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She probably thinks I’ve lost my mind. And I’m not sure that I haven’t.
I can’t bring a baby into this world, can I?
Sam eases her foot off the gas and circles to the back of Anita’s house. There, she brings the car to a stop and lets the engine idle for a few more seconds. “I want to be supportive, Isabella. I do, but I think you need to think this through. A baby is a lot of responsibility. It’s a tiny person that you need to take care of and feed.”
I frown. “I know.”
Sam switches off the engine and twists so she’s facing me directly. “Isabella, please don’t look at me like that. I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, but you can’t raise a baby in this world. And I know that somewhere deep down inside of you, you know it too.”
I unbuckle my seatbelt and let it slide back into place. “Things are different now. Carter is different.”
Since the incident outside the hospital, Carter has been keeping a closer eye on me and making sure I feel safer and more secure. While a part of that has included having to keep tabs on me at all times, I know it’s for my good.
I need to know that Carter can protect and take care of me. And he’s been nothing short of amazing the past few weeks. I don’t have any reason to doubt him, not when I’ve seen, time and again, how strong and powerful he is.
Carter will protect us, I’m sure of it.
Still, Sam’s words stay with me as we get out of the car and go into the house. Anita is in the kitchen cooking, and a few Blackthorne men are on the front porch. I swing the refrigerator door open and smile when Paul comes in, acting like he hadn’t been shadowing us the entire visit to the hospital and back. When I find a container with some cheese and Italian sliced meats in it, I take it out.
Anita kicks Paul out of the kitchen and spins around to face us. “So, how was the doctor’s appointment?”
I pry the lid open and sniff. “It was fine. Yeah, nothing to worry about.”
Not unless Carter loses his shit, but I’m determined not to think about that. Or about the fact that Sam is right.
Instead, I focus on making myself a sandwich. Anita makes small talk while Sam and I move around the kitchen, helping her take out pots and pans and chop vegetables. Once we’re done, I pour myself a large glass of iced tea and take a bottle of water upstairs. In the doorway to our room, I pause and glance around. When I glance over my shoulder, Sam is hovering near one of the guest rooms.
We exchange a quick look, but she doesn’t say anything.
“I’m just going to lie down for a bit before we meet up with the ladies,” I tell her with a wave. “Can you make sure I’m awake in like an hour?”
Sam nods and folds her arms over her chest.
The door clicks shut behind me, and I kick off my shoes. I crawl between the sheets and down all the iced tea in one gulp. When I’m done, I use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth. Then I pull the covers up to my chin, bringing one arm up behind my head and using the other to cup my stomach.
It feels strange to know that there is life growing inside of me.
Before I drift off to sleep, I think I feel a flutter, and it sends another wave of emotion through me.
Sometime later, when Sam comes into the room and gently shakes me awake, I am deep in the throes of sleep. Slowly, I sit up, push my hair out of my face, and give Sam a sleepy smile. Then I stagger out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. Through the slit in the door, I see Sam adjust the covers on the bed and smooth out the wrinkles.
She’s a good friend, and I’m glad to have her back in my life. But she doesn’t understand things with Carter, and she’s never going to.
Dating Tristan isn’t going to change that.
With a slight shake of my head, I peel my clothes off and leave them in a pile on the floor. I wait for the water to heat up, and I’m examining myself in the mirror when steam fills the bathroom. Once it does, I pull back the curtain and stand under the shower head, letting the water swirl at my feet.
Am I making this decision for the right reasons? Can I even raise a baby in this world? What is that even going to look like?
A million more questions race through my mind while I lather up some soap and scrub my skin. I’m wondering how the logistics of raising a baby are going to work, safety-wise, when I run my fingers through my hair. As soon as I’m done rinsing the shampoo out, I spend a few more minutes under the water, enjoying how it feels against my flushed skin.
When I come out, Sam isn’t in the room anymore, but she’s helped me choose an outfit.
I change into my jeans and a loose, flowery top, then drag a comb through my hair before blowing it dry. After using deodorant and spritzing on some perfume, I shove my feet into a pair of sneakers. Sam is waiting for me in a similar outfit at the foot of the stairs, and she smiles when she sees me. In silence, we make our way outside to the car parked next to the curb.
Paul is the one who drives us to the mall to meet up with our neighbors.
They’re already there when we arrive, and they have several shopping bags in hand. Sam and I offer them a smile, and she stays close while we wander through the air-conditioned mall, moving from one shop to the next. Now and again, I spot Paul and another of the Blackthorne men trailing a few feet behind us. When we go into a perfume store, I see the two of them linger outside and fold their arms over their chests.
