Chapter 45

forty-five

LUCY

This second trimester is a breath of fresh air after weeks of wading through molasses.

I’m still tired, but it’s the kind of exhaustion I can live with.

I can sit outside with a mug of tea and not feel like I might pass out mid-sip.

I can eat again. Actually crave things. Sleep without waking up in a cold sweat, convinced something’s wrong.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not bracing for the next hit. I’m not tiptoeing around my own body.

I catch myself smiling more. Dreaming a little louder. Letting myself imagine things like a nursery. Little shoes. Sunday mornings that smell like pancakes and baby lotion.

It would be nice to pretend that everything is perfect, but the reality is, Emily is still an unknown part of this equation.

Though it is getting a bit easier to watch Isla around her.

Isla’s curious and cautiously hopeful, letting herself inch toward someone she doesn’t remember but wants to understand.

She’s talking a little more when Emily’s around.

Asking questions that make my heart clench, like was I funny when I was a baby, too, or did you miss me when you were gone?

Emily always answers as if she’s reading from a script, but Isla soaks it up. I think part of me wants to soak it up, too. For Isla’s sake.

Aidan still hasn’t let Emily take her out alone. Not once, and I don’t blame him. What that means, though, is every visit happens here, in our home, under our roof, with either Aidan or me always within earshot.

I have no doubt we’re doing the right thing, and yet…it feels like we’re letting Emily peer in, try on the mother role for a few hours, but never actually leave the driveway with it.

We haven’t talked about it, and maybe that’s why my heart seizes up when I think about all the things he’s keeping to himself.

I know Aidan’s been talking to Finn, even though he hasn’t told me about it. So I have no idea what’s going on. I’m a little surprised he hasn’t included me up to this point. I don’t like being kept in the dark. I want to be his partner in everything.

Today, I decide, we’re going to have that conversation.

I hear the front door open, followed by the sound of Aidan’s boots on the hardwood and Isla’s excited chatter. They’ve been grocery shopping.

“Lucy!” Isla calls out, rushing into the living room where I’m curled up with a book. “We got those crisps you like. The salt and vinegar ones that Daddy says smell like feet.”

I laugh, setting my book aside. “Did he now? Well, thank you for thinking of me.”

Aidan walks in behind her, arms loaded with grocery bags. His eyes find mine immediately, and that familiar warmth spreads through me. Even now, one look from him can still make my heart skip.

“Hey, you,” I say, moving to help him with the bags.

He leans down to kiss me quickly. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Really good, actually.” I take a bag from him, surprised by how light it feels compared to a few weeks ago when even lifting a mug of tea seemed exhausting.

“Hey, Isla?” I call over my shoulder. “Why don’t you play in your room for a bit while we get this all sorted.”

“Okaaaay,” she chirps, already racing up the stairs before I’ve finished my sentence.

I wait until she’s out of earshot. “I was thinking we should talk about Emily.”

His hands still for just a moment before he continues putting away a carton of eggs. “What about her?”

“I know you’ve been meeting with Finn,” I say gently.

His shoulders lift. “I was going to tell you when things were more concrete.” He sets the carton of eggs aside and reaches for the milk, a little too forcefully. “You could’ve asked me about it.”

“I didn’t realize I’d have to… We’re supposed to be partners in this.” I chew the inside of my cheek, waiting for a response that doesn’t come. “Does Emily know you’re getting a lawyer involved?”

That gets him. His head lifts, his jaw tightening. “No. She doesn’t.” A beat. “And I’m just trying to protect us.”

“I know that. But it feels a little like you’re shutting me out.” I take a deep breath. “I want to be included in these conversations. I care about Isla, too.”

His exhale is sharp but quiet, and when he speaks again, his tone is clipped. “This isn’t about doubting whether you care.” The words are measured, controlled. Then he adds, firmer, “This is about legal custody of my daughter.”

My chest goes hot, my throat tightening instantly.

I look away, blinking fast, cursing the swell of tears that hit without warning.

I know Isla isn’t mine. That doesn’t change the fact that I know the shape of her hand when she reaches for me, the sound of her giggle when she bursts into a room, the sleepy weight of her leaning against me during bedtime stories.

I know what it feels like to be part of her world.

Hearing him draw that distinction, even unintentionally, shoves me away from something I desperately want to believe in.

The fight in Aidan’s shoulders loosens. “Lucy…” My name lingers in the air between us. It takes him a second before he says, “Shit.”

He closes the distance in two strides, his hand hovering like he’s unsure whether he’s earned the right to touch me. He brushes my arm lightly, tentative. “That came out wrong.”

I take a step back—not to punish him, but because my emotions are too close to the surface and I need space to think. “No,” I say quietly. “She is your daughter.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, voice dropping to that gentle rumble that usually makes me feel safe. “Christ, I’m making a mess of this.”

I swipe at my eyes, irritated with myself for crying. “Then why didn’t you talk to me about what you’re planning?”

He leans his hip against the counter, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because I didn’t want to add one more thing to your plate. You’ve been through enough.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” I say, more serious now. “I’m not some fragile thing you need to shield from reality.”

I’ve spent months trying to keep everything together, trying to be strong for both of us, for Isla, and now it feels like the walls I built are cracking.

I need him to see me. Because if I can’t stake my claim in my own life, in my own choices, then who can?

And if he can’t see that, then everything I’ve dared to hope for feels like it could crumble in an instant.

His jaw flexes. “I’ve always done things on my own, Lucy.”

“Well, you’re not on your own anymore!” The words burst out louder than I intend, and I lower my voice, mindful of Isla upstairs. Quieter, I add, “At least, I thought you weren’t.”

Aidan’s eyes widen, like he’s just now realizing how deeply this cuts. I hold my breath, waiting for the words that might soothe or break me.

“Lucy… Look, I just… I didn’t think—” His words stumble, faltering under the weight of my gaze.

“I just want to be part of the things that affect us,” I whisper. “All four of us.”

He swallows hard, looking away for a moment, then back, his gray eyes clouded.

“Aidan,” I say softly. “I’ve been here. I deserve to be part of this.”

He opens his mouth, but whatever he meant to say falters. The silence stretches, thick, close, and my lungs feel too tight to hold another breath.

“I’m going to step out for a bit,” I say, finding my purse with shaky fingers. “Maybe go see Bree.”

His shoulders slump, guilt carving through the frustration. “Lucy…”

I shake my head before he can say anything more. “I just…need a minute to not feel like I’m on the outside of my own life.”

I head to the door, bend to slip into my shoes, and tug my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll be back before Isla goes to bed,” I add. “I don’t want to miss tucking her in.”

I pause at the door, hoping he’ll say something to bridge this sudden canyon between us. But he just stands there, his face a mask of conflicted emotions I can’t decipher.

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