Chapter 25
Em
April light feels different in Darkhaven. I suppose I’m used to living elsewhere and traveling a lot. It was the lifestyle I had before stepping out of that ship one late February day.
That day feels so far away now. So many moments have come to pass.
Last month, I learned I was pregnant with Idris’ child.
He asked Lix and Stan to watch over me while he handled a feat more impossible than cleaning up the blood from my failed experiment.
He was navigating much murkier waters—evading his father who was after his heart.
Though Darius helped Set ultimately achieve that, he also helped Idris survive by giving him a mechanical heart.
Since our last farewell, I haven’t seen Idris.
But I trust him, with Damon’s help, to be kept safe and sound from Set’s clutches.
I heard that Damon is protecting Darius too.
I can only hope he’s reunited with his son, and perhaps even Idris.
I know how much they mean to each other, especially now that all’s been exposed, at least within those living in the Knights’ estate.
The secrets stay with the Song-Smiths, and I…belong here too, with them, with these people I’ve found have become my family.
For the many weeks that have flown by, our family has shared many meals, many stories, and more and more shared ambitions. All of which align with our first mission—to clean up Darkhaven. Lessen its crime rate. Give people cleaner Kys.
The thought sometimes weighs heavy on my shoulders.
But with Lix and Stan by my side, it becomes less haunting in my mind and less daunting as a duty.
It’s returning as one of my dreams again, to want a cleaner compound of Kys that will bring the best out of its users.
Not the worst, and certainly, not in a manner that risks their welfare.
But such ambition can wait for a while. We have a bigger priority presently.
At this very moment, I’m on my way to see my gynecologist.
I sigh, my breathing a bit labored, though I don’t want to worry Lix and Stan, who are in the car with me.
This should be a day of excitement, not trepidation, since today’s the day we learn the biological sex of our baby.
Stan’s red sports car shines under the spring sun. Its hood catches bright slices of sky through the trees, and I can see my own reflection in the windshield’s glass—hair freshly cut by Elle, my glasses on, and my expression composed in a manner I’ve learned to present as default.
I’m reclined in the passenger seat farther than is necessary, only because the boys insisted I do this since my lower back has been in mild pain lately.
My hand rests over my abdomen, rubbing slow circles over the slight protrusion that still feels rather surreal when I look down at it.
Four months. A number that should be ordinary. Instead, it holds so much significance. Time truly has flown past us, almost as fast as Stan drives.
To my left, Stan has one hand on the steering wheel and the other tapping along to the music, sunglasses on and mouth smiling. He glances at me more often than a person should while operating a vehicle, but each time he does, I give him a quiet warning glare to focus on the road.
In the back seat, Lix leans forward toward me, and I feel his touch on my shoulders. His hands move carefully, massaging the back of my neck with silent attention. It should be relaxing. It is relaxing. But that doesn’t mean I get to ignore the detail that catches my peripheral vision.
His seatbelt isn’t positioned correctly if he’s able to reach me this well.
I turn my head and see that his seatbelt’s strap is utterly slack, not secured.
“Lix,” I say.
His hands stop their soothing motions. His eyes meet mine, brows lifting, as though he’s prepared to comply but wants to know exactly what he did wrong.
“You’re not wearing your seatbelt properly,” I state.
He blinks, then glances down at it. “But I’m wearing it.”
“It’s not secured,” I reply. “The strap is loose. If we stop suddenly, it won’t protect you.”
He exhales through his nose. “I just wanted to reach you, Em.”
“It’s appreciated, but I’d rather you secure yourself correctly.”
Lix’s mouth twitches as if he’s fighting a smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
Stan’s chuckle breaks through the front seat. “Ooh, I love this,” he says. “Love it when you’re the one getting scolded for once, Ocean Eyes.”
Lix tries to adjust the belt. He glances at me again like he’s hoping I’ll accept the attempt.
I don’t. Raising my brow at him, I frown disapprovingly.
He sighs and does it properly this time, pulling it snug, and clicking it into place.
When he leans forward again, his fingers return to my shoulders, lighter now, given the distance.
Stan’s smile stretches. “Good teamwork, babe,” he says. “We can’t stress Em out today, or Idris’ hard work is gonna be for nothin’.”
Lix huffs, and I frown deeper at how he phrased that.
Stan continues. “God knows this is the only chance he’ll get ‘cause every baby outta Em after this one is gonna be ours, Ocean Eyes.”
Lix’s hands still on my shoulders. I groan, slumping into the seat some more.
