Page 96 of Love and Loathing

“It was worth it. And… I think I needed to do it—for my sake, too. Stand up to him.” She drew back, met his eyes. “He said Iwon,Aubrey. I know I have the most fucked up, unhealthy relationship imaginable with him, but it felt so good to hear him say I’dwon. If I never see him again, I’m happy to leave it at that.” She laughed slightly. “And he should have known better than to pick on someone I cared about. I’ve spent my whole life fighting. I don’t back down. I don’t give up.”

That was true enough. George Blackton probably hadn’t stood a chance. And she’d done it forhim. His heart twisted sharply. Once, on a hilltop, looking out at the setting sun, he’d told her he wasn’t a worthy cause to fly her flag at. Being Evie, she’d gone and done it anyway. He was agonisingly glad.

“Thank you,” he said, lips pressed to her hair. “Thank you.”

She looked up at him, no games or mischief in her eyes. “Anything for you, Aubrey. Anything.”

God, when would happiness ever stop feeling like pain? Maybe it always would for him. He felt it too deeply. Or perhaps he was just too raw. But it knifed through him, surging and wild, a ripping, tearing joy. It was hard to keep his hands gentle as he cradled her face, swept his thumbs over the fragile cheekbones, met the wide-open look in those blue eyes. He kissed her, and that hurt, too, sweetness and fire, the touch of her mouth a flame. He wanted to sink it all inside her, give it all to her, his joy and his fear and his gratitude and his need. The way he worshipped her felt too big to hold. He had to tell her, had to let her know with the touch of his tongue and the hunger of his touch, stepping her back to bump up against the counter. This was another primal thing, like the sight of her slim body engulfed in his clothes; another way to consume, to have—

“Aubrey.” She broke away, breathless. “Aubrey…there’s the other thing… The other thing I need to tell you…”

“What?” he said, impatient. He didn’t care now, words were unimportant, nothing that had mattered mattered at all compared to the feel of her, nothing that had been terrible ever could be if she kissed him, loved him.

“Aubrey…I might be pregnant.”

FORTY

Aubrey turned to stone.Or that’s how it seemed. He went utterly, absolutely still.

“What?” he said.

Evie felt the opposite of stone. She was a trembling leaf, heart racing, heat rushing under her skin like a river.

“I might be pregnant.”

It sounded so strange said out loud. Something that couldn’t possibly be true. This was a conversation other people had. Alien and impossibly grown up.

His gaze dropped down her body, settled on her stomach—on the absolute lack of anything to be seen.

“It’s early, if I am. Six weeks, eight weeks. Something like that. I don’t really know how it all works. I need to look it up. Obviously I need to do a test first. I don’t know if I am. It’s just I’m late and…”

“Oh my God.”

He looked up from her flat stomach, and what she saw in his eyes was what she had dreaded: joy. Because what if she wasn’t?What if she wasn’t and he got excited and she did that weird thing with the stick that people did in movies and the lines didn’t say whatever it was that he hoped they said?

That was how she knew that she wanted this almost as much as he did. When she imagined the stick saying no, her insides dropped and a hollow, empty feeling filled her chest. And how absurd! Ridiculous to be hoping for a baby at her age and with everything so fragile and new between them, but God…she wanted it. There was nothing rational about it at all. There never was. Not about love or attraction or feelings or any of the things that really, truly mattered.

He took hold of her hand, his grip uncharacteristically weak. He was trembling. She felt it in the touch of his other hand on her cheek.

“Evie…”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I only just realised I was late and I need to do a test and—”

“Evie. Look at me.”

There was nothing weak in the way his eyes held hers. “Whatever happens. Whatever way it goes. It will be OK.”

She swallowed. “And you…you…”

“I want children, yes. With you. And now, if that’s what you want. Or in the future, if that’s how it goes. I can wait if…” His gaze went once more to her stomach. “If it turns out that way. Or if…if it’s too soon for you.” He looked at her again. “What do you want, Evie?”

She brought his hand to her stomach, mind full with a hundred different things. “This. I want this.”

“Oh, God…” the words broke from him, breathed to the air. She could see it in him, the hope that burned, that he was trying to keep away from.

“Shall we…shall we go and buy a test?”

They went to the same supermarket where they’d bought the ingredients for dinner. Miso soup and chicken and a hope that things might work. Now they walked the over-bright aisles hand in hand, moving as though this was a dream, the floor feeling unreal beneath her feet, here now to see if they’d somehow created an entire new person.

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