Page 101 of Wicked Ruin

The look of plaintive pain on her face makes me want to cry.

“Of course I trust you,” I say with a sigh. “But you're married into the McCarthy family now, and you're loyal to them. I didn't want to put you in a difficult position with Cavin and everybody. You know that.”

She nods.

“You're the first person I did tell, you know, after Declan. But I didn't even mean to tell him,” I say. Then I tell her in a rush of words how he crashed into me, saw the vitamins and the pamphlet, and how he knew.

Erin sniffs and wipes at her eyes. “You're my sister. We’re all the family we’ve got now, Bridge.”

“I know.” The backs of my eyes are hot because I didn't expect her to react like this.

“And you're going to have a baby,” she says slowly, like she's piecing it all together. “There's a baby. Well, two, really. We’re having babies together!”

I laugh ruefully. “I know. But it’s just…” My voice trails off. It’s dangerous to hope for. “Seamus doesn’t know, Erin. None of them do. And let’s be honest, there’s a very real possibility that when he finds out, he’ll ship me and the baby off to be exiled with our parents, if he’s feeling merciful.”

She doesn’t deny it. Erin’s no fool.

And then Erin is putting her arms around me, just like she did when I was sick and in the hospital, weary and wanting to give up. It's never been dramatic with us. Just a slow and quiet unraveling sometimes.

My shoulders droop, my face pressed against my big sister's shoulder, and the breath I've been holding for weeks finally comes out all at once. My voice is shaky, and I'm going to cry again, and maybe we'll just have to cry for a little while.

Erin holds on and doesn't try to fix things. She's just here, and I need that right now.

After a while, I sniff.

“I thought I was having a relapse,” I say. “At first.”

Erin sits very still. “Aye. We all did.”

“When the nausea started, the tiredness, I was just… I was certain, you know? I had the whole thing planned out in my head. How I'd tell Dr. Rosenberg, how I'd tell you, how I'd…” I stop. “How I'd tell Declan.”

Because what's the use in hiding it now? “I was terrified, Erin. And instead it turned out to be this.” I pause. “At first, I didn't know if that was worse or better or what.”

“Of course it's better,” Erin says furiously. “Obviously, that's better, Bridget. Anything is fucking better than you getting sick again.” Her voice ends on a sob, and I’m reminded of how much my illness and her endless vigils cost her.

And then I'm holding her.

“I know,” I say. “I know.”

She pulls back, and I wipe my face with the back of my hand.

“It was just, at the hospital, when I looked at the test and thought… This is Declan's. Because it could only be Declan's. You understand that.”

“Of course I do.” She nods. “So how did Declan react?”

I smile. “He cried, Erin, then kissed me and told me that he would make it right.”

Erin nods. She's not surprised.

“I didn't want him to feel responsible because, you know, fuck.” The words aren't coming out right. “I know it's Valentina and the alliance and the family breathing down his neck, and it's one more thing to manage in a sea of difficult things to manage.”

Erin's hands are still in her lap. She stares at them. “We've said from the beginning that things about Valentina haven't added up. I don't know if it was her family or what, and that Bronwyn doesn't really like her, but…”

“I know,” I say. “I’m afraid it's just that we all hope they don't.”

“Exactly.” She exhales. “There are things that Cavin doesn't discuss with me, operational things, because he doesn't want me to be complicit if shite goes down, according to him, anyway. But things are different now, and I think it's because Keenan’s sick.”

I nod. “I know. Declan's said as much.” Nobody wants to say it out loud, but the responsibility of fortifying this family is on all their shoulders in a way it never was before. In a way that means they don't have time.