Текст книги "Forever with You"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter 30

When I returned to work on Monday, my body was still going through the motions of the miscarriage, but my luck was twofold. The office was closed on Thursday, Christmas Eve, and didn’t reopen until Monday, and I was able to schedule an appointment to get in and see my OB/GYN on the following Tuesday, snatching up a cancelled appointment.

While I was at work, I didn’t allow myself to think about what my body was going through. I focused on the errands I had to run and the renovation proposal for the recently acquired facility in West Virginia. Perhaps the whole avoiding what had happened routine wasn’t the smartest, but it was what helped get me through each day, and I think that it was important to take it day by day.

But I wasn’t alone.

On Sunday, I had packed some clothes and personal items and followed Nick back to his grandfather’s house. When he asked me to come home with him, I hadn’t hesitated. Sunday night we had spent time with his grandfather and then I’d fallen asleep in his arms. His presence and his understanding of the pain kept the worst moments—the ones where guilt and doubt started to creep up—from overwhelming me. Waking up with him wrapped around me went a long way, probably more than he realized.

Then again, I think Nick did know. I think that was why he insisted I stay with him until my mom whirled into town for Christmas. He was there in those moments when I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall back to sleep. Those moments when the heavy malaise twisted in discontent. I knew my body was going through a lot and it had my mood swinging all over the place, but it was also just . . . just hard as hell to deal with.

Part of me felt like I needed to spring back immediately. To move the hell along, because these things happened. They happened every day, and I was lucky that there hadn’t been any major complications so far, like an infection, or that I hadn’t been further along. In those dark moments in the middle of the night, it was hard to give voice to what I was feeling exactly, but I didn’t have to.

Nick seemed to sense just when I needed him. Even if he was asleep, his arms would tighten around me, and sometimes, when my restlessness woke him, he would talk to me until I fell back asleep, distracting me with some of the crazy things he’d seen while working at Mona’s. He was simply there for me, and I let him in completely.

And there was no denying how much I loved this man.

Mom arrived Christmas Eve morning, and after checking in at a nearby hotel, she came straight to my apartment. When she knocked on the front door, I glanced over at Nick as he rose from the couch. “You ready for this?” I asked.

A lopsided grin formed. “Of course.”

I wasn’t so sure as I opened the door. My mom could be . . . a lot to handle, and she all but tackled me as she rushed through the open doorway, wrapping her arms around me. I was enveloped in her warmth and vanilla-scented perfume.

Her hand smoothed over the back of my head. “Oh, my sweet girl . . .” She held me tight, and I was suddenly the little girl who just . . . just needed her mom, because now everything would be okay.

Loki’s muffled bark drew us apart. Looking over her shoulder, I spotted the little dog eyeing us from inside the carrier. I lowered my arms as I stepped back. “I better get the dog before it chews its way through the metal bars.”

Mom rolled her eyes, but she knew it could happen. When Loki wanted out of something, Loki got out of it. The dog could scale fences. As I picked up the carrier, I brought it into the apartment with me, closing the door behind us. I wasn’t surprised that she had Loki with her instead of leaving the dog at the hotel.

She didn’t leave Loki anywhere.

Nick stepped forward, extending a hand as his one-sided grin grew. “Hello, Ms. Keith.”

“And this must be Nick. Now I can see why you are so distracted when you’re on the phone with me and he’s around.” Mom eyed him as she took his hand.

He smiled as his gaze found mine. “I like her.”

“Of course you do,” I muttered as Mom checked him out.

“Wow. Stephanie, wow.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Oh my gosh.” My cheeks burned. “Mom.”

She chuckled as she turned back to Nick. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” Then she dropped his hand and folded him into one of her mom hugs. I could see that Nick was surprised, but he returned the gesture without awkwardness, and I loved him even more for that. “I’m so sorry about what has happened,” she said, her voice low as I bent down, unlocking Loki’s carrier. “These things are never easy, but you look like you have the shoulders to carry that weight.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to do just that,” he replied, earning a smile of approval from my mom.

