66
My knees buckle, and I sway on my feet. Nausea swims up my throat, and I think I’m going to be sick. Reeve reacts fast, slinging his arm around my back and holding me upright. “Darling, what’s wrong?”
A hysterical giggle lies trapped at the base of my throat. Where do I even start?
Gripping Reeve’s arm tight, I cling to his body as shock races through my veins like lightning. My brain is fried. A multitude of questions dances around my head, and it feels like I’m losing my mind. This cannot be happening. What is happening?
Lifting my gaze, I lock eyes on Dillon, and it’s disconcerting seeing Reeve’s eyes on Dillon’s face. How is this possible? Have my eyes been deceiving me? I don’t understand. There were occasions when I thought I saw hints of blue in Dillon’s eyes under certain lighting, but I never gave it more than a passing thought. Now I know it’s because he must have been wearing contacts. But why? This makes no sense.
Dillon’s eyes drop to my swollen stomach, and a muscle clenches in his jaw. He didn’t look surprised to see me, so either he knew whose house he was visiting or he’s pretending. Neither scenario provides any reassurance.
“Viv. Baby. Talk to me.” Reeve’s alarmed voice breaks through to me, and I snap out of it.
“I’m okay,” I croak. “I just got a little dizzy.”
“Come and sit down.” Reeve guides me over to the couch, and I’m working hard to contain a full-body shiver. I’m super cold, inside and out, and I can’t stop the trembling that emanates from pure unadulterated terror as old fears quickly resurface.
Blood rushes to my head and thrums in my ears, and the voice screaming questions in my head is all I can hear, but I need to get a grip. I need to do damage control until I figure out what the actual fuck is going on. I avoid looking at Dillon because I’m not sure I can look at him without having a complete meltdown.
Reeve helps me sit on the couch, gently pushing my head between my legs. “Deep breaths, babe, and keep your head down. It will get rid of the dizzy spells. I’ll grab you some water.” Training my eyes on the ground, I inhale and exhale, trying to calm down. I see Reeve’s feet moving away. “It’s been a particularly stressful time for both of us recently,” Reeve tells Dillon. “Stress isn’t good for the baby, and I’ve been trying to get Viv to take it easy, but she’s been worrying too much about me.”
“Congratulations. This is your second child, right?” Dillon says, and I almost choke on air, emitting a strange gargled sound.
“Shit.” Reeve rushes back to my side, setting a bottle of water and a glass down on the coffee table. “Maybe you should lie down upstairs.”
“No!” I blurt. “I’ll be okay in a minute.” There is no way in hell I am leaving Reeve in a room alone with Dillon. God knows what he might say!
“Take a seat,” Reeve tells Dillon, pouring water into the glass for me.
Dillon sits directly across from me, and like the coward I am, I keep my head between my legs, pretending I’m still dizzy. I’m sweating bullets, and my brain is rapid-firing questions at me from all angles.
“Drink this, babe.” Reeve holds the glass out to me, rubbing his other hand up and down my back.
Wiping my sweaty palms down the front of my summer dress, I lift my head, ignoring Dillon, and focus on my husband. My hand visibly shakes as I take the glass from Reeve, and I almost drop it. Reeve’s brow creases with fresh concern. “Perhaps we should call the doctor.” He wraps his hand around mine, helping me to drink. Then he places his other hand against my brow. “You don’t feel too hot, but you’re a little clammy.”
“I’m feeling better now. Stop worrying.” Shucking his hand off, I grip my glass more firmly, taking sips of water and purposely avoiding looking at my ex.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Grabbing Reeve’s arm, I place it around my shoulder, snuggling into his side, hoping his body warmth will heat up my ice-cold limbs. “I’m sorry I derailed your meeting. Talk to your brother.”
Let me freak out in silence while I try to figure out why Dillon is here. I just need to survive this ordeal and then call Audrey. I’m deliberately not thinking about the most pressing question, because if I go there now, I’m liable to pass out stone-cold.
Charlotte enters, depositing a tray with tea, coffee, and cookies on the coffee table. I spot the curiosity on her face as she looks at both brothers, but she remains discreet, leaving as quickly as she arrived.
“Would you like something to drink?” Reeve asks Dillon, gesturing with his hand to the tray and the bottles of water sitting on the side table. “I can get something stronger, if you like?” If I wasn’t pregnant and it wasn’t only eleven a.m., I would be demanding vodka.
“Coffee is fine.”
“Why do I get the feeling I know you from somewhere?” Reeve asks Dillon, as he pours coffee into a mug.
I clamp my lips shut, saying nothing. Reeve doesn’t know I listen to the band’s music or I saw them perform tons of times on stage while I was in Ireland, so I can’t be the one to tell him without rousing some suspicion.
“I’m the lead singer for Collateral Damage,” Dillon confirms, taking the mug from his brother.
His twin.
Oh my God. How did I never realize it? I knew Dillon’s birthday was in January, but he never said the date. There were occasions when I felt a familiarity around him that was odd, but I never stopped to analyze it. Then again, who would? I was on a different continent, Dillon is Irish, I had no idea he was adopted because no one told me, and we had no idea Reeve had a brother back then. Why would I have gone looking for meaning behind that familiarity?