Page 65 of Sin Wagon
I’m sure the bitch said horrible things to my girl, even if Delilah brushed them off.
“Wells? Is everything okay? Is Delilah okay? Shit! Is she having the baby?” Jonas' voice is urgent, panicked.
“No. I’m not having the baby. Lord,” she answers, but keeps her eyes shut. “We’re calling because I ran into Mommy dearest a bit ago and she had a lot to say.”
“Are you alright?”
“Yes. Christ, it’s like you both forgot I lived with the woman for eighteen years. She can’t hurt me, just annoy the piss out of me.”
“So what happened? Did she say something about the case?”
“She’s dropping the charges and telling the cops, district attorney, or whoever that it was all a lie,” Delilah says, her voice growing softer, exhaustion taking over.
Jonas sucks in a sharp breath. “How? Why?”
“I threatened her popularity and seat amongst the rich,” Little Doe replies, her voice getting softer.
“What if she doesn’t? Can we really take her word for it?” Jonas' skepticism is clear, and I understand his hesitation. Claudia isn’t exactly known for her honesty.
“She will,” Delilah answers. “Trust me.”
“Thank you.” Jonas sighs. “Thank you so much.”
“Anytime. Now, your brother has to get off the phone cause I need to sleep.”
“Okay.” He chuckles. “Talk to you later, Wells.”
“Talk to you later.” I hang up and set my phone on the nightstand, turning my attention back to Delilah. She’s alreadyhalf-asleep, her breathing steady and peaceful. I feel a deep sense of gratitude and love for this woman who has endured so much and still manages to be so strong and resilient.
Love?
Is that what this is? I wonder, looking at her peaceful face. I always thought I knew what love was, but this feels different, deeper. But how can I know for sure when it’s only been such a short time? This connection, this pull toward her—how can I trust it’s real when everything has happened so fast?
And then there’s the way I treated her before now, leaving her to her own devices. Will she ever feel the same for me? Or will she constantly carry that grudge, a barrier between us I can never fully tear down? It seems as if she’s already over it, but is she? Or is she just masking her hurt and anger for the sake of the baby?
I don’t know, but I’m going to show her. I’m going to prove to her that I know I fucked up and have every intention of being with her, supporting her, loving her. Although I can’t change the past, I can be here now, and I can be here for the future. For her, for our baby.
I stroke a strand of hair away from her face, her soft skin warm against my fingertips. Love should be clear-cut, right? But with Delilah, it’s a tangle of emotions—passion, protectiveness, tenderness, and yes, even fear. Fear of losing her, fear of not being enough.
Maybe love isn’t one thing. Maybe it’s all these feelings combined—a messy, beautiful, complicated truth. As I watch her sleep, I realize that whatever this is, I don’t want to let it go. I don’t want to let her go. If this is love, then I’m all in.
I kiss her forehead gently, a silent promise to be there for her, to figure this out together.
“I love you, Little Doe,” I whisper, more certain of it with every passing moment. And I will spend every day proving it to her, showing her that she and our baby are my everything.
I lay a hand on her belly and close my eyes, reveling in today and the feel of her next to me. Her warmth, the rise and fall of her breathing—it’s all so grounding. A sudden bump has my hand pulling back, and I look at her swollen belly and smile.
Was that my child kicking me?
I set my hand back down, anticipation bubbling inside me, and wait. Sure enough, I feel it again, a small but firm kick.
“Hi, Little One. It’s your daddy. I can’t wait to meet you,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice low so I don’t wake Delilah.
I can’t help but wonder what it will be like to finally hold you in my arms, to see your tiny fingers and toes, to hear your first cry. Will you have her eyes? Her smile?
The tiny life inside her, our baby, feels so real and immediate now. I think about the future, about late-night feedings, first steps, first words. I’m scared, but I’m ready. Ready to be a father, ready to be there for both of them.
I look at Delilah, her face peaceful. She’s been through so much, and I’ve made mistakes, but I’m here now. I’m going to make sure she knows every day how much she means to me, how much I love her. She deserves nothing less.