Loki scrambled out, commencing the marathon sniffing event as Nick offered my mom something to drink. Nervously, I watched them move into the kitchen as I folded my arms across my waist. They were talking about her drive up here, how long she was staying, and just general chitchat as he made her coffee. I stayed back, pretending to keep an eye on Loki as the dog darted across the couch and then jumped to the floor, racing back toward the bedroom. When Mom looked over at me and winked, my lips curved up at the corners. She didn’t have to say it, but I knew she was already starting to fall for Nick herself.

Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the kitchen and my stomach twisted pleasantly as Nick drifted to my side, curving his arm around my shoulder. As my mom tinkered with the sugar and creamer, Nick leaned down and brushed his lips over my cheek.

I swallowed hard as I glanced up at him. “You doing okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah.” I smiled. “Yeah, I am.”

After my mom went back to the hotel with the little hooligan known as Loki, I packed a bag and rode back to Nick’s house to spend the rest of Christmas Eve there so Kira, the in-home nurse, could be home for the night. Mom would be joining us at Nick’s house in the morning, and it seemed like an awful big step, but Nick was chill about her coming over.

While Nick was upstairs checking in on his grandfather, I pulled the gift I’d gotten him for Christmas and carried it into the living room. With the TV off and only the flickering white light from the Christmas tree, a very mellow feeling settled over me as I sat on the couch.

It wasn’t long before Nick joined me on the couch. “How’s your granddad?” I asked.

“He’s sleeping.” He glanced down at my hands. “What’s that?”

I held up the small wrapped box. “It’s a Christmas present. I wanted to give it to you now.”

“You don’t want to wait?”

“I’m impatient. Plus it’s really not that awesome a gift.” I grinned when he laughed. “I mean, I suck at getting gifts. I’m not the most creative person when it comes to those things, but yeah, I just want to give it to you now.”

Nick grinned as he took the present from me, slipping his finger under the edges of the wrapping paper. He peeled the paper back and made quick work of it. When he flipped open the box, I pressed my lips together. “Whoa.” He reached in, lifting the watch out of the box. “This is nice, Stephanie.”

“Really?”

The smile reached his eyes. “Hell yeah. I’ve been saying for months I need to get a watch. It’s good to have one when I’m working.”

“It’s also water resistant,” I pointed out, feeling goofy, “and . . . yeah. I’m glad you like it.”

“I do.” Stretching over, he placed the watch on the coffee table, and as he straightened cupped my cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I whispered.

Nick kissed me slow and sweet, his lips and fingers lingering as he drew back. “Stay right here, okay?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

His eyes held mine for a moment and then he stood, disappearing around the corner of the couch. It sounded like he was heading into the bedroom. He returned quickly, taking his seat beside me. A square, unwrapped dark velvet box was in his hand. “Since you gave me your gift, I want to give you mine.”

I glanced up at him as I quietly took the box that was a little smaller than my palm. I had no idea what to expect when I popped it open, but when I saw what was in it, my breath caught.

Nestled in the box was a pair of silver dog tags. “Oh gosh,” I whispered as I smoothed my thumb over one of them. My throat clogged.

“It’s two of them.” Reaching over, he turned one around. His name was carved into it. “The other has your name. I know it sounds kind of cheesy. Dog tags. But I saw them in the store and they made me think of your dad and how your mom wears his tags. It was kind of spur-of-the-moment thing. You don’t have to wear them—”

I looped my arm around his neck and pulled him over, kissing him. “I will wear it. Every day.”

“Yeah?”

Sniffling, I nodded as I sat back and looked down at them. I pressed my lips together. The gift was so incredibly thoughtful. “Will . . . will you wear the other?”

“Fuck yeah.”

I laughed and my breath hitched again. Carefully pulling the tag with his name on it free, I slipped it over my neck, letting the cool metal slide under my sweater. I took the one with my name on it and lifted it. Grinning, Nick lowered his head and I slipped it over his head. He pulled his shirt loose, letting the tag with my name on it fall against his chest.

And then I smiled for what felt like the first time in days. The words came right out, requiring no effort. “I love you.”

Nick froze and his shirt floated back against his skin. He started as if he was about to say something and his head swung toward mine. His lips parted. “What?”

“I love you,” I repeated, holding his wide gaze. The pupils had dilated and the green seemed brighter. I couldn’t believe how easy the words were to speak. “I’m in love with you. I fell for you weeks ago—months ago—and I just wanted to tell you that.”

