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He grabs a napkin and leans over, dabbing at my hand.
“Thanks,” I say. “And I was being so careful. Maybe I should’ve ordered the salad.”
“No damn way,” he replies. “I want that curvy body of yours strong for the baby.”
“Forthe baby,” I murmur. “Like our little boy or girl is here already.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and have twins on the first go,” he says, his voice low, probably conscious somebody could overhear.
I wipe my hand again. “This is sticky. I’m going to use the bathroom.”
“Is something wrong?” he asks.
Maybe he can hear something in my tone. Maybe he’s just that good at reading me like he says.
“It’s nothing,” I say. “Just…not being able to be us in public. But I can’t complain. I don’t mean to. And I really need to wash my hands.”
“I get it,” he tells me as I turn away. “I feel the same too. Soon, though.”
I look at myself in the mirror as I wash my hand, in my jeans, shirt, and slightly red cheeks. Nobody would believethiswoman is going to be Silas Stone’s wife.
But I won’t think like that.
He chose me, the same as I chose him.
Soon, though….
The words repeat in my mind as though taunting me, haunting me as I sit down.
“I think we should tell him soon,” I say.
Silas nods, his eyes glinting, his jaw going tight. It causes his temples to pulse. Suddenly, it’s like he’s that man again, the one before the revelations, who snapped at me thatwenever happened.
“What is it?”
When he smirks, I press on, “That’s right. I can read you too.”
“We have to tell him,” Silas says. “We’re going to. But it doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy. Every time I even think about it, it’s like my mind starts playing a slideshow of all our best memories.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“There are so many. The time he yelled at me to race the final mile down what we were calling Madmen’s Mountain. The look on his face when he told me he was getting married to your mom. How happy he was to become a father….”
Silas leans back like his own words are hurting him.
“How can he ever understand?”
“He’s supportive of my dreams to start a family,” I say quickly. “He always has been.”
“Did you ever tell him about your crush?” Silas asks. “Did you ever say,Dad, every time I talk about finding a husband, I’m talking about your best friend?”
“No, obviously not.”
We’re quiet for maybe half a minute.
“I’m sorry,” Silas says. “I didn’t mean to get angry. There’s no world in which I forget you, us, where I let you go. But it is really one of fate’s cruel jokes, the fact you’re his daughter.”
“I know.”
