Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You’re going to make me cry.”
“You are already crying.”
“Well, you’re making me cry more.”
He stood and kissed her tears away, then guided her to the bed. They made love slowly, carefully, his touch so gentle it was almost worshipful. Afterward, she curled against his side and let herself relax completely for the first time all day.
“What do you think it’ll be?” she asked sleepily. “Boy or girl?”
“I do not have a preference. Healthy is all that matters.”
“Such a diplomatic answer.”
“It is the truth.” His hand traced patterns on her back. “Though I admit, I have been thinking about names.”
“Already?”
“I have had three hours to think about it. That is sufficient time to begin preliminary considerations.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Do humans have specific naming traditions we should follow?”
“Not really. Most people just pick names they like.” She yawned. “We have time to figure it out. Seven more months.”
“Seven months,” he repeated, as if testing the timeline. “Not long.”
“Long enough.”
She drifted off with his arms around her and his voice murmuring soft words in Ciresian. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered what he was saying—promises to their unborn child, vows to protect and cherish and provide.
The last thought she had before sleep claimed her completely was that their baby was the luckiest child in the universe to have Selik as a father.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Why do humans give each other rings?”
Selik looked up from the fishing net he was repairing to find Anya perched on the dock’s edge, her bare feet dangling over the water. She kicked lazily, sending ripples across the surface.
“Rings?” He frowned. “Do you mean for decoration?”
“I mean when they get married.” Anya traced patterns in the salt-worn wood. “My dad gave Corinne a ring. She used to wear it, but one of the Vedeckians took it.”
Married… Based on what Corinne had told him about her previous life, marriage was the human bonding custom. He set down the net and focused on his daughter. “I don’t know. Why do they?”
“I think it’s a symbol.” She picked at a splinter. “A symbol of commitment, of choosing someone forever.”
Forever.The word lodged in his chest, heavy and warm.
“My dad proposed to her at this fancy restaurant.” Her voice went soft. “He told me about it afterwards. He was really nervous and almost dropped the ring.”
He could see the grief on her face, faint but still present. She missed her father and probably always would.
“He sounds like a good man,” he said carefully.
“He was.” She looked at him then, her eyes serious. “But he didn’t love her, not really. Not the way you do.”
“Anya—”
“It’s okay.” She waved a hand. “I figured it out. They were friends, really good friends, but I think part of the reason he married her was to give me a mother—not that I thought I wanted one. They weren’t like you and Corinne. You look at her like she’s—like she’s everything.”
“She is,” he said honestly, and she gave him a small, knowing smile.
