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Sure, I hadn’t been expecting it right now, but I’d heard no one ever felt ready. Maybe that was why human beings had been designed to take so many months to grow. While the miracle formed inside us, we had the time to prepare.

As I thought about it in this new, different light, it was like I could feel a giant weight lifting from my chest. Being married to Holden didn’t have to mean everything I loved disappeared. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

I could have it all but at full volume. I could throw myself into absolutely anything I chose wholeheartedly with nothing holding me back.

I smiled as I looked past Tasha toward the rail behind her. “You know what? You might be right. The possibilities really are endless.”

She smirked. “I’m always right, honey. That still doesn’t answer my original question, though. What kind of vibe are we after?”

“This.” I walked around her and pulled a costume off that rail. “This is what I want.”

A simple black witch’s dress with a pointed hat and a pair of ridiculous, striped tights. Tasha took it from me, casting a critical eye over it before she grinned. “I like it. You’re going to look adorable and Holden is going to want to tear it off with his teeth.”

I laughed, and this time, it came out sounding right. Soft but genuine. And most importantly, much less sad. “Let’s get it. What are you going to be?”

“Oh, I’ve had my costume for weeks.” She looked toward the men’s section. “Should we pick something up for Holden while we’re here?”

I frowned. “I don’t know. Do you think he’ll dress up?”

She chuckled. “Oh, God. Can you imagine if he does? He’d probably have a Batman suit custom designed and then spend the whole night grumbling about it.”

“Fair enough,” I agreed, smiling as I tried to picture him in something like that. “Let me ask him. If he wants to dress up, I’ll come back and get him a costume.”

“Okay, then.”

We strode to the register, paying before we went our separate ways. As always, Tasha had a study group to get to, so she raced off as soon as we were finished at the costume store, leaving me to return home alone. To an empty house and an uncertain future with the man I was sharing it with.

Sighing as I unlocked the front door, I walked in and set my shopping bag down. I just kind of drifted around for a while, taking in all the little signs that he lived here now. His boots sat next to mine by the door, a few of his jackets hanging on the coat rack.

The espresso machine took up an unreasonable amount of space on the kitchen counter and those candy bars he’d bought me back in New York were on top of the microwave, where he’d been building me a little stash for when I felt like one.

On the one hand, drinking it all in like this was comforting. Physical proof that he and I were building a life together. On the other, I still had no idea how much of what he’d done for me had been out of obligation and what he’d done because he actually cared. Despite my new outlook on the future, that was still eating away at my insides, the fact that I didn’t know if any of it was real.

Practically speaking, I supposed it didn’t matter. We were still married and we might still be having a baby together. He lived here with me and he’d absolutely sworn that there was no one else. From the outside, it all probably looked perfect and yet that wasn’t enough for me.

As much as I knew catching feelings hadn’t been part of the arrangement, I desperately wanted it to be real. I wanted him to be here because he didn’t want to be anywhere else, but right now, I simply didn’t know if that was true.

Frankly, I didn’t know much of anything right now. Except that I missed him something awful and that nothing would feel right again until he got back.

CHAPTER 47

HOLDEN

The first gate slammed shut behind me before I’d even made it five feet inside the prison. The sound was so jarring that it went straight through my chest. I couldn’t imagine hearing that heavy, metal against metal clank umpteen times a day, followed by the ominous scrape of a lock sliding into a place.

An honest-to-God shiver raced down my spine, but I kept walking, acting like I hadn’t just flinched so hard that I’d nearly pulled a muscle. Inhaling a deep breath trying to convince my heart to act normal too, I caught the scent of industrial cleaner, old concrete, and something vaguely metallic wafting through the air.

My first instinct was that it was blood. It has to be blood, right? I mean, fuck, it’s a prison.

My blood pressure skyrocketed at the thought, but on my next breath, I realized it wasn’t that. It was more just a stale, institutional smell that seemed to have permeated the walls at this point.

I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes on the corrections officer walking a few paces ahead of me. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, so bright that it drained the corridor of all color. Somewhere in the distance, another gate swung shut with a heavy clang, a mechanical buzzing sound ringing out a moment later.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and kept moving, my shoulders so rigid that my entire skeleton was starting to hurt and my teeth ached from how hard they were clenched. My stomach was in knots, and honestly, I could feel my pulse in my throat.

It had been ten years, give or take, since I’d last seen my father and I’d spent the vast majority of that time convinced that I didn’t ever want to see him again. I’d even tried convincing myself that I didn’t care, but the truth was that I’d imagined this moment more times than I would ever admit.

Sometimes, late at night, I’d wondered what he looked like now. If he’d look much older or more or less the same. If he’d somehow look guilty. If he’d be happy to see me or if I’d even care.