Page 70 of Mending Hearts

“I don’t care about all this art. Let’s go home.” Her voice was soft, and she rose on her toes to kiss my cheek.

What would my life be like in a few months when she disappeared? When I watched events like tonight and longed for her? An ache that would never go away, that would be magnified each time I looked at our child.

“Let’s go home,” I agreed, drawing her close and kissing her temple. Even if I was going to lose her, I still had her now.

Chapter Twenty-One

Mia

One of the things I loved about Tyler was the space he gave. He never tried to crowd or force me to tell him things I didn’t want to deal with. Sometimes, I wished I was more like that.

“I need you to tell me again.” I lay in our bed at the train station, staring at the ceiling and cupping my stomach. Now that we slept together, curled around each other like cats, Sunday was my favorite day. He never went to the shop, and I rarely bothered to write unless inspiration struck like lightning. “But you need to mean it this time.”

Tyler laughed, and then he peered down at me. “I meant it the last time.” His eyes danced.

“Yeah, but you were laughing, so it didn’tsoundlike you meant it.”

“You asked me if you looked like a manatee. I don’t even know how you’d come up with a comparison like that.”

“It was either that, or like… I don’t know…a hippo? Except, I don’t have a tail that shotguns shit, so that comparison is unrealistic.”

“That’s why the comparison is unrealistic? You look nothing like a manatee or a hippo. You’re not that big. You might feel that big, but you’re not.”

“It’s like someone blew up a beach ball in my uterus.”

“Maybe a basketball, not a beach ball.”

“When you imagined your life, did it look like this?” With a sigh, I turned my head to look at him.

“Are you still joking, or is that a serious question?” The smile slipped from his face.

“Serious.” I tangled my fingers with his. “When you were my age, what’d you think your life would be like at your age now?”

“Well…” He glanced up at the ceiling and released a long breath. Propping his head up with his hand, he rubbed my bare belly in slow circles. “In my head, it looked a lot like the other week at the gala.”

“What?” I cupped his cheek, forcing him to meet my gaze. He’d hinted at his former dreams the night we talked about Katie, but I hadn’t realized he wantedthatlevel of fame.

“I wanted to design kick-ass clothing that people loved, or that transformed people on stage.”

“What else?” There was anand; I could feel it.

He stared down at me for a long time, and the air began to hum. The baby was taking over, dominating me body and soul. When he looked like this, I loved him, loved him so much. The emotion caused my chest to ache, caused my heart to beat unevenly with the fear and excitement of speaking those words. But saying them would be a lie, so I pressed my lips together, willing them to stay in. This sweeping, soul-deep feeling made me glad it was the baby and not me. I’d never survive loving someone this much, this intensely.Thiscouldn’t be regular romantic love, the kind everyone experienced.

“What’s your best childhood memory?” He traced the side of my face with his finger.

“Hmm.” I tapped my lips with a manicured nail. Tyler had learned how to put on and take off gel nails once I couldn’t leave the house. “Learning to play the piano with my grandmother. My dad’s mom. Singing with her, too. She’s the reason I know how to do anything. I spent every day after school with her until I was twelve.”

“What happened when you were twelve?”

Tears pricked at my eyes, and I blinked them back. There had been no weird cravings, no ferocious mood swings, just this liquid seeping from my eyes all the time. Like the tears I refused to shed for years were leaking out, one random conversation at a time. “She died. Heart attack.”

“What was her name?” He brushed his lips against my temple, my forehead, and then my mouth.

“Victoria.” I ran my fingers along the tips of his hair. “She’s the reason I love music so much, the reason I started writing songs. I had all this grief and nowhere to put it. My mom was too busy working, and since I was twelve, I was old enough to look after myself. My dad, well, he’s never been much good and only got worse after my grandma died.”

With a tenderness that made my stomach swoop low, he wiped away my tears. “I know you can’t control it, but, God, it twists my gut in knots to see you crying.”

“You might need an antacid or two for that.” With a soft laugh, I cupped his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

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