We sit in amiable silence until the island comes into view where a small group of people are waiting on the shoreline. My eyes scan the faces, unable to ignore the deep disappointment I feel when I realize Delilah isn’t among them.
Bec waves frantically, a huge smile on her face as I jump out of the boat into the water and help my dad over. The small crew of people immediately starts unloading the supplies while Bec hugs my dad tightly around the middle.
“Hey, Papa Joe.”
“Hey, kiddo. How ya doin’?” My dad pats her on the back, a genuine smile on his face.
They chat and catch up as we grab a few bags each and walk back to camp to unload the goods. Once we’re at the Hub, my eyes continue to search for the woman who haunts my mind every waking moment, but I still don’t see her anywhere.
“Where is she?” I ask Bec, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.
Bec shrugs. “Haven’t seen her all morning.”
I clench my jaw to keep from snapping at my closest friend and set off toward my tent, dropping the bags I was carrying unceremoniously at my feet with a thump. The anxiety I feel is all-consuming as I navigate the dense forest. What if something happened to her?
I see V near her tent, not even bothering to stop as I ask, “Have you seen Mrs. Sinclair?”
The doctor’s brows furrow. “Not since this morning.”
I continue stalking away, ignoring V as she calls after me.
Finally, I make it to my tent, bursting through the closure as my chest heaves and my heart beats wildly in my chest. I stop short when Isee her right where I left her, asleep in my bed. Zeus is curled up on the floor beside her, like he was watching out for her while I was gone. I close my eyes and exhale, relieved far beyond what’s normal. I take a few steps toward her, studying her face in her sleep.
God, she’s beautiful.Even with her curls sticking out at wild angles and her mouth slightly parted, she’s stunning. I have the strangest temptation to count all the freckles dotting her nose and cheeks, and my feet move toward the bed before my mind can catch up.
I squat down and reach a hand toward her, brushing my fingertips down the side of her cheek gently. She sighs and nuzzles into my touch, but I convince myself not to read into it. She’s asleep, for fuck’s sake.
“Mrs. Sinclair,” I say quietly. The last thing I want to do is startle her.
Her eyelids flutter open, and I watch as her expression morphs from one of confusion to one of familiarity. She looks around before stretching, reaching her arms above her head in a feline manner. “I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep.”
I realize my thumb is still stroking her cheek and remove my hand as casually as possible, clearing my throat. “Don’t apologize. Your body needed rest.”
She nods, sitting up. “What time is it?”
I check my watch. “A little after noon. How are you feeling?”
“Better. Thank you.” She wraps her arms around her lower stomach, and I get the sense she’s still in pain.
“I have someone who would like to meet you, if you’re feeling up for it.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Someone wants to meetme?”
I stand and extend my hand toward her. “I apologize in advance for any jokes you’re forced to laugh at.”
She takes my hand and I pull her to her feet, and even once she’s standing, our palms linger until she seems to realize we’re still touching. She crosses her arms once again and gives me a weak smile. “Color me intrigued.”
Delilah
Present Day
“A citizen’s loyalty to New Athens must be absolute.”— THE ARTICLES OF BROTHERHOOD, N.A.L. 1 § 43
Tap tap tap tap tap.My pen hits the paper at an unsustainable rhythm. I stare at the blank sheet resting on my bent knees, but the words won’t come. My uterus cramps again so I adjust the hot water bottle, which is now only warm at best. The first day is always the worst—heavy and aching, both physically and emotionally.
Every period I’ve ever had—aside from the very first one—has been a painful reminder of the fact that I’mnotpregnant. Even now, I can’t help but feel that all-too familiar disappointment. But, if I really think about it, I only feel sad because it’s what I’ve always felt, what I’msupposedto feel. If I’m completely honest with myself, I’m not disappointed at all. I’mrelieved. Being pregnant right now is the last thing I need. Being pregnant with Gabriel’s baby—a man who I thought I knew but I’m rapidly learning is not the person I once believed him to be—would be even worse.
The first few times I had to tell Gabriel I wasn’t pregnant he was indifferent.Next month,he would say dismissively. I started taking ovulation tests, then would initiate sex on my fertile days, ensuring he would finish inside me, just as I was trained. I would take a pregnancy test as soon as I possibly could, crying quietly in the bathroom when only one line would appear.
