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“Nova, is there something you’re not telling me?”
I see her features rearrange. Whatever she unleashed by accident is neatly packed away behind a pleasant smile.
“I’m tired, Zeke. It’s been a long and emotional day,” she says, not making eye contact. I decide to drop it because I may not be a genius, but I understand that I’m not getting anything more out of her.
By the time we’re back at the apartment, she’s gone completely.
“I’m going to go to bed.” She doesn’t wait for me to answer before her door shuts softly, and I’m left alone with the complete understanding that I was right.
Something is up. And it’s big.
I’m awakened by a bang, and I roll over, groggy and unfocused. The strip of light under the door says she’s awake. The banging says she’s doing something in the kitchen.
I swipe my phone off the side table and check the time. It’s three-twenty in the morning. What the fuck?
I whip the blankets off and stand, shuffling through the fog of sleep that still clings to my bones. I yank my underwear on, thinking better of going out there naked. The light is blinding as I swing the door open, and I scrub my eyes, trying to adjust.
Nova sits at the island with her head in her hands. Her posture is defeated, and it jolts me awake faster than a shot of cold water to the face.
“Nova?” I ask, and she startles but doesn’t look at me.
“I couldn’t sleep. Sorry if I woke you,” she says, her voice thick and her accent heavy.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and she finally looks at me, her swollen, red-rimmed eyes scanning my body.
When she meets my gaze, tears pool at the edges and spill out. “No,” she sobs, and I step toward her.
“Hey, come here.” She slides off the stool, and her body crashes into mine with the force of her anguish. “What’s wrong?”
Nova wraps her arms around my waist and tightens them. She crushes me against her, and the sobs shatter my soul. I feel the weight of her fear and gladly hold her up as it moves through both of us.
I flatten her hair and hold her close. Eventually, she shifts to see me, sniffing hard. She’s still beautiful and captivating, snot and all.
“I’m having a baby,” she hiccups and starts sobbing all over again.
I tuck her back to my chest and use every ounce of strength I have not to burst out laughing. This is a testament to how I’ve changed. Even I now understand that laughing at a crying pregnant woman is a fucking terrible idea.
“Youarehaving a baby,” I say slowly, hoping it doesn’t come out with the sarcasm that sounded in my head.
She looks at me again, clinging to my sides with sharp nails. “I know I’m having a baby. But Zeke, I’m going tohavethis baby. It’s going to get huge and stretch my body, and I’m going to have to push it out, and it’s going to hurt, and then I’m going to have to keep it alive until it’s a grown up and I’m so scared.”
Her words all tumble out on top of each other, each one hoisted out with a heavy helping of fear. It’s visible in her eyes, and the depth of it strikes at my own fears. But beneath how ridiculous it sounds, there’s more to this than the unknowns of childbirth. The fear, the jumpiness, the whole idea of her being here and avoiding her family.
“And I’m alone. And I’m afraid. I’m nineteen. What kind of mom can I be? I can’t even take care of myself.”
I push her hair off her face, needing to stop this negativity train before it derails and explodes in a fiery show. “Hey,” I say sternly. “Listen to me. You are not alone. Of course, you’re afraid. But Briggs became a mom younger than you, and she’s one of the most loving and caring mothers I’ve ever seen.”
Nova stares at me in this way that brings the pressure of the universe down on my shoulders. Like what I tell her now, at this moment, is what she’s going to absorb and digest as absolute truth. I have no clue what to do with this power she’s put in my hands, so I say the only thing I’m sure is true.
“I’m here, Nova. You’re not alone. I’m here, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.”
She flings her arms around my neck and stands on tiptoes to match my height. I easily brace her weight and stand in the cold living room in my underwear as she drenches me with tears. Maybe her family is as fucked as mine. Maybe something happened to her. Maybe someone hurt her. I tighten my arms around her at the thought. I never thought myself a protective guy, but the idea that she’s been hurt or abused makes me never want to let her go. Whatever it is, I want to shield her from it and take all this pain from her. At this moment, I’d take it all on as my own to stop her crying.
“Come with me,” I say, snatching a box of tissues off the counter before taking her hand and leading her into my room. “You don’t need to be alone right now.”
I crawl into my bed and pat the mattress, inviting her in. She hiccups and chews on her thumbnail for long enough that I worry she’s not going to take me up on my offer.
After a moment, she climbs in next to me. She tucks her back against my chest, and I lay the comforter over us both. Her body moulds to the shape of mine, the perfect little spoon. Once she’s tucked in, I lay my arm over her, pulling her tighter to me. I trail my fingers down the softness of her arm and over her wrist. In the dark, I find her palm, and she immediately laces her fingers through mine.
Her breathing slows and eventually matches mine, rising and falling together. I’m convinced now that she’s running from something, and I curve around her tighter. The sense of ease and perfection that comes with her body against mine keeps my heart steady and my anger in check.
The truth is, I feel like I was built for this moment, for this sense of need that she has for me right now. I don’t have to protect her with bravado like Xan or strength like Jet. This vow to be here, calm and steady, is what she needs.
Because maybe she’s not the only one who is terrified of being alone.
Maybe this is as much for me as it is for her.