“Stan,” I say, scolding him as well. “Please remain focused on the road.”
He laughs, but he at least faces forward. “Yes, doc.”
Lix clears his throat and resumes massaging my shoulders with more care than before.
His thumbs press into a tense spot near my shoulder blade, easing it with patient pressure.
“You okay?” he whispers.
I rub my abdomen again. “I am,” I answer truthfully. “Thank you both for coming with me to this appointment.”
Stan’s voice floats in as I close my eyes and relax. “Like we’d miss this, Em.”
I melt under Lix’s hands as we drive deeper into town, toward the office where the doctor will let us know if we’ll be naming the life inside me after their father or my mother. Two people who mean an astounding amount to me, but can’t be here for different reasons.
A small, bitter smile spreads across my cheeks as I try not to cry. I tell myself that it’s hormones, but I also remind myself that it’s alright to feel. It’s expected. It’s okay. It’s normal.
Soon, Stan parks us at the clinic.
The engine cuts, and for a moment the car ticks as it cools, spring air drifting in when Stan opens his door.
I open my eyes and see the clinic’s brick facade. The sight looks familiar now, no longer an unknown variable after visiting it a few times the past month.
Lix is moving before I can undo my seatbelt. “Easy,” he whispers, opening my door and offering his hand.
“I’m quite capable of exiting a vehicle,” I tell him, but I take his hand anyway because it makes him smirk.
Stan opens the clinic door, holding it wide with a flourish. “After you, my loves!”
Inside, the air smells faintly of disinfectant and something floral meant to soften it. The reception desk is staffed by the same associate we’ve seen every visit, large glasses low on her nose.
“Morning, you three,” she says with a polite smile. “Always good to see you all.”
“Mornin’ to you too, Ann,” Stan replies warmly, as though they’re old friends. “How’s the new grandbaby? Sleeping through the night yet?”
Her face lights up. “He slept so well yesterday after we gave him some warm milk and something sweet.”
“Oh no,” Stan says, putting his sunglasses up. “He’s manipulating hearts at that tiny age? Must run in the family. Who’s the sly one in yours? Don’t tell me it’s you!”
Lix stays close to my side while Stan continues to chat, and Ann manages to check us in with some swift clicks on her keyboard.
When we’re directed to the waiting area, Lix guides me toward the chairs. As soon as I’m seated, he hands me some water.
As I drink, his hand finds mine, fingers threading together.
Stan paces lightly, chatting with a nurse about her upcoming vacation, and congratulating an expecting couple across the room. He even tries to convince them to name their unborn child after him, making me laugh and lean on Lix.
He squeezes my hand. “Still okay there, Em?” he whispers.
“Yes,” I answer. “There’s this feeling of heightened anticipatory response, but it’s within tolerable parameters, considering I’m pregnant.”
He smiles at that, kissing my cheek. “That means you’re excited, right?”
“I am,” I admit, smiling back at him.
The door to the back hallway opens, and the doctor steps out, clipboard tucked under her arm. “Emira?” she calls, eyes finding me. “And your entourage.”
Stan straightens. “That’s us!”
Lix keeps his hand in mine as we rise, his other hovering protectively at my back, while Stan holds the door for us.
The examination room has become familiar to me too—dimmed lights, clean surfaces, and the low drone of equipment.
The doctor gestures for me to lie down on the narrow bed, and Lix helps me up with quiet care, placing the water within reach before taking his position beside me.
Stan plants himself on the other side, hands on the railing, gray eyes eager.
The doctor smiles. “Lovely to see you all again,” she says, washing her hands at the corner sink of a long counter with medical instruments. “How have we been feeling since last time?”
“Quite well,” I answer honestly. “Some fatigue in the afternoons. Occasional nausea, but it’s been manageable.”
“You’re right on track then, Emira,” she says, nodding as she pulls on gloves. “Four months is right around when things start to feel a bit more…present.”
Stan scoffs, crossing his arms. “That’s a polite way of saying her body’s building a whole-ass human, Doctor Pohl.”
“That’s true, Stan,” the doctor replies, which makes Stan grin as though he’s been validated after reading books about pregnancy and parenting since mid-March. He’s made us read mpreg in turn, which still baffles me, but if it makes him happy, I don’t mind indulging in fictional reads.
Lix squeezes my hand, bringing me back to the present. “Hey, Em, all good?” he murmurs.
“Yes,” I say. “I was merely lost in thought, my love.”