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“Hey,” Belle greeted. “Can I erm…can I come in?”
I shook my head to gather my thoughts and waved my hand. “Of course.”
She stepped inside and seemed even smaller than usual in the wide hallway with high ceilings. She started to bend down to stroke Lottie but groaned from the movement.
“Sorry,” she murmured, looking down at Lottie. “I think I need to sit to say hello.”
“Go into the living room,” I told her, shutting the front door and locking it behind her. She didn’t hesitate to move through the house, and I watched her back as she walked with ease into the living room. It wasn’t the furniture or decor that would make this house a home, it was her. She was home. I just hadn’t realized it until that exact moment.
“Do you want a drink?” I asked her as I entered the living room.
“Water, please,” she answered, slowly lowering herself onto the sofa. Lottie watched her with interest, her head tilted to the side, and as soon as she was sitting, she slowly moved toward her. I laughed as she licked at Belle’s hand, vying for her attention.
“She’s missed you,” I said, walking into the kitchen and getting a couple of bottles of water from the refrigerator. I could still see them both from here, and the smile on Belle’s face had my stomach churning. I’d missed that smile more than anything.
“I missed her, too,” she whispered. I walked toward her and handed her a bottle of water. “I missed you, as well.” She leaned her head back and stared up at me. “I thought you were dead.” My churning stomach bottomed out at her words. “I came to your house to tell you I was pregnant, but you weren’t here.” She stroked Lottie’s head rhythmically. “So I went to my mom and dad’s house. Well, Curtis took me there.” She grimaced at his name. “And they were having a memorial for you, Ford. I…I…I thought you were dead.”
I stumbled back a step, my legs connecting with the coffee table, and I decided it was as good a place as any to sit down. “I’m sorry.”
“I should have stuck around. I should have let Aria explain. I should have answered my cell.” She shook her head. “There’s a lot of things I should have done, Ford. I know that. But I can’t change it, not now.”
Scraping my hand down my face, I knew she deserved an explanation, and I hadn’t hidden anything from her since the start of all of this, so I had no intention of doing it now. “The cartel wasn’t letting up,” I started, staring into her eyes. “They were coming for me, which meant they’d come for you. We went through all of the options, and the only one that was plausible was them thinking I was dead.”
Belle blinked several times, processing the little I’d told her. “I wish I’d have known. I never would have“—she moved her hand over her stomach—”left.”
I pushed forward on the coffee table so I was closer to her. I craved to reach out and touch her, but I wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was. We’d been apart for so long, and now we were in this situation. Maybe she wasn’t on the same wavelength as I was. Maybe she wanted nothing to do with me apart from being the baby’s dad. I was swimming in uncharted waters, and I needed some kind of signal to know which way to turn.
“No.” I shook my head and clenched my hands to stop from reaching out to her. “I shouldn’t have left that day in your dorm.” I gritted my teeth and tried not to think back to it. “I should have stayed and fought for us.”
“But you didn’t,” she whispered, her chest heaving on a breath. “We can’t change the past, Ford. Not when the future is so close.”
I flicked my gaze down to her stomach and understood what she was saying. “I want to know everything, Belle.” Looking back at her, I saw the pain showcased in her eyes. “Just like I’m sure you do with me.”
She nodded and shuffled on the sofa so her back was between the crook of the arm and the back seat. The screen of her cell lit up for what felt like the thousandth time, and she pressed the side button to switch it off. “I think this may be a long conversation. Do you have any extra pillows?” She groaned and let her head dip back. “Pillows are my new best friends.”
I stood and looked around my mostly empty living room. Why the hell did I not have any pillows? “Erm…I only have the ones on my bed. You could lie on that if it’s more comfortable.” I cringed at my words. “Sorry. Forget I said that.” I pushed my hand through my hair and gripped it, not knowing what to do or how to act. Only Belle made me feel that way.
“No.” She pushed herself up, and I darted forward to help her. “That’s actually a good idea.” She stared up at me as I gripped her hand. “If that’s okay with you?”
“Yeah,” I replied immediately. “Anything so you feel comfortable.” Letting go of her hand felt like I’d lost a part of me, but I knew I couldn’t hold it as we went up the stairs. I knew how this looked, but all I wanted was to make sure she was okay. The bruises were still there, reminding me of what had happened to her, not to mention her ever-growing bump.
She followed behind me with Lottie on her heels. “I don’t think I’ll be comfortable until the baby is out.” I could hear her heavy breathing as we made it to the top of the stairs, and she halted. “I feel like I’ve just run a marathon.”
“Come on.” I stepped toward my bedroom and pushed open the door. She’d never been in my bedroom, and I wondered what she thought about it. The large king-sized bed was the comfiest thing I owned, and there were plenty of pillows to keep her comfortable. The gray walls looked darker thanks to the night sky, but once I turned the bedside light on, it made it feel cozier.
She moved toward the bed and to the right side, groaning as her back hit the mattress. “Oh my god.” She pushed her tennis shoes off her feet and rolled to her side, then grabbed one of the pillows and
shoved it under her bump. “This is heaven.”
I chuckled and moved around to the other side of the bed, then sat on the edge. I didn’t want to get too close or too comfortable. I felt on edge, trying to delay the inevitable.
“Shall I go first?” I asked her, staring at her face. She was content in the way she was lying, and I didn’t want to disturb her.
“Yeah,” she whispered, and I turned to face Lottie, who was curled up at the bottom of the bed, her chin resting on Belle’s feet.
Taking a breath, I opened my mouth and told her everything that had happened that day.
The plan was clear. Go and confront Rory and rile him up enough to shoot me. It was dangerous, and I knew anything could happen. It could go drastically wrong, and he could shoot me in the head, and then I really would be dead. But I was willing to take the chance.
