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Six
Davit
“Amethyst, wake up,”I whispered.
She startled, then looked around.
She’d dozed off not long after our conversation, and I had reclined her seat and covered her with a blanket.
She hadn’t stirred since she’d fallen asleep, and I had no intention of disturbing her.
She’d needed her rest, and I’d needed the distance.
My emotions were all over the place. I’d been singularly focused on finding her, so much so that everything else had been crowded out.
I had known about the baby, but had been so focused on finding her that I hadn’t taken a moment to consider what came after.
But I did now, and I realized that even though I had her, this was only the beginning.
Whatever she might feel for me physically—and that, at least, was something I didn’t doubt—she didn’t trust me. Didn’t trust me with herself, and definitely didn’t trust me with the baby.
And that was something I couldn’t accept.
Wouldn’t.
“We’re about to land,” I said when she sat up. “Put on your seat belt.”
She nodded, complied, and then finished the bottle of water I had left in the seat next to her.
She didn’t speak as the plane landed and rolled to a stop on the runway.
“You have to go to the bathroom?” I asked.
“Do I ever,” she responded.
She gave me a quick smile, and in that moment, I was struck, reminded of the warmth, the goodness, that had caught my attention at first, even before she found out who I really was.
I ignored it, told myself that I just found her a pleasant diversion, but I knew that wasn’t true.
Her enthusiasm, her smile, it made me happy.
Not that I could ever tell her that.
“It’s in the back. When you’re done, we can get off,” I said.
She nodded, then left.
When she returned, I handed her another bottle of water.
“Thanks,” she said as she took it.
“Yes, all the books say it’s important that you stay hydrated,” I said.
“All the books?” She lifted a brow in question.
“Yes. The pregnancy books,” I said.
“You’ve been reading pregnancy books?”
