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Crimson red.
Tears fill my eyes. I don’t dare to hope. I don’t dare to fear. But there is knife right beside them. A knife that is all too familiar.
“My sweet Bella.”
The voice comes from behind me, so soft I can’t be sure I’m not going insane. I can’t move. I don’t dare. I am so afraid that if I blink, that if move even a fraction of an inch, the illusion in the reflection will disappear. His face will disappear, and I will be plunged right back into my waking nightmare again.
“You have two choices,” he tells me. “You can keep me, or you can kill me. For I cannot go on living without you. And I cannot go on living with you as my captive. So you must decide on your own. You must choose to be my willing captive. You must choose to remain by my side for the days of your life, or be merciful and have your vengeance by bleeding me dry.”
A tear falls down my cheek, followed by another. And then another. Soon, Javi is kneeling before me at my feet, cupping my face in his palms. And they feel so real. So warm.
I can smell him. I can feel him. It is either the cruelest fabrication of my mind or the best day of my life.
Javi wipes away my tears.
“Do not cry for me, my Bella.”
“You can’t be real,” I whisper. “This can’t be real. I must be dreaming.”
“It is no dream,” he assures me.
I close my eyes and open them again. He is still there. Still breathing. His heart still beating when I feel it beneath my palm.
“Javi?”
“Yes, my love,” he answers. “It is me. I am real. I am here. And I am not going anywhere.”
I leap into his arms, and he catches me.
“Javi.”
Over and over, I say his name like a prayer. He kisses me. He holds me. And he doesn’t let go. His eyes move over my body. Over the bump that now rests between us.
“You carry my child so well, my Bella.”
His hand hovers there nervously, wishing to touch, but possibly afraid.
“You can,” I tell him. “This baby is ours, Javi.”
He touches me, as gently as Javi has ever touched me.
“I still cannot believe it is real,” he says.
“Did you know?” I ask.
There are so many questions. So much for us to talk about. I don’t know where he was or what happened to him. But I don’t know if I’m even ready to hear it yet, and I think Javi knows it.
“I did know, Bella,” he answers. “There is much for us to discuss.”
“There is,” I agree. “One step at a time. I only just got you back.”
“I take it then,” he says hopefully, “you do not wish to kill me?”
“Don’t ever leave me again,” I tell him. “Ever.”
“I won’t, my Bella,” he says. “But your father…”
I shake my head and close my eyes.
“No. Not now.”
Maybe not ever.
I don’t know how to make sense of the things that I feel for my father. My warring grief and hatred for the man that he was. I think I will always be split in two as far as he is concerned.
I mourn him because I am still his daughter. But I have so much anger towards him too. Anger that I never had a chance to express. But none of that matters right now.
Nothing else matters when Javi is real, and he is right here beside me.
I tell him as much.
And then I tell him to take me home.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
“MY BELLA.”
Javi’s voice pulls me from my daydream, and I open my eyes. The sun is shining, but his body shields my face from the worst of it.
The hammock rocks in the breeze and I cradle my belly, resting the book I was reading atop the bump as I give him my full attention.
“What is it?”
“You have been out here too long,” he says. “Your skin will burn in this light.”
Concern mars his features, and I give him a gentle smile. He is unguarded. Still wild, as he always has been. But there is something so different about my Javi now.
He is no longer ashamed of his scars. He no longer hides from me. He is beautiful and primitive. He still struggles with control. With asking questions or making suggestions instead of demanding them.
Like right now when I can see he would prefer to simply pick me up and carry me back into the house. But he is trying to be patient.
He is trying to learn. We are trying to learn together. I teach Javi patience, and he teaches me strength, and together we make it from one day to the next.
“Bella,” he says again. “Come inside, yes?”
“Yes,” I answer him. “I will.”
“Now?”
He is anxious. The baby will be here any day.
“I need help.”
I hold out my hands, and Javi tugs me up from the hammock, cradling me in his arm as he walks me into the house. We sit down at the kitchen island, and he makes me a cup of tea while I watch.
Since his return home, Javi has been busy remodeling Moldavia. The first thing to go was the surgery room. The walls of the house have been re-papered and painted, and the floors polished and shined. The only thing that remains is the locks on the windows. I feel more secure knowing they are in place.
Javi no longer works for the agency. He tells me that they will not come for us, but I can never really feel one hundred percent comfortable when it comes to the agency.
I don’t know if I’ll ever feel completely comfortable again. If I’ll ever stop looking over my shoulder or checking the house for devices.
I know Javi won’t either. I see him doing the same. And now that we are about to be parents, it weighs heavy on both of our minds.
That is not the only thing weighing heavy on Javi’s mind, and it is obvious in the way he carries himself today.
When he places my tea on the counter, I reach for his hand.
“Javi.”
“Hmm, my love?”
He seems scattered, his thoughts elsewhere.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“What is?” he asks.
“You’re going to do just fine.”
I tell him so every day, but he doesn’t believe me. I know he worries that he will not be a good father. He never had a father, he said. Or at least, he did not know him. And the closest he had to one was my father. The man who deceived him.
“You will be nothing like him,” I say. “You will be here. You will be present. And you will teach your son to be a man of honor.”
“Yes,” he says softly. “I hope so.”
I smile and take a sip of my tea.
And then my water breaks.
Javi is still at war in his own mind, and I have to call his name to get his attention.
“Yes, my love?”
“I guess there’s no time like the present to find out.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s time,” I tell him.
CHAPTER FIFTY
THE WHOLE PROCESS is overwhelming from the start.
The trip to the hospital takes an eternity, and I worry I will not get her there on time. The registration process overwhelms me. Paperwork this, and insurance that.
These are things not to worry about I try to tell them. We can take care of it later. But first, we must have our baby. They tell me this is not the way this works, and I get frustrated.
Bella reaches for my hand and smiles.
I know I must be patient. I must do this right, for her. I fill out the paperwork as they ask. Nurses come and go from the room. A doctor comes and goes.
I think that the baby will come soon, but they tell me no, this is not how it works. So we wait. And I watch Bella. This is not the kind of pain I like to see her in.
Eventually, they say she is getting close. They give her an epidural, and I almost get sick. I do not like hospitals. I do not like the smell. The needles. The tools.
I remember my mother, and then
I try to erase those thoughts from my memory. Not today. Not ever again.
Forward. Always forward with my Bella.
The doctor comes in and tells her it’s time to push. She does. They ask me if I want to see the baby’s head, and Bella tells me no. That I better not dare to look down there right now. So I don’t.
I stay up by her side and hold her hand and kiss her forehead and tell her how amazing I think she is. How lucky I am to have her. How I will never let her go. She cries and tries to smile. She cannot say the words back. But I don’t need them. Not anymore. I know that when she does say them, she means them.
I know that I love her. Nothing will ever come between us again. I tell her so. And she agrees.
“Yes, Javi. Never.”
The baby is born, and the doctor laughs as he cleans him up.
“Would you like to meet your daughter?”
“Daughter?” we both ask.
