s something.
“I’m…sorry,” she says, her voice cracking. Her hands swipe at her face, but the tears keep coming. “It’s not even that bad. I’m just tired. And these hormones suck. And I’m hungry, but if I eat, I’ll throw up. Did I mention I’msotired?”
I shift closer, sitting back on my heels. “You did mention it,” I say softly, trying to catch her eye, even as she ducks her head. “You’re allowed to be exhausted, baby. You’re allowed to hate every second of this if you want to. None of this is easy, and it’s not fair, and I know it feels like shit right now.”
Her shoulders shake, another sob ripping through her as she presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. Then suddenly, she freezes, dropping her hands, her eyes wide with panic. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. Did I wake Isla up from her nap?”
