Page 48 of Lost Summer
I wasn’t sure if I could handle Ted always having to be tethered to Elena—not just for nine months, but for eighteen years and beyond. But I knew, without a doubt, that I couldn’t lose him again. That pain was far worse than any hypothetical future I couldn’t predict.
“Yes. I want it to. I want us to figure it out. I...I love you, Ted. More than anyone. But this—” I waved a hand before dropping it to the bed between us. “It’s a lot. There’s no rulebook here...but we’re in love. That needs to be enough, doesn’t it?”
Ted stared at me for a long moment, the silence between us thick and charged. Then, slowly, he nodded.
“I know. It is a lot.” He reached out, his hand finding mine, squeezing gently. “But if you’re willing to fight for this—for us—then I will, too. No matter how messy it gets.”
Relief swept through me like a tidal wave, crashing against the walls of my insecurity. “I am,” I whispered, my voice breaking just a little. “I’ll fight for us, Ted.”
Ted’s expression softened, and he pulled me into his arms, his lips pressing softly against my temple. “That’s all I can ask for,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “That’s all I’ll ever ask for.”
As I lay there, wrapped in his warmth, I could feel the truth in his kiss and touch. We were heading into a storm, no doubt about it. But as long as Ted was beside me, and we held on to each other, there was hope that we could survive the things life was throwing our way.
Later that afternoon, as Ted wrapped his arms around my waist while I stood washing dishes in the kitchen, the world outside our little cocoon didn’t seem to loom quite as large. For that moment—just that moment—it felt like we had a chance.
We just had to keep holding on.
No matter what.
“I’m scared,” I admitted softly, resting my cheek against his chest and listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. “I’m scared that this is going to get too hard. That...that the pressure will break us before we even get a chance to really start.”
He tightened his arms around me. “I’m scared too. But I’ll fight, Adele. I’ll fight for us every single day, and I’ll never stop. You’re the one, and I want this with you.” He paused, his voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want this with anyone else.”
I allowed his words to sink in, closing my eyes and letting myself believe them.
No matter what Elena did or how complicated things became, I knew that Ted and I had something worth fighting for. Something real. Something that no one else could take from us.
And for the first time in days, I didn’t feel like I was losing ground.
I kissed him then, slow and tender, like it was the only way I could pour out all the feelings inside me, all the love I had that would never go unspoken again.
We’d face whatever came next—the baby, Elena, the future—together.
24
TED
Elena: I need to see you—it’s the baby. Please come to the apartment asap.
The hum of the city was more oppressive than usual, buzzing at the edges of my consciousness as I stood in front of Elena’s apartment once again. I stared at the apartment door, feeling the weight of what was to come pressing down on my chest. It was the same door I had stepped through countless times before, back when everything felt simple, and I thought that making the right decisions would lead to a tidy, predictable life.
But now, things were anything but tidy.
Inside, Elena was waiting for me—waiting to have the conversation we’d both been avoiding for far too long. The baby she was carrying wasn’t just some abstract idea anymore. It was real. A boy.Myboy. Somehow, that knowledge felt both exhilarating and terrifying at once. But as much as I was ready to step into the role of a father, I wasn’t prepared to paint myself into a life that didn’t include Adele.
Not again. Not ever.
My fingers hovered over the door handle, my breath heavy in my chest. I couldn’t put this off any longer. It wasn’t fair—to Elena, myself, or the baby.
I knocked softly.
“Come in!” Elena’s voice echoed through the hallway, a forced brightness to it that grated on my nerves.
Steeling myself, I pushed the door open.
Her apartment was immaculate, as always. Every surface gleamed, every cushion perfectly placed like we were about to have a photo shoot instead of a serious conversation about how irreparably fucked things had become. I couldn’t help but compare it to the cosiness of Adele’s apartment. Her place was a sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world, filled with vibrant, mismatched cushions covering every inch of the sofa, each softer than the last. A few hand-crocheted throws draped over the back of her sofa, inviting you to sink into it with a cup of tea. The soft, golden glow of fairy lights hung along the windows. Every surface was layered with knick-knacks—a half-read book here, a candle flickering in a cinnamon scent there, and a small vanilla candle on the coffee table. That was a home, lived-in and loved, full of personality and charm, with an effortlessness that reminded me precisely why I ached for her. My heart swelled, reminding me I was doing the right thing.
Sitting on an off-white chaise with crossed legs, Elena plastered a broad smile.
