Lucian Divine(49)

“The old ball and chain, huh? Been married a few days and you’re already fighting and in trouble?”

“No, it’s not like that,” I said, but it kind of was. “I just wanted to know if you had ever heard of anything like this happening?”

“What?” Leo said.

“Angels falling for their souls and what happens to them. Can they have babies?”

He laughed. “Fallen angel, what a cliché.”

“Yeah, I know. Just tell me though.”

“No, I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

“I got to go.” I threw some cash on the bar and waved to Han.

He smiled and waved back.

“Bye,” Leo called but didn’t turn around. “Good luck with all that cosmic shit you’re fucking with.”

“Asshole,” I said under my breath.

I texted Evey.



Me: B home n 5

Evey: Can you get me some Cherry Garcia?



Ice cream cravings already? That was a good sign.



Me: Of course!



When I came in holding a pint of Evey’s favorite ice cream, she was smiling and as happy as ever. “There’s my prince,” she said.

“I have a feeling that anyone holding a pint of Cherry Garcia would be your prince.”

“Not true,” she sang. “Have you been drinking?”

“Yes, but I know my limit now.”

“Good.” She kissed my nose while she took the ice cream from my hand.

“Can I lick this off of you?” I asked.

“Best idea you’ve had, husband.”

Things finally felt right again. I was licking ice cream off of Evey’s thighs, and heaven was here on Earth. I was sure of that.





I COULDN’T BELIEVE that Lucian was searching Want Ads for a job. He was lying next to me in our bed, circling ads and laughing at how overqualified he was.

“This one says, ‘Must be bilingual.’ Should I put on my résumé that I speak seventeen languages?”

“Don’t be arrogant. People don’t like arrogant.”

He rolled over and kissed my tummy. “Hello, baby.” He looked up at me. “Should we find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“We can find out at the next ultrasound.” So far, everything was coming along perfectly. We were pregnant with an actual baby, as far as the doctor could tell.

He yawned. “Are you tired?”

“Yeah, but not that tired. It’s only seven,” I said.

“Mm, I can’t wait to meet you,” he said to my stomach.

I was eleven weeks pregnant. We were a family. Lucian and I had fights, but we were a family, and we were working things out and figuring out how to be normal.

“You have an interview tomorrow, don’t you? At that financial firm?”

“Yeah. I’m going to drive you to work, then I’ll pick you up,” he said.

“Okay.”

In the morning, we got up like it was any other day. Lucian made my favorite breakfast—avocado on toast with olive oil and tomato. I smiled when I took it from him. “You’re too good to me.”

“It’s only because you’re carrying my baby,” he said with a smirk.

“By the way, I meant to ask you. Does our little one have an angel hanging around?”

He squinted and shook his head slowly. “No, it’s just you and me until she’s born.”

“She? You know?”

“No, no, just have a feeling. Wishful thinking, I guess.”

“You want a girl then?”

“I’d be happy either way, but yeah, I was just thinking how beautiful and kind-hearted she’d be… like her mom.”

We drove across the bridge as Lucian sang along to Leon Bridges. “You have a good voice,” I told him.

“So do you.”

“You’ve never heard me sing.”

“Evey, I’ve heard you sing a million times.”

I blushed. That’s right—he’d heard everything. “That’s not fair.”

“Sing with me.”

I tried to sing along but couldn’t hold a candle to Lucian’s singing. He said he’d been doing it longer, which was a silly understatement. He dropped me at Tracey’s warehouse, and then headed off for his job interview.

As he was pulling away, he stopped the car, rolled down the window, and said, “Check your messenger bag. I made you lunch so you don’t have to leave. Please don’t leave here without me. Text me if anything comes up.”

“Don’t worry about me. Good luck.” I kissed him once more through the open window.

I spent the morning doing sketches for Tracey, and by lunch, I was starving and feeling woozy. I hadn’t texted Lucian because I didn’t want to distract him, but I was feeling mildly crampy. By two o’clock, the cramps were getting worse. I called Dr. Smythe.

“You should come in, Evelyn, so we can do an ultrasound and check you out. If it gets worse, go to the ER.”

As soon as I pressed End on the phone, I texted Lucian.



Me: I’m feeling crampy. Gonna ask Tracey to drive me to the doctor’s.