Bang(93)

Declan takes my face in his hands and assures me, “It’s going to be okay. I know you’re scared right now, but I’m not going anywhere.”

“She told me that the baby probably wouldn’t make it through the pregnancy though.”

“Why?”

“Because I have too many lesions. She said they would keep a close eye on me. I have another appointment in two weeks.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You can’t, Declan,” I tell him. “Bennett is the one that found me this doctor. She knows he’s my husband.”

He grinds his teeth, causing his jaw to flex before hissing his words, “That’s my f*cking baby, right?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell him you’re pregnant?”

“No,” I respond, and then drop my head, admitting, “I’m scared, Declan. I’m scared for him to know.” I look up, trying to contain the new slew of tears that threaten when I say, “I can’t tell him. He can’t know.”

“He’s going to find out, but you’re not telling him without me by your side,” he says, and the reality of this situation is starting to really hit me. “I know you’re scared, but you’re going to have to leave him.”

“Declan—”

“You’re leaving him,” he demands.

“Just give me a little time.”

“Fuck, Nina. All I’ve been doing is giving you time.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but it isn’t that easy. I’ll leave him; I will,” I say, trying to convince him, but I can no longer distinguish between truth and lies. I don’t know what the f*ck I’m doing. I’m just panicking at this point when all I really want to do is run away with Declan. For us to go to Scotland, have a baby, and leave this nightmare of a life behind.

“I don’t want him f*cking touching you anymore, do you understand me? You have my baby inside of you now. That f*cker’s not going to touch you,” he bites with gravel in his voice and I don’t even flinch when I agree. “Did he leave yet?”

“Late last night,” I tell him. “He’s gone for the rest of this week.”

He nods his head, and I let my body slack into his, resting the top of my head to his chest. His hands come around the back of my neck and into my hair as I mumble, “I really am scared, Declan.”

“I know, darling. I’m going to take care of you though,” he says, and when I draw back and lift my head, he places his hand on my flat stomach, adding, “I’m going to take care of both of you.”

His words make me smile. I run my hand over his, and I want to believe with everything I have that this baby is his.

“I heard its heartbeat,” I murmur and his voice is barely an audible whisper when he asks, “You did?”

“Yeah. It’s fast,” I tell him. “They gave me a picture too.”

I reach over to my purse and pull out the marshmallow photo and hand it to Declan. He stares down at it, and I watch his eyes gloss over in tears. He doesn’t try to hide his emotions as he gets lost in the image.

“I didn’t think it would look this real, with arms and legs,” he chokes out around his tears.

“I’m almost ten weeks, so we missed the stage of the baby looking like a blob,” I say as I let go of a sad laugh.

“Ten weeks?”

“I’m due in October,” I tell him, and he finally looks up from the photo. His cheeks are damp, and I move to my knees, cup my hands along his jaw, and in the same loving way he does with me, I gently lick his tears away.





TODAY IS THE last day I have with Declan before I have to leave. Bennett returns this evening and I’ve been a wreck all morning. I’m scared and nervous that Bennett will know I’m pregnant, that somehow he’ll be able to tell. But I’m also sad, because for these past few days since telling Declan, I’ve allowed myself to believe that this baby is his and that we’re going to make this work. It’s all a lie though. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but whatever it is, I want to do it with Declan. I don’t even want to imagine going back to a life where he doesn’t exist for me.

I’ve never come across anyone like him. His intensity is entirely consuming, and when I’m not with him, all I can think about are ways I can sneak around to get to him. It’s like he’s the oxygen I need to survive, and when he’s gone I’m suffocating. I don’t know if love is supposed to feel this way, but it’s all I know, and it’s all with him.

“How are you feeling, darling?” Declan asks as he walks into the bathroom.

“Better. The heating pad just can’t do what a hot bath can.”

“You’ve been in here a long time.”

Sinking down into the hot water, I look up at Declan as he stands over me and admire him. His square jaw, covered in day old stubble, the hard lines of his chest that are noticeable through his shirt, the roped muscles of his shoulders and arms. He’s a beautiful man, casual in his dark jeans and bare feet, and suddenly, I’m mourning the loss of him as he blurs on the other side of the tears that flood my eyes.

Squatting down on the balls of his feet, he crosses his arms over his knees, asking, “What’s wrong?” softly, his brows pinching in worriment.