43. Emily
43
EMILY
O ne month later…
It’s been weeks since Albrecht died, but the repercussions are still rippling outward. The brothels shut down, the card skimming operations long gone. The city is a safer place.
Even the cops are happy as the war between the two families was regularly leaving them to clean up the mess.
In that time, Lucas has become even more protective, if that’s even possible. He watches over me like a hawk, always making sure I’m safe, always keeping me close.
It’s sweet, and sometimes a little overwhelming, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I know how much he cares, how much he loves me, even if he doesn’t always say it.
This morning, as we get ready for my latest doctor’s appointment, I can feel tension in him. His hand rests on the small of my back as he guides me to the car, his eyes scanning the street like he’s expecting something to jump out at us.
It’s almost funny, how serious he looks, but I know better than to laugh. This is how he shows he cares—by protecting me with everything he has.
“Lucas, it’s just a doctor’s appointment,” I tease, leaning into him as we walk.
He glances down at me, his expression softening just a bit. “I’m not taking any chances,” he replies, his voice firm but gentle. “Not with you. Not with our daughter.”
“You’re sure it’s a girl?”
“As sure as I knew you were the one when I first saw you.”
My heart swells at his words, and I can’t help but smile. It’s moments like these that remind me how much he’s changed, how much we’ve both changed. We’re building something together, something real, and it’s more than I ever dreamed of.
The drive to the clinic is quiet. I reach over and squeeze his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin, the strength in his grip. He squeezes back, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.
At the clinic, the routine of the appointment calms some of Lucas’s tension. The nurse is kind, and the doctor is warm and reassuring, but I can see how closely Lucas is paying attention, his eyes never leaving the monitor as the ultrasound begins.
The room is dim, the soft hum of the machine filling the silence, and then—there she is. Our baby.
The image on the screen takes my breath away. She’s so small, just a speck but growing fast. I glance at Lucas, and the look on his face nearly undoes me.
There’s a softness in his eyes, a wonder that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. His grip tightens on my hand, and I feel a tear slip down my cheek.
“She’s beautiful,” Lucas whispers, his voice thick with emotion. He turns to the doctor, all business now, his concern for our baby clear in every word. “Is everything okay? Is she healthy?”
The doctor smiles, nodding as she goes over the details. “Everything looks great. She’s developing perfectly. You’re both doing everything right.”
“She?”
“Yep.”
Lucas looks at me. “Told you.”
I feel a swell of pride—not just for our daughter, but for Lucas. He’s going to be such a good father. I can see it in the way he looks at the screen, in the thoughtful questions he asks, in the way he holds my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Before we leave, the doctor asks if there’s likely to be any stress in my life moving forward. Lucas answers before I can, his voice steady and sure. “No. Not anymore.”
And for the first time in what feels like forever, I believe it. The stress, the fear—it’s all behind us now. We’re moving forward, together, and nothing is going to tear us apart.