Page 75 of Only ever you-Ana & Byron
She took a trembling breath. "I need to tell you something, because no more secrets, yeah? If things go sideways...and well, it's my worst nightmare. Cadi and I talked about what should happen if things go wrong. And if I'm not in my right mind to make that call, she'll help."
Byron was silent for a long moment. His voice trembled as much as hers when he spoke.
"I'm terrified of losin' you now that I really have you," he said, brushing his lips across her hair.
"It won't happen, my love," Ana whispered against his collarbone. "It won't. I promise."
His tears dampened her gown, and he nodded against her neck. They snuggled there-her head on his shoulder, his arms her fortress, as dusk fell.
Her stomach growled, loud enough to make them both laugh.
"What are you craving tomorrow, eh?" Byron teased.
"Donuts," she said immediately. "Pancakes with crème fraîche and blueberries. French toast."
He placed his hand over the gentle curve of her belly. "We'll get you all that and more," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "It'll be fine."
Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, but inside that little room, they held onto each other and the promise of tomorrow.
***
Chapter thirty-two
Chapter 31
Afew years later
Byron watched the little wild-haired boy dart ahead, all chubby limbs, questions and untied shoelaces. It could only end in one way, and it did with him losing his balance and sliding on the wet grass before coming to a stop, his arms and legs splayed and a cheeky smile on his face.
His hair glowed auburn under the pale sun, wind tousling it like a flame. Tall for four, Deaglán had his grandmother's colouring and Byron's hazel eyes which were wide and always wondering.
"Daddy, did you see how I fell-ed... did you see daddy?" he shrieked.
"Yes, you did. And you did it on purpose, mate."
He giggled, just lay there as Byron tickled him. He loved being tickled and did nothing to defend himself.
"Daddy," the boy said finally, gripping Byron's fingers. "Do you think Ma's sad?"
Byron looked down at the sun glinting in his bright hair. "No... Yes... maybe a little."
"Why can't we be with her?"
"Well, sometimes you can't be with people you want to be. Just like you like pumpkin pie with whipped cream but..." he ruffled the boy's hair, "...you have to wait for the pumpkins to get sweet."
Deaglán considered this very seriously. "Why?
Byron considered what to say, "I think God just likes some of his kids better than others. And he wants to keep them close. Like I like to hug you all the time. "
Byron exhaled slowly, feeling that familiar twinge in his heart.
"Do you think he loves Ma?" Deaglán asked after a few seconds of digesting that, head tilted away from the sun.
"Yes," Byron said quietly. "He loves your Ma extra, extra special."
"Will he keep Ma with him forever under the tree? Or will she come play catch with me?"
Byron squinted toward the hill, where the sky met the field in a slow embrace. A large tree spread out on the crest, roots gnarled and half-exposed, tangled into the earth like old stories. It stood alone like a sentinel angel. Around its base, soft white wildflowers danced-wood anemones, the kind Ana had once said reminded her of starlight. Byron had planted them specially for her.
