Fast. Steady. Perfect.
The sound fills the room and my soul. I grip her hand because I need something solid to keep me upright, because my world has tilted, and she’s the only thing holding me to it.
“That’s your baby,” the doctor announces.
Enya turns to me. “Isn’t that the best sound in the world?”
Tears prick the back of my eyes. “Yes. The very best.”
For once, there’s no wariness in her expression. No armor. She’s glowing—soft, awed, hopeful in a way that is sacred.
And I fall in love with her all over again.
After the doctor leaves, warning us about rest, proper nutrition, and hydration, Enya’s armor returns.
“I’m fine,” she mutters.
“You fainted,” I remind her.
“And the doctor just said everything is A-okay.”
I raise a brow. “You fainted,” I repeated. “You fell into my arms. Unconscious.”
She scowls. “I was just tired.”
“Enya.” I sit by her, take her hand in mine. “You scared the hell out of me.”
She looks anywhere but at me. “You don’t have to be here.”
“I love you. You’re having my baby. Where the hell else do you think I’d be?” I demand, sudden anger surging through me.
“I don’t care, just not here,” she argues. “Look, you can…you know, play daddy after the baby is born, and after the DNA test.”
My mind freezes for a beat. “DNA test?”
She lifts her chin. “Yes.”
Fury crashes over me. “You think I wouldn’t claim this baby?”
“I think….” She swallows, aware that my mood has shifted. “That people walk away. And I’m not setting myself—or this child—up for heartbreak.”
My chest draws tight, like barbed wire is tightly coiled around me.
I count to ten, and then twenty because I want to rage, break something. “I’m not people. And I’m not walking.”
“You walked before.”
Fuck me! She has a point. And just like that, my anger vanishes. “That was the job, baby.”
“This is my life.”
I bring her hand to my mouth, kiss her knuckles. “Then let me be part of it.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I know, and that’s not what I’m offering.” I squeeze her hand. “Let me love you, let me care for all three of us.”
Her eyes soften for half a second—just long enough for warmth, for hope to flicker inside me—before she steels herself again.
