25. Nolan
I had no intention of having sex with Erik.
The plan was simple: meet him in public, keep Ellie between us as a buffer, see if I could stand to be in the same room as him without either crying or throwing something.
If that went well, maybe we could have an actual conversation.
We’d talk about the baby and about custody arrangements, about how we were going to co-parent a child when we lived on opposite sides of the country.
Nowhere in that plan was “drag him back to the apartment and tear his clothes off.”
But lying here now, tangled in sheets that smell like both of us, his arm heavy across my chest and his breath warm against my shoulder, I realize how naive I was. There was never any possibility of taking it slow. Not with him. Not with this bond.
We’re a prime match. The Bureau’s algorithm doesn’t lie—that’s what they always say, and god help me, they’re right.
My body knew what it wanted the moment I saw him standing by that bench in the park, bundled up in a charcoal coat with snowflakes catching in his dark hair.
My brain tried to argue, tried to remind me of all the reasons this was a terrible idea, but my brain never stood a chance.
Erik shifts beside me, pulling me closer in his sleep. His hand spreads across my stomach, protective even unconscious.
I’ve spent months running from him. I even built a whole new life. I have a job, a home, a routine that doesn’t include him. I was doing fine.
Except I wasn’t. Not really. Every night I dreamed about him. Every morning I woke up reaching for someone who wasn’t there. Every time the baby kicked, my first instinct was to tell him, to share it with him.
We’ve been here for hours. Time got away from us somewhere between the first desperate coupling and the slower, sweeter second round that followed.
“You’re thinking too loud.”
Erik’s voice is rough with sleep. I turn my head to find him watching me, those blue eyes soft in a way I’m still not used to seeing.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t.” He props himself up on one elbow, his free hand still resting on my belly. “What’s going on in there?”
I could deflect but I don’t. I think we’ve both spent far too much time refusing to talk to each other. I’m done with that.
“I wasn’t planning on this,” I admit. “Today, I mean. I was going to keep things... controlled. See how the ice skating went before I decided anything.”
“And instead?”
“Instead my plans went out the window.” I laugh, shaky. “Some things never change, I guess.”
“I know what you mean.” His thumb traces circles on my skin. “I had a whole speech prepared. Things I wanted to say, apologies I’d rehearsed. And then you were just there, and I couldn’t remember any of it.”
“What did you want to say?”
He’s quiet for a moment, considering. “That I’m sorry. There is so much I can say but that’s all it really comes down to. I behaved so badly and I’m sorry.”
“Erik—”
“Let me finish.” He meets my eyes, and there’s something raw in his expression.
“You are brilliant. You are fierce. You love your sister so much that you were willing to marry someone you hated just to save her life. And I almost destroyed you because I was too arrogant to consider that I might be wrong.” His voice cracks.
“I don’t know how to make that right. I don’t know if I can.
But I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying, if you’ll let me. ”
“I’m not just in town to see Ellie,” I hear myself say. “I have a scan tomorrow. They’ll be able to tell us the sex of the baby, if we want to know.”
Erik goes very still. “Us?”
“If you want to come.” I’m suddenly nervous, which is ridiculous given what we just did. “You don’t have to. I know it’s last minute, and you probably have work, and—”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I want to come. Of course I want to come.” His hand presses more firmly against my stomach, like he’s trying to feel the baby move.
“Nolan, I’ve missed everything so far. The first kicks, the cravings, all of it.
I thought—” He stops, composes himself. “I thought I was going to miss everything. That I’d never even see the baby. ”
The raw hope in his voice makes my throat tight. “I wouldn’t have done that. Kept you away completely, I mean. I was angry, and scared, but... they’re your baby too. You have a right to be part of their life.”
“Our baby.” He says it like a correction, like a prayer. “What time is the appointment?”
“Ten-thirty. At St. Mary’s.” I pause. “I had to get my medical records transferred over as my doctors assumed I was going to have the baby in Portland.”
“Are you? Having the baby there?”
The question hangs between us. It’s the real question. Where do we go from here? What does this mean for us, for the baby, for the future?
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I hadn’t decided. I wanted to wait until I’d talked to you, figured out what we were going to do about... everything.”
Erik nods slowly. “Where are you staying while you’re here? Ellie mentioned you were in town for a few days.”
“Mrs. Kay’s. She had a room available, and she offered to let me stay there whenever I need.” I smile despite myself.
“You could stay here.” He says it carefully, like he’s afraid of pushing too hard. “The apartment, I mean. You can stay whenever you want, for as long as you want.”
I look around the room. It’s strange being back here, in this space that’s both familiar and not.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I say slowly. “Us, here, after what just happened... I don’t want to rush into anything.”
“You wouldn’t be rushing into anything. The apartment is yours whether we’re—whatever we are.
” He sits up, running a hand through his hair.
It’s sticking up in every direction, wrecked from my fingers.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have offered. It’s too much, too fast. You just got here, and I’m already trying to—”
“Erik.” I reach for his hand, stopping the spiral. “It’s not too much. I just need to think. About all of it.”
