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“It’s yours. It’s your baby.” Tears shine in her eyes as she sits up, hugging her belly. Then they’re sliding down her cheeks.

“But…how?”

“I think…it was that night at the party. In the closet,” she rasps.

Holy fuck. Something hard and heavy hits me, making me feel like I might fall over. “How far are you?” I hear myself ask in a strange, choked voice.

She covers her face with one hand, shoulders curling in as if she’s shrinking.

“It’s okay, rosa—it’s okay.” I get back on the bed, pretending my heart’s not thrumming in my ears. “Are you okay? Is it a girl or a boy? Is it too early?”

“I’m so sorry I surprised you,” she half-sobs. “You look exhausted, and I—”

“I’m okay. I’m just fine.”

I close the foot or two of space between us, pulling her against me so I can hold her.

“Oh, my heart.” Her mouth finds mine. I taste her tears as she clings to me. “Please say you’re not upset,” she rasps.

“Why would I be?”

She laughs, sounding unhinged. “I didn’t know if I should tell you sooner! Or if you would want…you know…” She makes a muffled sob sound.

“No…no, rosa. I want whatever you want. You’re…okay about it?” I can’t draw a breath until she nods, wide-eyed and so fucking perfect that it almost kills me.

“Jesus, woman. Of course I want our baby.” I’m breathing hard, though. I can’t get my breath. “Sorry,” I choke.

“It’s okay.” She pulls me down so we’re lying on our sides, facing each other, and she pulls the covers over us. “It’s just the three of us, cuore. We’re okay.”

My throat is so tight, and the room feels like it’s spinning. I’m aware of pressure behind my eyes. I know it’s tears that really want to fall—and I won’t let them, though I want to.

It won’t ever be the three of us. Because of me.

My palms find the roundness of her belly. “How many weeks along is…he or she?”

“Twenty-four weeks.”

Fuck, that sounds like a lot. “Is the baby…healthy?”

“Yes.” Her voice breaks. “He or she seems healthy. Really active.”

I nod, closing my eyes.

“I don’t know the gender yet.” She kisses my hair. “What about you? Tell me how you are. I feel like something’s not okay. Did something happen?”

I shake my head. I don’t know how to explain, so I say, “Nothing recent.”

“Oh. I think maybe I understand.” Her words are so soft.

“I don’t know, but I think it’s because of…other things that happened,” I manage. It’s the first time I’ve ever said something like that to anybody.

“That stuff hangs around, right?” Her fingers sift through my hair. “I know, vita mia.” She’s stroking my cheek and then my shoulder. “Someone needs to hold you, help you relax.”

She kisses my mouth softly, stroking my scruff. Then she curls herself around me, blowing a soft breath out.

“I love you, il mio cuore. I love you forever. And it’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out somehow.”

“Anything you need…is yours.” I can feel my heartbeat in my head again, behind my eyes. I really think I might be sick.

“We just need you. That’s all.”

Her mouth finds mine again. It’s just a whispered kiss, but right now, I need more. Just a hint of that from me, and I can see she needs it, too. We’re kissing hard and fast. I can’t breathe, but that’s okay. The room spins around us, and my hand is in her pants. I feel the soft swell of her belly, but instead of making me afraid, it makes me want her more. Elise—and I put a baby in her. Our love created something real, something that lasts.

I’m hard and throbbing as my fingers find their way past the soft cotton of her underwear. It’s an anchor—this soft heat. Everything I am, have been, or ever will be seems to swirl around this moment. Elise and her small, soft noises. Her sweet, soothing hands. Our mouths and tongues, our hips aligned. And then I’m pushing her pants down. She’s pulling off her underwear. My clumsy hands have got my own pants down around my knees.

“I want you inside me,” she says, sultry.

I run my hand over her rounded belly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She laughs. “I’m not fragile.”

She shows me how not fragile she is. I’m cautious, and she’s begging me to come in deeper, to thrust harder. She’s crying out, pulling my hair, rocking her hips like she’s desperate, groaning. I don’t remember la mia rosa like this before. Right about that time, she laughs, and in a husky whisper tells me, “I think this has made me need you even more.”

My eyes are shut. There’s just her warmth around me, her soft moans, and then her gentle hands along my ribcage.

“Love you,” I groan, and she whispers it back. Soon I’m rolling over the ledge. It feels fucking incredible, but I’m so dizzy. “No sleep…for a lot of nights,” I try to explain as I lie face down.

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