He chuffs. “Says the one who decorated her entire nursery in florals.”
“Everyone loves flowers,” Darby argues.
“You’re right, baby,” Leo concedes.
A moment passes before my brother begins laughing again, rubbing his hand across his wife’s stomach. Darby winces, but it doesn’t take away the pure joy on her face as she watches him on his knees in front of her.
“Elena, you’ve got to come feel this,” Leo says with astonishment.
I’m fairly certain it’s incredibly rude to touch a pregnant woman’s belly without her consent, so I keep my feet planted exactly where they are. Darby lifts her head and meets my gaze.
As if she can read my mind, she nods. “Do you want to feel? It’s kind of weird.”
“It’s not weird,” Leo gasps. “It's beautiful.”
I hesitantly step toward them, stopping beside my brother where he squats at the floor. Darby reaches out a hand, wrapping her fingers around my wrist and placing my palm at the centerof her stomach. She readjusts me, knocking Leo’s hand off her belly.
A second ticks by before I feel it. Like a ripple beneath Darby’s skin. It moves across my palm, the flutter of confirmation that someone else is in this room with us.
I rear back, shocked by the sensation. “Oh, my God.”
I immediately drop my hand back to her stomach, eager to feel it again. Darby and Leo laugh at me, and my brother rests his palm against mine. Sure as shit, she kicks again, the tiniest little wave against our hands.
“Hi, sugar,” Leo whispers, glancing at me. “You can talk to her.”
Darby nods. “She really acts up when Leo’s talking to her. Lou too.”
I have no explanation for it, but tears spill from my eyes. I mean, I knew Darby was pregnant. Leo gave me that ultrasound photo a few months ago, and he’s been keeping me updated ever since. But it’s suddenly very real now. My brother and his beautiful, kind wife—whom I’ve tried to convince myself I hate—have created a whole new life, and I’ve been missing the entire goddamn thing.
Leo, with Darby’s permission, finally told me their whole story not long after I moved home. The truth of why she left, and why it took ten years for her to reach out again. He told me he never got the letters she wrote him, and the restrictions her father kept on her to prevent them from having contact.
All that hate I harbored for Darby transitioned right onto her piece of shit father, who’s currently rotting in jail and awaiting trial for a plethora of offenses that Dahlia had him charged with earlier this year. He’s to be sentenced in the next couple of months, and with luck, will spend the rest of his life behind bars.
Regardless, I felt there was too much damage done, too much distance and space and silence, for any attempt at reconciling the brief yet strong friendship Darby and I once had.
As her growing daughter’s little foot presses against my hand again, I don’t know how to feel. “Hi,” I whisper to her belly, my voice breaking beneath my tears. I don’t know what else to say. I don’t feel qualified to introduce myself as her aunt yet.
As soon as he realizes I’m crying, Leo stands from the floor, turning me sideways and pulling me into his arms. I’m swallowed up by his chest, but vaguely hear Darby whisper something about excusing herself.
“You okay?” Leo whispers against the top of my head.
“Yes,” I murmur, the sound muffled against his chest. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“It’s okay to cry, Lena. It’s always okay to cry.”
For some reason, his assurance causes me to weep harder, tears fully soaking my brother’s bare skin as I realize he’s still wearing nothing but a wetsuit.
“Do you ever think about how he’ll never know?” I whisper, pulling away to look up at him. “He’ll never know you two made it back to each other, or that you’re having a baby. He’ll miss all of this.”
“He knows,” Leo says confidently, rubbing his hand over the back of my head.
“It feels like my fault.” The words fall from my lips without thought. I hadn’t meant to express them aloud, to let my brother hear that truth that I’ve kept so deeply hidden.
He pulls back, placing his hands on my shoulders, leveling his gaze with mine and staring into my tear-stained eyes. “What do you mean by that?”
I shake my head, wiping at my face as I drop my head, refusing to look at him.
I glance around the house, taking in Darby and Leo’s furnishings and decor. All the changes they’ve made in the past year since they bought it, and the small details I recognize from when Darby’s grandmother owned the home. I still remember sitting upstairs, in what is now their daughter’s nursery but used to be Darby’s room, doing her hair and preparing her for her first date with my brother over a decade ago.
