Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
CIARA
Someday.
Ronan wants kids, someday.
I hope someday means in roughly seven months because that’s when I’ll be birthing his child, and all I can do is hope that he’ll be happy about it.
It’s been three days since we talked, and Ronan admitted to wanting a family, but his words were anything but reassuring to me.
In fact, they had the opposite effect. They’ve been playing on a loop in my head, sending me spiraling to the point where I can’t tell if my nausea is from the pregnancy or my anxiety.
I know Ronan didn’t mean for his words to hurt me. In fact, I’m sure he thought he was reassuring me. But all I could hear was the subtle pause before he offered me an answer. An answer that has left me feeling empty because the thing is, I don’t have someday. I have now.
I have a six-week-old life growing inside me, and every morning when I wake up and look in the mirror, it’s like the secret is etched deeper into my skin, and at some point, I won’t be able to hide it anymore.
The effect this pregnancy is having is clear in the deep purple shadows under my eyes and in the slight ache in my breasts.
How Ronan hasn’t figured it out is beyond me, considering the fact I can barely stomach a few crackers. But then again, he’s hardly been around, too busy focusing on the O’Keefe brothers to pay much attention to my eating habits.
But at some point, my bump will start to grow, and it won’t be something I can hide behind oversized sweaters. Not only that, but I don’t want to hide it. I want to share this experience with my husband.
My husband who wants kids someday…
I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, dripping wet and naked after my shower, staring down at my abdomen.
My hand hovers over my still-flat stomach, and my throat starts to thicken.
Will he be angry when I tell him? Will he blame me?
He’s made himself very clear that he isn’t thinking about having children right now, and this baby isn’t going anywhere.
I try to mentally prepare myself for every possible outcome that could happen when I tell Ronan he’s going to be a father, but so far, every single one I've come up with isn’t good. So, I continue to keep my mouth shut and hope he’ll change his mind before my bump starts to show.
I stay standing in front of the mirror until I start to shiver from the cold, so I hastily dry myself with a towel and throw on some sweats before heading down the hall to the guest room where Mila’s been staying.
Yesterday was Max’s funeral, and while it was small, with only close family in attendance, Ronan and I stood in the shadows of the trees to support Mila from a distance, watching silently as they lowered the coffin.
It was both beautiful and devastating at the same time.
My eyes still hurt from crying, but Mila barely shed a tear. It was as if she had used them all up in the days following Max’s murder. She stood at the edge of the grave with this hollow sort of stillness, her head bowed and her shoulders slumped as her dark hair hung about her face.
Ronan didn’t let go of my hand the entire time, squeezing my fingers every so often to remind me that I wasn’t alone.
But having him beside me only made me cry harder; though that also could have been due to the pregnancy hormones.
.. Either way, I’m grateful that we made up before the funeral because I’m not sure I would have been able to get through it without him.
Max should have had decades, and instead, he’s in the ground, all because someone wanted to send a message. I sometimes forget how cruel this world that I live in is. But that moment, watching my best friend bury her brother, was one hell of a reminder.
I knock on Mila’s door before pushing it open to find her standing at the end of her bed, sorting out her things.
Ronan didn’t want her going back to her apartment to get clothes, so instead, he gave her his card and had her order whatever she needed to the house.
For all his faults, Ronan Sullivan really can be very sweet when he tries.
I lean against the door frame as I watch Mila fold her clothes. “Are you sure you’re ready to go?”
Mila glances up at me with a sad smile. Even though her eyes are still red and her complexion is pale, she looks almost like her old self again.
“I think it’s time.”
“You could stay a little longer, just until—”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Ciara. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you, and Ronan for that matter, which is never something I thought I would say…”
I chuckle as I push off the door frame and come to perch on the edge of the enormous bed, tucking my feet up underneath me.
She zips up her bag. “But I need to go home and get back into normal life. If I stay, I’m just going to keep wallowing in my grief, and I think Max would’ve hated that.”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.
She reaches for her bag and lifts it off the bed before taking a seat beside me and picking at her cuticles. “I booked an appointment with that grief counselor next week.”
I manage a smile. “That’s great. Do you want me to come with you?”
Mila considers it for a moment but shakes her head. “I think I need to do this one alone. But thank you.”
I shift on the bed so I can wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly. “I’m going to miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too. But we can go back to having our lunches at the deli and our wine and gossip nights—”
I pull back. “What?”
