Chapter 19 Mav
NINETEEN
MAV
Helpless is a feeling I’ve experienced a lot over the past year. When I couldn’t save Mckenna from her demons and ended up smothering her. When I lamented my existence during my early days in rehab. When I learned that Bran put his hands on my beauty, again.
But there is a particular type of helplessness that washes over a man when he watches the woman he loves vomit. Repeatedly.
She’s stressed. That has to be it. She’s a nervous wreck, wondering how this thing with Bran is going to play out. I thought his being behind bars would put her mind at ease, but instead, Mckenna’s been restless, distracted, and…sick.
“You okay?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe as she closes the lid to the toilet.
She drags the back of her hand across her mouth and meets my gaze.
Her eyes are midnight as she nods. “I’m fine.”
I sigh, knowing she’s not fine but not wanting to press her on it either.
“Want some tea?”
She rises unsteadily and I reach out, grasping her under one arm to keep her knees from knocking. I keep a hand on her while she brushes her teeth, fixes her ponytail, and meets my gaze in the reflection of the mirror.
We stand like that—me slightly behind her, Mckenna gripping the underside of the vanity’s ledge, our eyes holding—for a long moment.
Until dread snakes through my veins and fear drips down my spine. “What’s wrong?” I whisper.
Mckenna bites her bottom lip and I pull in a breath, mentally preparing for the worst while physically keeping my expression neutral.
“We need to talk,” Mckenna says.
Fuck.
My nostrils flare as I drop my head.
She wants me to move out. Bran hurt her more than I know. She can’t create a future with me right now.
My mind spins at the speed of light.
Mckenna turns in front of me, resting her back against the vanity. She cups my cheeks in her palms and lifts my face until our eyes meet.
“I love you, Maverick.” Her voice is resolute. Unwavering.
My hands find her hips and my fingertips grip at the soft cotton of her sleep shorts. God, I don’t want to let her go. I wish I could stay connected to her forever. “Is it enough?”
“Can we relocate to the kitchen? Or living room?” Mckenna glances down to where our toes touch and smiles. “I don’t want to have this conversation in the bathroom.”
What conversation? I want to scream. But smiling is a good sign, right?
Instead, I sigh. “Okay. Of course.”
I help her down the stairs and settle her into a corner of the couch.
“Does this conversation call for tea?” I try again, wanting to make sure her stomach is settled. Wanting to delay this conversation nearly as much as I want to know what the hell it’s about.
But I know it’s about to flip my world upside down.
Fuck. I can’t lose Mckenna.
I don’t wait for Mckenna to reply before I busy myself in the kitchen, putting on the kettle. My head continues to whir.
Does she want to move to California? Or New York?
Did she get a job offer that requires a permanent move or frequent travel?
A job offer would be great. It would certainly bolster her confidence.
Is this about Bran? Or us? Or her?
“Shit!” I hiss as I burn myself with scalding fucking water.
“You okay?” Mckenna calls out.
“Yep,” I bite out, flipping on the faucet and jamming my hand beneath the cool, rushing water.
I need to get a grip. I’m losing it over…what? I don’t even know what I’m losing it over.
I pull in another breath, hold it in my lungs, close my eyes, and…
count. It’s an old trick I learned in therapy.
Or rehab. And as I visualize the sandy beaches of Costa Rica, the rolling waves, and the changing tide, I start to relax.
My heart rate levels out, my breathing steadies, and the nerves hopping through my veins dissipate.
This is me and Mckenna. Whatever it is, we can handle it. We’ve been through fucking hell together and are still…here. Fighting. Trying. Loving.
Whatever she needs, I’ve got her.
Resolved to not freak the fuck out, I pour two mugs of peach tea, clasp the handles, and move toward the living room.
I pass a mug to Mckenna. She shifts, tucking her legs underneath her body, before placing the mug on the side table.
I frown. She doesn’t want tea?
“Okay,” she breathes out, clasping her hands.
“Okay,” I repeat, placing my mug down too. I don’t want it anymore either.
“Maverick.”
“Mckenna.”
“I have to tell you something.”
“Hit me.”
She frowns. “What?”
I motion with my fingers for her to give me whatever she’s got. “I’m ready. Give it to me.”
“Okay,” she exhales. Cracks her knuckles.
Fuck. There goes my blood pressure.
“I’m pregnant,” Mckenna says.
My heart skips a beat.
“I—what?” I must’ve misheard her.
“I’m pregnant,” she repeats, her expression severe. She watches me carefully, as if clocking every emotion flitting across my face.
But it’s fucking relief that rocks through me.
Relief that she’s okay and Bran didn’t hurt her.
Followed by…fucking agony.
Bran didn’t hurt her, did he?
“Mckenna, did Bran—”
“No!” She holds up a hand. “Mav, it’s yours.”
“Oh, thank fuck!” I cry out, my relief flooding back so strongly, swiftly, it makes me dizzy.
It’s followed by pure fucking joy.
I grin at Mckenna. “We’re having a baby?”
Tears streak down her cheeks as she nods.
“Holy shit, beauty. That’s the best fucking news I’ve ever heard.” I reach for her, wrapping her in my arms, and kiss the top of her head. “We’re having a baby.”
“You’re really not…mad?”
“Mad?” I pull back to stare at her. “Do you have any idea how incredibly fortunate I feel to have a baby with you, Mckenna? Maybe even luckier than our kid.” I place my hand on her abdomen, stretching out my fingers.
I keep the pressure light as I know her ribs are still bruised but—fuck.
Our baby is growing right under my palm.
She closes her eyes as a sob escapes. She drops her hand over mine and presses my fingers against her skin.
“Why are you crying, beauty?”
“I’m just so…relieved,” she admits.
I nod, feeling my emotions swell to the surface. “Me too.”
“You are?”
“Yes. This is the best news you could have told me after saying we need to talk,” I admit. “And honestly, the only thing I didn’t see coming.”
She chuckles. “But you said you weren’t ready for kids.”
I shrug. “It wasn’t something I considered because it wasn’t a position I’ve ever been in. But I promise you, I couldn’t be happier, or prouder, or love you or our baby more.”
“But do you think we’re…confusing things?” she asks, scrunching her nose.
I shift our weight so I can read her expression. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, if I wasn’t pregnant or we weren’t facing this situation with Bran…”
“Don’t say his name,” I beg.
“Sorry.” She shakes her head. “Things between us are always so big, Mav. So intense and…serious. If this wasn’t the situation we were in, would you still be happy?”
“Yes. One hundred percent. And you’re right, things between us always seem big and intense and complicated.
Even messy. But goddamn, Mckenna, it’s also beautiful.
There is no woman for me but you. I don’t give a fuck if we do it in a different order than most or if the timing is always off.
Because it’s me and you. I love our story because it’s ours. And that’s all that matters.”
She presses her forehead against mine, closing her eyes.
“Oh, Mav, I never knew I could feel so whole even while my world seems to be falling apart. It’s the most insane thing and yet, from the second I learned the truth, I’ve been ecstatic.
Everything changed, my entire perspective, in the space of a heartbeat. I’m going to be a mom, Mav.”
“The best mom.”
“You’re going to be a wonderful dad.”
“We’re a family, Mckenna. No matter what, we’re a family,” I say, before dropping my lips to hers.
And she’s right. In the matter of a heartbeat, my entire perspective has shifted. The world has changed in a fundamental way.
And I’ve never been fucking happier to feel so goddamn terrified.