I don’t hesitate when I say, “For the record, if you had told me, it would have always been a yes to grow a legacy with you.”
The door opens before either of us can say any more.
Damon steps in. “Apologies for interrupting, but we need to move forward. Time is of the essence.”
Stan follows him. “You ever hear yourself, dude? You sound like a boring dictionary.” He rolls his eyes. “Emphasis ondick.”
Damon ignores him.
Stan’s attention moves to me, his expression softening into an apologetic frown. He mouths “sorry,” clearly having heard that he revealed Idris’ secret to me in his sleep.
I huff a light laugh. “You’re forgiven,” I say, turning back to Idris. “You as well, but I suppose it’s an unfortunate farewell for now, Idris,” I say.
“For now, Em,” he agrees. “I promise I’ll come back to you one day.”
I nod, trusting him entirely.
Stan helps me stand up. Damon takes over where I was, speaking with Idris, who I catch watching me as I step out of his hospital room.
Lix is waiting outside, reaching for my hand without a word, and I let him guide me into the hallway.
While we walk, he brings a cold water bottle to my lips. “Drink,” he says. “At least a little, please.”
I take a sip, the chill sharp against my tongue and down my throat as I swallow.
This day has been a whirlwind, but we keep moving forward, the hospital lights blurring overhead as we go.
Idris may be gone for the foreseeable future, but I’ll be carrying a part of him with me, and I’ll make sure his heir grows healthy and well for him. For us.
Stan shouts, “Wait up!”
He sprints to catch up, inserting himself between us and draping his arms across our shoulders.
“So the news is out, babe!” he tells Lix. “Em’s pregnant, and you’re next, Lix. Gonna put a baby in you too.”
Lix scowls. I lift my brows, wondering how Stan could accomplish that.
“You two haven’t heard of mpreg?” Stan chuckles. “Okay, we gotta do some serious reading together, babes.”
He starts mentioning titles of stories I don’t understand, but I like the look of Lix laughing at the absurdity of Stan’s suggestions, while in the back of my mind, I think of how Idris will be returning to this, to all of us enjoying each other’s company someday with his heir ready to meet him.
All I have to do—no, allwehave to do is wait a while.
24
Stan
March 11 - Penthouse across the hospital
I’m lying flat on a cot that was clearly not made for my perfect body or my dwindling patience level.
My stomach’s down. Legs stretched out. Arms braced forward like I’ve decided to plank until I die.
I set the damn thing up myself, which means I only have me to blame for how uncomfortable it is, but Istillhate it with my whole chest.
At least the tripod is doing its job, locked under my sniper rifle. My cheek’s pressed into the stock, my eye lined up through the scope, and I’m breathing real slow. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. Again and again.
I’ve got my pulse under control, and my hands are steady. My mind’s sharp enough to do some actual math, maybe some maiming and internal sarcasm at the same time.