He nods, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. The fear that he’s already ruined this, that one wrong word will send me running again.
Maybe it would have, a few hours ago. But something shifted when we fell into bed together. I’m not ready to move back to the city and play happy families. But I’m not ready to run, either.
“Tell me about your new life,” he says after a moment. “What’s it like?”
So I tell him. About the restaurant where I work, about my housemates and the tutoring I’ve been doing.
He listens without interrupting, asking questions only when I pause.
“It sounds nice,” he says when I finish. “Quiet.”
“It is. It’s nothing like here.” I gesture vaguely at the window, at the city beyond. “Sometimes I miss it here, though.”
“Do you miss me?”
The question is soft, almost hesitant. Coming from anyone else, it would sound needy. From Erik—controlled, composed Erik—it sounds like a confession.
“Yes,” I admit.
His exhale is shaky. “I missed you too.”
We lapse into comfortable silence. Outside, the snow is still falling, fat flakes drifting past the window.
“I should probably go,” I say, not moving. “Mrs. Kay will worry if I don’t check in.”
“Probably.” Erik doesn’t move either. “Or you could call her. Let her know you’re safe.”
“That’s a slippery slope.”
“Is it?”
I turn my head to look at him. He’s watching me with that intensity I remember from the heat. It makes my heart race, even now, even after everything.
“If I stay,” I say slowly, “we’re going to end up doing this again.” I gesture at the tangled sheets, the discarded clothes. “And then again. And then I’m going to wake up tomorrow and we’ll have spent the night together and everything will be complicated.”
“Everything is already complicated.” He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Stay anyway.”
I laugh. “Well, I suppose we are already married and with a baby on the way. It shouldn’t be a big deal for us to spend the night together.”
I reach for my phone and text Mrs. Kay: Staying with a friend tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.
Her response comes quickly: Be careful.
I set the phone aside and curl back into his warmth. “I’m staying. But just for tonight.”
“Just for tonight,” he agrees, but his arm tightens around me like he’s already dreading letting go.
We don’t intend to do anything but sleep.
We order takeout from the usual Thai place down the street because neither of us wants to get dressed, and we eat it sitting cross-legged on the bed, passing containers back and forth.
When we’re done, he takes the empty containers, cleaning up while I lie back against the pillows.
My eyelids are heavy. The baby is doing somersaults, probably jacked up on Thai food.
When Erik slides back into bed beside me, I curl into him without thinking.
“Nolan?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you. For giving me a chance.”
I’m asleep before I can respond.
The morning comes too quickly. Watery winter light filters through the curtains, and for a moment I don’t remember where I am. Then I feel Erik’s arm around me, his hand splayed across my belly, and it all comes rushing back.
I stayed the night. With Erik. In the apartment I fled months ago.
And I don’t regret it.
That’s the surprising part. I expected to wake up panicked, questioning every decision that led me here. Instead I feel... settled. Calm.
The scan is early so we don’t have the luxury of staying in bed. We stop at a bakery for pastries on the way to the hospital because I’m starving—the baby is always hungry these days and Erik insists on carrying the bag even though it weighs approximately nothing.
I know the doctor who leads us into the ultrasound room although I don’t know her name. She used to be a regular at the café: plain black every time.
She grins when she sees me and asks me how I’ve been doing, giving Erik a curious look. I answer vaguely, saying that I’ve been doing tutoring work and keeping off my feet while I’m pregnant.
I lie down on the hospital bed while she wheels the ultrasound into position. “Lie back, try to relax.”
The gel is cold on my stomach. Erik is sitting beside me, his hand wrapped around mine, and when the technician presses the wand against my belly and the image appears on the screen, I hear his breath catch.
“There’s the head,” she narrates, pointing. “Spine. Arms. Legs. Everything looks perfect, Nolan. Baby’s measuring right on track.”
I can’t look away from the screen.
“Do you want to know the sex?” she asks.
I look at Erik. He looks at me.
“Yes,” we say together.
She smiles. “Congratulations. You’re having a boy.”
A boy. A son. Erik’s grip on my hand tightens almost painfully, and when I glance at him, there are tears in his eyes. He doesn’t try to hide them.
“A boy,” he repeats, voice cracked. “We’re having a boy.”
“Yeah.” My own voice isn’t much steadier. “We are.”
She prints pictures for us. We have a fuzzy view of the face, one of a tiny fist. Erik takes them reverently, handling the flimsy paper like it’s made of gold.
We walk out of the hospital into the pale winter sunshine, and it feels natural.
“I know you said one night,” he says. “And I know you need time to think. But Nolan—whatever you decide, wherever you want to be—I want to be there too. With you. With him.” He touches my stomach gently.
“I don’t care what it looks like. I’ll move to Portland if that’s what you need.
I’ll fly back and forth every week. I’ll do whatever it takes. ”
I reach up and brush a snowflake from his hair. “Let’s just take it one day at a time, okay? See where things go.”
But even as I’m saying it, I know that this is it. It’s going to be one day at a time for the rest of our lives.