It’s not an order or an accusation or meant as criticism. I can see it in her gentle eyes and soft expression. Her every word was spoken with love and compassion, meant to encourage.
I smile and pull her back in for a hug. “You are the best friend I could ever ask for.”
“Remember that when I accidentally, on purpose, burn the pair of moccasins you’re wearing.”
“Hey.” I look down at my feet. “These are warm and comfortable.”
“No. Those are ugly and ancient.”
“Ancient?” I lift a brow. “I bought these a month ago.”
“Oh, my God. Was it one of those dodgy social media ads?”
I chuckle and lose the moccasins, pulling on a pair of black leather boots.
Mira’s eyes shimmer, and her lips curl at the corners. “Better. Next week, we’ll work on the tights.”
“How about I just never shop on my own again?”
“Now, that’s the best idea you’ve had in a really long time.”
“Hmm-mm.”
“Hey, listen,” she weaves her dainty fingers through her blonde hair, “I know it won’t make it any better or anything, but if you want, I could stay with you during the ultrasound. If you want.”
There’s a twinge in my chest, the thought of Alexius not being there pricking my already bleeding heart. But it is what it is, and no matter what happens between Alexius and me, I’ll have to go on. I’ll just have to survive—if not for me, for the lives growing inside me.
I give her the warmest smile my aching soul allows. “I would love that.”
“If you don’t mind, Mira, I’d like to go with Leandra.”
Both Mira and I turn to find Isaia standing by the door.
“If that’s okay with you, of course?” he asks, staring at me with his dark brown eyes. Eyes I’ve always found comfort in, and probably always will.
“I, um…”
“Oh, shit,” Mira blurts and saunters to the door, heels clicking across the floors. “I forgot I have to talk to the chef about Christmas dinner. Isaia,” she pats him on the chest, “be a gem and go with Leandra, would you?”
“I just said—”
“Thanks.” She lifts on her toes, plants a kiss on his cheek, and then wipes the lipstick stain off with her thumb. “You’re a star.”
Isaia and I just smile and roll our eyes at Mira’s attempt to not make this awkward.
“Thank you,” I say, fiddling with my thumbs. “But you don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
I sigh, my heart as heavy as my reluctance to even go for the damn ultrasound, but I muster a smile, reminding myself of what Mira said. This is not about me.
“Your face is healing well,” I say as I walk out and close the door, joining him in the hall.
“Yeah.” He touches his bottom lip, the large cut now only a tiny mark. The grotesque purple bruises have faded to a yellow-green shade, and I’m thankful Alexius didn’t hurt him any worse than he did.
He holds out his arm, and I hook my hand in the curve. “Let’s go meet my two nephews.”
“Or your two nieces.” I shrug.