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Ella
Fromourhidingspotbeside the shed on the harborside, we watch the two SUVs disappear out of sight
Phew, that was close.
I can’t believe I got away… again. Though only because Aiden pulled me out of the shed.
“Stay here,” he whispers to us. “I’m going to check that they’re all gone.”
He disappears around the side of the building.
In a daze, I lean against the metal wall. My heart is beating so fast, it’s nauseating.
I wish I had run a sprint race, and that was the cause for my erratic heart rate, but no. There’s only one hunky Italian reason.
He was really here.
I felt him, just like I always do. But this time I could also feel his pain. It was raw, as if still bleeding. It’s gutted me.
Most disturbing of all, there was also hope in his eyes. And I’m dashing it all over again, adding to his pain.
All the emotions I buried in the past two weeks claw their way back to the surface, as if having waited patiently for this moment. They tear open the wound of my broken heart anew. I’m so far from being healed, I can’t see the horizon.
Sliding down the side of the building, I hug my legs to my chest. Tears sting my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. I’m done crying no matter how much it hurts.
I close my eyes, willing the memories to fade away, but they cling to my mind like stubborn vines. Strangely, it’s not the crippling pain of our last encounter that’s on replay.
Triggered by Tiero’s hopeful expression, it’s the laughter we shared, and the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. I saw a lot of that when we were on the island.
And the nights we spent wrapped in each other’s arms? The memory still ignites a thousand stars inside me. We were so happy—even if only for a few days.
Now it’s like a bittersweet film, reminding me of what I lost… what we both lost.
I hate myself for having hurt him.
But I can’t allow myself to be pulled back into that vortex of love and sorrow.
“Are you okay?” Claudette asks, concern etched across her face as she sits down next to me.
Am I?
I lift my hands up to my face. They’re trembling.
I shake my head. No, I’m not okay. But it doesn’t matter. We don’t have time for me to fall apart and I’m grateful for it.
Claudette squeezes my hand, offering silent support, but it’s not enough to quiet the turmoil inside me.
“You did the right thing,” she says softly. Then, looking at my stomach, she adds, “For her.”
My hands go to the spot where Tiero’s and my baby is growing, rubbing my fingers over it.
Have I done the right thing?
Tiero didn’t look angry like I expected. Instead, he seemed to carry so much sadness.
Was I wrong?
He would love our baby even if it was a girl, wouldn’t he? He’d dote on her because she’s the result of our love.
