Page 71 of Pain in the Axe
“Come in,” she murmured.
“Brought you treats, Dragonfly,” I said, walking through the foyer. I hadn’t been inside since her birthday party a couple of weeks back, and it was even more impressive in the daylight.
In the kitchen, she opened the box of cookies. Instead of lighting up like I’d expected, she gagged and dropped it onto the counter, then walked to the other side of the room.
“Are you sick? Can I get you anything?” I grabbed a glass from the cabinet next to the sink and filled it with water.
She shook her head and wordlessly took the glass from me.
My heart was racing. Something was wrong. She hadn’t insulted me once, and she didn’t like her cookies. My mind jumped from one terrible possibility to another. God, I just wanted her to be okay.
“Sit,” she said, gesturing to a seat.
I refused. “Dragonfly, you’re scaring me,” I said softly.
She assessed me with wide, misty eyes.
“I’m here for you,” I pressed. “Whatever you need.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
That small reaction had the ground shifting beneath me.
“I’m pregnant,” she whispered.
The words hovered in the air between us for a moment before they registered.
“Pregnant?” I asked, my heart in my throat.
She nodded.
Confusion, shock, and joy flooded my senses, rendering me mute.Pregnant?
My entire world narrowed at that moment. And this woman was at the center of it. A baby. With Chloe. Us. Parenting together. A little person.
I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around her, my tears staining her old T-shirt. I couldn’t help but cry. Stoicism only went so far, and there were far too many emotions whirling inside me.
And a baby?
I clung to her, terrified and overjoyed. Fuck, this felt like the first day of the rest of my life.
I looked up at her tearstained face. At some point, she’d begun to cry, too. “This is the best day of my life,” I said softly. I put my head against her stomach. “The best day,” I whispered. “Should we call Father Renee now? It’s early, but if I text Nancy at town hall, she’ll get us a license.”
“License?” she asked, trying to pull back, but I wouldn’t let her go. “For what?”
“So we can get married. Remarried. Whatever.”
There was so much to do, to learn, to plan. My mind was spinning around and around and around.
“Gus,” she said, her tone firm. “Stand up.”
Gripping my arms and yanking them away, she took a step back and frowned down at me, so I stood.
“We need to establish some ground rules here. We are not getting married.”
“Yet,” I said, wiping a tear from my cheek.
“Sit down.” She pointed to the table. “I need you to understand something.”