“We can’t have wine nights.” She glances down at my stomach.
“Well, you can drink enough for the two of us.” But the mention of my pregnancy has my stomach twisting once again.
Mila touches my arm. “Maybe with me gone, you’ll finally grow a pair and tell Ronan about the baby.”
I exhale as I run my fingers through my damp hair. “I’ll tell him.”
“When?” Mila gives me her signature look, which has most men running for the hills.
I cower under the weight of her gaze. “Soon.”
“Soon better mean this week because the longer you wait, the worse you’ll feel.”
“I know.”
“Just think about all the exciting things to come. The baby shower, decorating the nursery, all the tiny clothes.”
I can’t help but smile, but not because of everything Mila is saying, but from the look in her eyes as she says it.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her eyes light up since Max died, and it’s almost enough to bring me to tears.
Perhaps this baby is a blessing in disguise, not just for me and Ronan, but for Mila too.
“And you’ll be the favorite aunt, considering the amount of testosterone in this family.”
Mila chuckles. “This poor kid. They’ll take one look at the Sullivan clan and try to climb back inside the womb.”
I throw my head back and laugh for the first time in almost two weeks.
Mila smiles, and for a moment, it’s like our grief simply vanishes.
“Anyway, Ronan will likely freak out because all men do, so expect that and give him a break. It took you this long to come clean to him, so he deserves some slack too. Though I think his freak-out will be in a good way.”
“You really think so?”
“Ronan cares about you, Ciara, more than you think. I see the way he looks at you… That man is smitten.”
My cheeks warm at her words. “Let’s hope you’re right.”
“Oh, I’m always right.”
I help Mila finish packing up the last of her things, and we carry the bags downstairs to where Cormac and Ronan are waiting in the foyer, looking like a pair of bouncers outside a nightclub.
Both of them are dressed in black shirts and slacks that hug their muscular physiques. Though Cormac is slightly leaner, Ronan’s shirt looks like it’s fit to bursting as it clings to his biceps.
As I walk over to him, I catch a whiff of his musky aftershave that sends a rush of heat spreading between my thighs.
Goddamned pregnancy hormones.
Ronan’s eyes meet mine, and my breath catches as they darken.
I swear, sometimes this man can read my thoughts. But as much as I want to drag him upstairs to bed, I need to keep my attention on Mila.
She stops in front of Ronan. “Thank you again. For everything.”
“You are welcome here anytime.” He peels his eyes away from mine to give his full attention to my friend. “And if you ever feel unsafe, say the word, and I’ll send one of my guys over to bring you back.”
“I appreciate that.”
I wrap my arms around her. “Call me the minute you get home. Promise?”
“I promise.”
I pull back and glance at Cormac. “Take care of her.”
He dips his chin at me before picking up Mila’s bags and carrying them out to the car.
With one last hug goodbye, I stand in the doorway and watch the car disappear from sight. Even when the sound of the car is long gone, I can’t find it in me to move.
Ronan appears at my side.
He presses a kiss to my temple. “I need to go back to work. Will you be all right?”
I nod, though the absence of Mila already feels suffocating as I step back into the foyer and close the door behind me.
Ronan offers me one last kiss before disappearing down the hall, his footsteps giving way to silence once the door to his office clicks shut.
Then I’m alone.
I wander into the living room and sit on the edge of the sofa, my hands resting on my stomach. There’s no bump yet, but I know it’s coming, and the thought has my stomach fluttering.
“It’s just you and me right now, little one.” And just like that, the silence feels less lonely.
Still, fear creeps in, and I lean back against the couch cushions and close my eyes as I wait for it to pass.
Now that Mila is gone and we’re all starting to find our new normal, I can’t help but think of my future.
Even if Ronan is happy, even if he tells me he wants this, it won’t change the reality that I’ll likely be raising this baby mostly on my own.
I don’t think it will be on purpose, but right now, even when he’s with me, I can tell he’s not mentally present.
His mind is too distracted, too focused on work, and that’s not going to change anytime soon.
If anything, it will likely only get worse, and I’m scared that I’ll grow to resent him.
I’m scared that one day, I’ll look into my child’s eyes and see all the pieces of my life that I gave up just to keep them safe.
But most of all, I’m scared that I’ll be left to raise this child alone while Ronan goes out to fight in wars that he might not win.