Page 99 of River Wild

“Olive,” I say. “I nicknamed the baby Olive.”

“Oh,” he whispers.

That feeling expands further.

“Can I … would it be okay if I …”

I reach out, take hold of his hand, and press it to my bump.

I hear his breath hitch and see his Adam’s apple bob on a swallow.

That feeling in my chest spreads out, casting out of me and over him, like a net wrapping around the both of us.

River’s eyes are focused on where his hand rests.

And, when Olive kicks again, he laughs. His eyes widen and brighten with awe. “Hi, Olive,” he says to my bump. “I’m River. Your neighbor.”

He sounds so formal; I want to laugh. A small chuckle escapes me.

His gaze comes up to mine. “What?” He’s smiling.

I chuckle again, shaking my head. “Nothing. You just make me laugh.”

He seems to like that from the look on his face.

Olive kicks again, drawing his eyes back to my bump.

“God, it’s fucking amazing, Red.” He shakes his head. “You have a baby inside of you right now.”

“Five months now,” I deadpan.

His eyes come back to mine. “You know what I mean. Of course, I knew you were pregnant, but it wasn’t …”

He’s struggling to find the right word, so I offer one up. “Real.”

“Yeah.” His eyes flicker down and then come back to mine to stay. “It wasn’t real. Until now.”

His eyes are still staring into mine, and I’m looking right back into those dark depths of his.

I feel it—the exact moment something shifts between us. Like it snaps and then clicks into place. I know he feels it, too.

I don’t quite know exactly what it is or what it means, but I just know that it matters.

It matters a lot.