Chapter 19
NINETEEN
Sebastian
“ Oh, shit , is right,” I say to Ella. “Do you want to tell us what’s going on?”
She avoids my gaze. Kingston’s, too. Her movements are slow and purposeful as she sets down the bags of groceries.
Carefully, she leans against the kitchen island on the far side from where Kingston and I are standing. She picks up the little box and shakes her head. A small smile is on her lips, but there’s no humor or happiness in it.
From her reaction, I can guess she’s not actually pregnant. But I have to ask.
“Is there something you need to tell us, princess?” I don’t mean to sound so angry, but all of my frustration, and yeah, some of my disappointment that she obviously isn’t pregnant, come to the surface.
Her eyes immediately fill with tears. Kingston’s at her side in an instant, the sucker.
“I’m sorry,” she says, taking his hand. “I was just so, so stupid, and I got myself all worked up over nothing.”
“So there’s no pregnancy,” Kingston guesses aloud.
“There’s no pregnancy,” she says. “I didn’t think there was, not really, but I couldn’t remember when I last had my period, and the way Gianna told me how she got pregnant—while using an IUD—freaked me the hell out.”
No pregnancy. It’s okay, I guess. I don’t know why I’m feeling sad about it. Thirty minutes ago, I had no idea this was even a possibility, so having the chance taken away right now shouldn’t be a big deal at all.
“Bash?” Ella says.
I still haven’t moved.
Kingston clears his throat.
“You’re upset with me,” Ella says.
“I guess,” I say, “I’m a little angry. You were freaked out, you felt stupid. I understand those emotions. What I don’t understand is why you were feeling them in the first place and not talking to us about it .”
Ella gnaws on her lower lip. “You’re right.
I should have. I don’t have a very good reason, other than I was just freaked out, like I said.
A part of me wondered if you guys would think I got pregnant on purpose, like Kingston’s ex-wife did.
Or if you would believe it was an accident, but not want the baby.
I didn’t even know if I would want to keep a baby right now.
There was a lot going through my head. I worried you’d be mad and want to break up, too. ”
“Ella, what part of forever, no matter what , don’t you understand?” Kingston asks.
She smiles over at him. “Well, now I realize it was dumb to think you’d want to break up. But in the moment, I was panicking.”
“And then afterward? How long ago did you take the test?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“We were together after that, and you didn’t say anything?” Kingston asks.
“Well,” she says, “sometimes I need space to feel my feelings, I guess.”
I give up—I can’t stay mad at her. And she’s right—her feelings are her own. As much as I’d like to extend my control into her psyche so all she ever feels is happiness and light, that’s not how people work.
I go around the kitchen island and wrap my arms around her. “I wish we could’ve felt those feelings with you, but I understand, I think. You needed time to process everything, is what you’re saying?”
“Yes, exactly.” She squeezes my forearms where they come around her waist, then moves my hands so they rest against her lower belly. “In the future, where do you two stand on children? Yes, no, maybe? What happens in the event of an unplanned pregnancy?”
“I always thought it would be cool to be a dad,” I admit.
“But for so long, I thought I was an abusive piece of shit, and an alcoholic. No way did I want to bring a child into the world and have them stuck with me for a father. Ella, if you had been pregnant and if you’d wanted to keep the baby, I would’ve been there with you, a hundred percent of the way. ”
Kingston’s quiet, but there’s no mistaking the glittering desire in his eyes as he looks at my hands cupping Ella’s tummy.
“I’ve done the dad thing before,” he finally says, “and as you both witnessed, I failed miserably for one reason and another. Nothing scares me more than fucking up all over again.”
“Kingston,” Ella whispers, “it wasn’t all your fault.”
“Some of the fault is mine.” He shakes his head. “But with you two, I might be brave enough to try someday. It would be better if we planned ahead, but if there was an accidental pregnancy, Ella, I wouldn’t be against it, at all. I would embrace you and the baby, both.
Smiling, Ella tugs him in closer for more of a hug.
“There,” King says. “Was that enough talking like ‘motherfucking adults,’ Bash?”
Ella’s laughter echoes musically throughout the kitchen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’d love an explanation.”
“We’ll explain while we cook,” Kingston says, and we move in the kitchen, explaining the conversation King and I had before Ella came home, and helping her make french toast and bacon and it’s so fucking domestic, it makes my chest ache.
Someday, we might bring a baby into our midst, and the idea terrifies me a little and delights me a lot.
* * *
Ella
The guys’ reaction to my pregnancy scare went better than I could’ve imagined. I’m annoyed with myself for not talking to them, but what I told Bash was true—I do need space to feel my feelings sometimes. And having two boyfriends who are hyperfocused on me sometimes makes that difficult.
Not complaining, though…especially when that hyperfocus manifests in the bedroom. Or, like last night, against the kitchen island as the dinner mess is getting cleaned up.
I’m just walking out of Mrs. Dali’s apartment building—my former apartment building—after a visit with Mrs. Dali, when my phone buzzes with an incoming call. The screen says it’s Gianna, so I pick up. She’s nearly thirty-nine weeks along, which means any call could be go-time.
“Hey, everything all right?” I ask.
