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I know she shifted away from discussing her father, as she probably will for some time. My chest aches all over at how she had to handle that situation on her own. If I’d been there, keeping her safe like I promised, maybe she wouldn’t have had to.

The ugly guilt rises, mingling with my still smoldering anger at her leaving, but I shove it away, unwilling to taint this moment with her. This moment when we celebrate the new life she’s bringing into the world and into our family.

I lean in and touch my forehead to hers. “I know we didn’t discuss it much when we got married, but I’ve always wanted a child of my own. A baby to erase the sins of my own father, to show light, and love, and joy to.”

Her eyes snap open, and she pulls back to meet my gaze. “Our child’s life will never be like ours. Not ever. I won’t allow it to be raised thinking it’s hated or have him feeling like a target.” Her voice trembles with her conviction. As if she can say the words forcefully enough to bring them into existence.

But she doesn’t need to convince me. Not about this. “He will never, ever feel like we did growing up. I promise you, Angel. He’ll feel safe, powerful, and protected every single day of his life.”

“What if it’s a girl?” she teases.

I nip at her bottom lip, making her squeak backward. “Then she will feel safe, powerful, and protected. But I can’t guarantee she’ll appreciate it when she gets older, especially when men come sniffing around.”

She laughs and cups my cheeks again, her hands warm and firm as they mold to my face. “I’m sure. But Mom will be here to make sure you guys don’t get out of hand with it.”

Mom. I almost choke at the word on her lips. Mom. Fucking hell, we are going to be parents. It hits me all over again in a wave of anxiety. How can anyone prepare for this and think they are actually ready for the moment?

Her fingers slip down my jaw and curl around the sides of my neck as if she can’t keep herself from touching me now that she’s started. “You don’t know how badly I needed to hear all of this. I never expected you to be the kind of person to hurt a child, but I guess I just needed reassurance. To feel like you know exactly what I want in case something happens.”

I jerk and knock her hands away, seizing her arms. “Nothing will happen.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but I shake my head slowly. “Nothing. Will. Happen.”

This time, she gulps and stays silent until I loosen my hold on her. Only then does she speak, but slowly, as if I might detonate with the wrong word. “Both of our mothers thought they had all the time in the world too. Losing them did terrible things to our fathers.”

I snort. “I’m pretty sure both of our fathers were terrible people before they lost them.”

“It didn’t help to send them in the right direction. I need to make clear that I want our baby to be protected and cherished, no matter what. No matter how you feel if something happens to me.”

I swallow hard and meet her gaze, boring into mine. “Nothing is going to happen to you, and I refuse to allow the thought into the conversation. But I hear what you’re saying. But what I have that our fathers didn’t is my five…they would kill me rather than watch me turn into either of our fathers.”

It hits me all over that Victor will never meet my son. His absence I’ve had to power through is a hole open and aching inside me.

She searches my eyes for a second and then nods, satisfied. There’s an edge to her voice when she speaks again. “Good. Not that I want anything to happen to you, but…growing up, I’d rather not have a father than the one I’d been left with after my mother’s death. No child should endure that, or the feeling they are worthless to their own parent.”

When she leans forward and wraps her arms around me, the jewelry we both forgot about catches on my shirt.

She freezes and stares down at the diamonds again. “I should get this off so I can dress, and we can talk some more. Make plans. I know we have time, but things are volatile right now with the council.”

I help strip away the jewels and lay them on the bedside table for her to arrange in her jewelry box later. When she climbs out of bed, I rake my eyes down her bare skin, intent on cataloging any changes. Of course, nothing is different. She looks a little thin from her time away, but I can fix that easily enough.


Tags: J.L. Beck Crime