Page 124 of The Love You Fight For
“Well, for what it’s worth,” Lennon says, “I’m proud of you. You’re a badass with a great ass, and I’m honored to be your best friend.”
I let out a laugh, and then Lennon laughs until we’re both laughing like fools at the brunch table. It feels refreshing in a way it never has before, and I realize it’s because I feel lighter. Healthier. Rested and loved and safe.
Happy.
Really, truly happy, with no other emotions trying to take control, and I’ve never actually felt that before.
I’ve never been wholly, completely, incandescently happy, and the realization makes me start to cry tears of relief. I never thought I would get to this point. I thought I would have to fight until my dying breath. Instead...here I am.
Laughing. Happy.Free.
Lennon puts her hand on mine, and when I look at her, her eyes are shimmering with tears that mirror mine. She squeezes my fingers and smiles.
“I love you, Dagger.” She smirks, referencing our matching tattoos.
“I love you, Daisy,” I say back, and then we fall into more laughter.
We laugh until our tears have stopped and the table beside ours has to ask us to be quiet. Then we laugh periodically throughout brunch and the rest of the day, until we’re collapsing on the couch in my cave for a sleepover later that night.
She’s so cute with her little pregnant belly. She props her feet up on my coffee table and rests her hands on her bump. Every once in a while, her baby will kick, and it’s the weirdest, most fascinating thing. She lets me plaster my hands to her stomach so I can feel it.
“Damn,” I say. “Does that hurt?”
He kicks again and I laugh.
“Sometimes,” she says. “I swear he likes to use my bladder as atrampoline, and that’s annoying. And sometimes it’s like he’s practicing kickboxing moves in there, and I could definitely do without that. He’s very active at two in the morning when I’m trying to sleep.”
“Fuck.” He kicks again and my eyes widen. “Can he hear me? Should I not be cussing?”
Lennon laughs.
“He can hear you.”
I press my face to her stomach.
“Hey, kid. I’m your auntie Sam. I’m going to spoil you rotten, okay? But you have to make sure you love me more than your uncle Chris. Maybe even more than your daddy, and definitely more than that bitch, Claire.”
Lennon laughs loudly, and the baby kicks in agreement. I grin.
“He understands,” I tell her, and Lennon shakes her head with a smile. I put my face back to her stomach. “I love you already, you little monster, but you have to quit beating up your mom because she’s my best friend. If you hurt her, we’re going to have words.”
Lennon chuckles.
“Macon’s already tried that. This baby does what he wants.”
I snort and push myself to standing.
“Yeah, well, Macon isn’t an alpha.” I grin. “I am.”
I pop us some popcorn and turn a movie on the television. Just as we’re settling in, Lennon’s phone chimes. When I glance at her, she’s frowning at the screen.
“Is Macon being needy again?” I tease and she laughs but doesn’t respond as she types something on her phone before setting it down on the couch beside her.
“It’s Claire,” she says.
My jaw drops, and I pause the movie.
“I’m sorry, what? Did I hear you right? That wasBitchface Claire?Dysentery Claire? Your evil ex-best friend and current evil stepsister?ThatClaire? That’s who texted you?”