“I’m so sorry to bother you,” she says, sniffling, “but I have a doctor’s appointment and I missed the bus, and I hate to abuse your generosity when you’ve been nothing but nice to me so far, but?—”
“Stop apologizing,” I say. “I’m on my way, and I want to help, and please don’t feel bad. Okay?”
She sniffles again and weakly says, “Okay.”
“Where are you? Can you drop me your location?”
“Yeah. I’ll do that now.”
“I’m on my way.”
I give Terrence and Roman Gianna’s coordinates, and we’re in front of her apartment in the Old Thirty-Three in no time.
She climbs into the back seat with me, looking more rotund than ever. I know better than to comment on how big she is, but wow. That’s a lot of pregnant belly.
She’s no longer sniffling, but her eyes and nose are red. Reaching over, I take her hand in mine.
“Talk to me,” I say. “What’s going on?”
“I’m just so damned sad,” she says. “I don’t think Tom’s going to come back before our baby is born. He’s going to miss the birth, and my aunt said she’ll come with me for support, but I just really want Tom there, you know? And then I had to go and miss the stupid bus and bother you again .”
“It’s no bother,” I tell her, giving her hand a little squeeze. “And I know nothing about giving birth, but I’m happy to stand in for Tom if you want. It’s not the same—at all—but if it’s something you want, I’ll be there.”
Her greenish-blue eyes fill with tears all over again. “Really? You’d do that?”
“I would love to! This is my little niece or nephew we’re talking about. I can’t think of anything more special than being in the room while they’re born. Do you want me there?”
“I do,” she says.
I make a mental note to look up how best to support someone during childbirth. Given the size of Gianna’s pregnant belly, we’re probably out of time for attending any birthing classes together. I’ll be surprised if the baby lasts one more week in there.
We get to the medical clinic with just two minutes to spare.
“Thank you again,” Gianna whispers.
I park myself in the waiting room, and her eyebrows go up.
“You don’t have to stay,” she says, “I can take the bus home.”
I make a show of getting comfy and selecting a magazine from one of the little tables. “I like it here, and the Ironwood car has better air conditioning than the bus.”
“I’d lean over to hug you if I didn’t think a baby would fall out of my vagina,” she says.
A woman in the waiting room gives us a disapproving look. I cackle, and Terrence snorts back a laugh from his station near the door.
Gianna is ushered back for her appointment. I read an article about classic cars until Gianna comes back out again.
“Everything’s going great,” she says with a tired smile. “The doctor said any day now. She said that last time, too, though.”
“Excellent. Let’s get you home so you can put your feet up.”
She tilts forward far enough so she can see her toes. “Yeah, they’re starting to look like swollen hobbit feet.”
The stairs at her apartment complex nearly do her in, but she gets up them like a champion.
We come to her and Tommy’s door, where the potted geranium flowers are still bright and cheery, just like the last time I was here.
I see them now for what they are—Gianna’s influence on domesticating my brother.
Gianna opens the door, but Terrence stops us before either of us can go inside. He nods at Roman, who goes in first.
“I don’t know that I could ever get used to this,” Gianna says, gesturing between me and Terrence.
“It took a while,” I say, “but now we’re practically BFFs, right, Terrence?”
He’s trying not to smile as he says, “I don’t know what a BFF is.”
Roman calls out that the place is clear, so Terrence motions that we can go in.
“Feet up,” I say, escorting Gianna to the sofa. “You must be exhausted.”
“Those stairs are a bitch,” she says with a laugh.
“Can I get you something to eat or drink?” I ask.
“Yeah, there’s some generic fruity mineral water in the refrigerator. I’d love one of those. Help yourself, too.”
As I move toward the kitchen area, I notice a baby swing set up in the corner of the room, as well as some other new touches, most of them gifts from the baby shower.
Seeing me looking at them, Gianna grins. “It’s a shame Tom couldn’t get his hands on that inheritance, but thanks to you and your friends, this baby is still going to be set up for success.”
I pause in front of the refrigerator. “Inheritance?”
“Yeah, the safe deposit box that your dad left for you two?”
It’s the first I’ve heard of any such thing. I pour mineral water for both of us and go back into the living room. I had Gianna hers and sit down in the easy chair next to the sofa.
“Gianna,” I say, “I don’t know why Tommy told you there was a safe deposit box, but there isn’t one.”
“Oh, shit,” she says. “I thought you knew. I thought both of you were working together to get it figured out…and when you couldn’t, that’s what caused you two to fight? But there definitely is a box.”
I shake my head. “You know about Tommy’s gambling issues, right?”
“Yes.” She sighs. “He’s been promising to get better, and I guarantee, he hadn’t been gambling before he disappeared. But I think he must still owe a lot of money.”
“Are you sure he wasn’t just spinning you a tale?” I ask. “I mean, I know you love him—I love him too—but he’s not always completely honest when it comes to money.”
She points to a mosaic glass box in the middle of the coffee table. “The key’s in there. We can get into the bank and everything—I even went with Tom a couple of times. But without the password, he can’t access the box.”
I don’t know what to tell her. I don’t know what to believe. The most likely thing going on is that Tommy made the whole thing up to reassure his pregnant girlfriend that he could be a supportive partner. I wouldn’t put it past him to deceive her like that—he’s done far worse.
If Dad had left a safe deposit box, he would’ve told me, right?