Page 126 of Born for Lace

Leaning to the side, I stare between the two front seats through the windscreen. A black dot appears in the glowing exit ahead, the speck growing as we approach, taking form, becoming a figure. A man.

I grab the door handle, tensing my body to prevent my eagerness from throwing me out of the vehicle too soon. It’s him.

Itishim.

With the car barely at a stop, I jump from it and run at him. My body hits his. I throw my arms around Tomar, and he envelops me, rocking me like no time has passed.

“You came! You came back!”

“Dahlia…”My name rushes out through a startled gasp. When he pushes me out in front of him, his hands slide down to my hips and his eyes follow. “You’re… You’re…”

“Did you find him?”

“You’re pregnant?”

On my tippy-toes, I take Tomar’s stunning face in my tiny hands, trying to direct his gaze to mine but it’s arrowed on my swelling abdomen.

“Tomar! Did you find him? Is he alive?” My eyes burn, tears boiling behind them, quickly finding an escape as I lose control. “Please,please.”

Something changes in Tomar’s expression as he stares at my pregnant belly, blinking. Something shifts…

“No,” he murmurs, his mouth fumbling, eyes deep in thought, before he adds, “I mean, yes. Yes.”

“Yes, what?” I shake his head, and he grips my hands, pulling them from his cheeks. I search him, eyes darting across his frozen features to decipher his unnerving intent.

Tomar swallows over thick hesitation, and then his blue gaze lifts slowly from my belly. “I found him,” he states.

My chest squeezes. “Is he alive?”

He pauses for what feels like a lifetime, an entire rotation of The Cradle…

Then says, “Yes.”

Lagos.

My Lagos, my Shadow with no smiles, with one great experience—me—is alive.

I close my eyes, holding them like that as tears wash my face, as my mind accepts the moment, and my lips work to form words.

“Is he coming for me?”

“No.”

I open my eyes.

It takes a moment for the word to sink in, blinking, and blinking, and blinking at him.

“Wha- what do you mean?”

Tomar shifts on his feet, checking over my shoulder. “He wants you to move on with your new life, forget about him, don’t look for him.”

A short, painful scoff scratches up my throat, seeming more like broken glass than air.

“I… I can’t.” I huff a mirthless laugh, my brain throbbing with anguish. “I have his child inside me. Won’t he want to know?”

“I’m sorry, Dahlia. He won’t.”

I step backward. “Stop.”

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