“That’s horrible!” I look at her, startled. “And it gets worse? How are you still—”
“Functioning?” Ana glances at me wryly. “That’s why I’m telling you this. For a long time, I wasn’t. Even when Liam and I first met, I was a shell of a person. The moments I spent with him in that safe house were some of the first happy ones I’d had in a long time then, like walking out into sunlight after a long winter.” Her face softens, a smile tilting the corners of her lips. “That was the beginning of things getting better. But there was a lot more worse before that.”
I watch her face as a series of emotions flicker over it, and she sets her chopsticks down gently, turning to face me in the curved booth. “I’ll spare you the worst of the details, but I and the other wives and women there at the safe house were kidnapped. Anika and Yelena too—I think you met them.”
“The children?” I stare at her, horrified.
Ana nods. “I think you can fill in the whys of it. We were kept prisoner at another safe house, displayed for sale at a party. I was purchased by a very eccentric Frenchman. He liked to—collect damaged things and people. Girls, specifically. When I came to his apartment, I was the only one.”
“Oh my god, that’s awful.”
Ana smiles ruefully. “He wasn’t so bad. Eccentric, as I said, and certainly disturbed, but I do believe he thought he was saving me, and that he loved me in his way. I stayed with him for a while, and if I’m being honest—I was in love with him too, in my own way. Until Liam came and rescued me.” She lets out a short, puffing breath. “Liam had to be patient with me. I was confused. Before long, I realized I was pregnant. The Frenchman came after me, and I’m sure you can imagine how all that went. Eventually, he was—convincedto leave us be. But—well, this is no secret now. Brigit is his daughter biologically, not Liam’s. But as far as Liam and I are concerned, Brigit is as much Liam’s child as she is mine, and that’s all that matters.”
I press my lips together, suddenly feeling horribly guilty. “Compared to all of that, what I’ve gone through isn’t that bad. I haven’t—I haven’t endured half of that.”
“Oh, Isabella.” Ana reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s not a matter of who’s gone through more. What matters is that we understand each other. We both know what it means to be treated like a pawn by men who don’t deserve us, what it means to be bought and sold and tormented.”
Looking into her earnest blue eyes, I realize that she’s right. Shedoesunderstand, more than I could have ever thought, and I feel deeply that I can trust her. That I have at least one ally here in Ana.
“I know what it’s like to have to fight for love too,” she says quietly. “Liam was always sure of me, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t hard, or that we didn’t struggle. We had to overcome so much to be where we are now. Saoirse hurt Liam, too. She was his fiancée, after Connor left, and before Liam fell for me. She and Connor are happy now, but there was a lot of carnage between then and now.”
I press my lips together. “Niall has been really clear that he doesn’t see things working between us. I—I’ve hurt him. I wasn’t truthful with him, when we were first together. I never thought it would end up like this. I didn’t mean for it all to happen, but it did, and I feel so horribly guilty sometimes, because it’s hard to wish it all away. There’s no one else I’d rather be married to, no one’s child I’d rather have. I want him all the time,” I confess, blushing, “and I think—I think I’ve been falling in love with him. But he says, over and over, that we can’t get past our beginnings. That he can’t trust me.”
Ana pats my hand gently. “Be patient,” she advises. “Follow their rules, be there for Niall if he needs you, and don’t fight him when he tries to make sure you’re taken care of and safe. Do everything you can to show him you’re turning over a new leaf, that you’re proving yourself trustworthy. Put your focus on the baby and the future, and let things with Niall develop as they may.”
I frown. “You really think there’s a chance?”
Ana hesitates. “I think as long as the two of you are married, there’s a chance to make things work. It’s possible that it won’t. Niall has been deeply hurt in the past, and he was never focused on a wife and family anyway. This is all very much out of left field for him, and out of necessity. But Niall is someone who, when he commits to something, puts his all in it. He’s going to be devoted to your child. You’ll always be in each other’s lives. So while I can’t say for sure that it will work out between the two of you, I think you shouldn’t give up hope. There’s time, and love works in strange ways. Liam was patient with me, and in the end, we’re happier for it. His patience is the reason we’re together.”
She squeezes my hand gently, and for the first time in a long time, I feel a ray of real hope, some of the fog I’ve felt over the past weeks lifting.
---
When we’re finished with lunch and some furniture shopping, where we schedule deliveries of the things I pick out to the apartment for throughout the following week, we head back to the McGregor estate. “I can’t say sushi was my favorite,” I admit, laughing as we get back into the car. “But it wasn’tbad.”
“It’s an acquired taste,” Ana admits, laughing too.
When we pull up in front of the mansion, she turns towards me, smiling. “Do you want to come in for a little while and meet Brigit? I know you saw her the other day, but we weren’t there for long.”
“I should probably get used to being around babies,” I say ruefully, sliding out after her as we walk side by side into the huge house. I’m in no hurry to go back to the loneliness of my apartment.
It’s less homey than Caterina and Viktor’s home, more of what I would expect from a wealthy family’s estate, with spiraling staircases and marble floors, antique art and furniture everywhere, everything white-glove clean. “This way,” Ana says, gesturing to the staircase, where I follow her up to a room decorated in ballet pink, with pointe shoes hanging on the wall and a small mobile of ballerinas above a white crib.
“There’s my little one,” Ana coos as she walks towards it, scooping the baby inside into her arms. Brigit lets out a small cry, burrowing into her mother’s arms, turning towards me with bright blue eyes fixed curiously on my face. “She’s been a surprisingly good baby,” Ana says, “although I’m always afraid to say that aloud. A lot of getting up and down at night, but neither Liam or I wanted a night nurse. We have a nanny who comes if we want to go out, but otherwise we’re doing it all ourselves. I thought it was important for us three to bond, considering—”
She breaks off, and I see a flicker of sadness in her eyes. I feel a tiny spark of envy, thinking of Liam, a man who loves her so much that he was willing to love her through anything—through panic attacks, through getting over another man, through raising a child not his own blood. I want that kind of love, and I know I’ve seen flickers of it in Niall. I know the possibility for it is there—if only he wouldn’t fight it so hard.
“Do you want to hold her?” Ana shifts so that I can take Brigit in my arms, and I feel a sharp stab of fear, worry that I might drop her, or make her cry, something that would upset Ana. We’ve only just become friends, and this feels like a test, even though I know Ana doesn’t mean it like that. I don’t know very much about babies, and the second stab of fear comes from the thought that before very long, I’ll have a baby of my own, a little person I’m responsible for keeping alive and safe and taking care of.
Gingerly, I take Brigit, cradling her in my arms. She’s surprisingly light, clinging to a finger with one hand as her small mouth opens, her blue eyes still fixed on mine, startlingly bright under her shock of dark hair. I feel my chest tighten at the thought of my own baby looking similarly, if he or she gets Niall’s black hair and blue eyes.
She feels and smells warm, and I hold her closer, driven by a sudden instinct. The feeling of the tiny bundle in my arms makes tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I sniff them back as I hand Brigit back to Ana after a few moments, battling waves of emotions.
Ana peers at me. “I’m sorry, Isabella. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t.” I shake my head, brushing away the hint of tears. “I just—all this is scary. I don’t know how to be a mother. I definitely don’t feel old enough.”
“Neither do I, on both counts,” Ana says reassuringly. “You make it up as you go along, and anyone who tells you differently is lying, honestly. I promise, you’ll be just fine. And by the time you have your baby, I’ll be well out of the weeds, and able to help you. I promise, you’re not alone here, even if it feels like it sometimes.”