He stared at me.

“And you don’t have to say it back. I don’t—”

Nick’s large hands clasped my cheeks and within a stuttered heartbeat his mouth was on mine. The silky soft kiss stole my breath. “Let me hear it again,” he asked, his breath rough, but then he kissed me again, his tongue gently parting my lips. “Tell me.”

I wrapped my hands around his wrists. “I love you, Nick.”

“Christ.” He rested his forehead against mine, his large hands trembling as he held my cheeks. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“What?” I whispered.

He slid one hand around, his fingers delving deep in my hair. “Because I never thought I would be lucky enough to hear it—to know that what I felt for you was the same thing you felt for me.”

I stilled. There was a good chance I wasn’t breathing. A flutter started deep in my chest. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t just love you. I’m in love with you. Hell, I have been for a while, and I wanted to tell you that so many times over, but I . . . fuck, I couldn’t get it out of me. I don’t even feel like I deserve this.”

My heart was racing so incredibly fast. Tears blurred my eyes, and the sweetest yearning blossomed in the pit of my belly, chasing away everything else. “You deserve that.”

“I’m going to prove it to you, Stephanie. You have no idea.” His lips met mine again, and the kiss was deeper, rawer. “And you’re going to get tired of hearing me saying this. I love you. I’m so fucking in love with you, Stephanie.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that.” I slid my hands down his strong arms. “There’s no way.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “This is what I’ve been waiting for. You’re what I’ve been looking for.”

Nick’s hand flexed in my hair. “You don’t have to wait anymore. We don’t have to wait anymore.”

Chapter 31

Job Blanco, the kind and hardworking man who held his family together through the worst kind of tragedies, passed away peacefully, while asleep, on April eighteenth. When he slipped away early that morning, he hadn’t lost his battle with Alzheimer’s. No. Job had fought too long, too hard, and too bravely for him to have lost any fight.

He was simply done.

The timing of his death was not entirely unexpected. For several days Nick knew it was coming. He was still shocked when it happened, but the writing was on the wall, and while anyone would wish that was a message no one ever had to see, it enabled Nick to take the time off to be there with his grandfather.

For about a week, I spent the nights at his house, and I was so thankful that I was there with Nick, my arms wrapped around his waist, as he sat by his grandfather’s bed and said good-bye for the final time.

Saying good-bye was never easy, but I think there was a relief mixed in with the grief Nick was feeling. His grandfather was no longer suffering.

In his grandfather’s will, he had requested certain customs to be carried out based on his heritage, and Nick had honored those wishes, which weren’t very different than the processes I was familiar with. The funeral was less than a week after his death, and he was laid to rest beside his wife and the rest of his family, which had left long before him.

The following weekend I helped Nick at the house. We cleared out his grandfather’s bedroom, setting aside items that he wanted donated into one pile and little personal effects that Nick wanted to keep in another.

With spring in the air, there was something refreshing about the whole process, not just for Nick, but also for me. Windows were open. Breezy air floated through the rooms. Everything felt open and new. With each load of clothing I packed, it was like I was folding up the lingering guilt and the hurt, storing it away, because each day it got a little easier to deal with the loss of the baby. It got a little easier to accept that no one had done anything wrong, and each day both of us moved a little closer to moving on. It was a process, though, just like clearing out his grandfather’s room. One where some days it felt like one step forward was actually five steps backward. Some days it was hard not to try to hide from the pain, to not give in to the what-ifs of the past and of the future.

As expected, when I met with the doctor after the miscarriage, there were no answers as to why it happened and no way to guarantee that it wouldn’t happen again. We simply would not know until the next time I got pregnant. And not knowing was hard to process. It wasn’t like I dwelled on it every day, but there were moments when a near paralyzing uncertainty would seize me. Could I have kids? I didn’t know, but I kept telling myself that if I couldn’t, it would be okay.

Like Nick had said, we had each other.

And that was what we needed.

Nick wasn’t sure what he was going to do with his grandfather’s room, leave it as a guest bedroom or convert it into something else.

Standing in front of the newly remade twin bed, I looped my arm through his as I leaned into him. “You don’t have to make a decision right now about this room.”

“You’re right.” He turned his head and dipped his chin, brushing his lips across the top of my messy and probably dusty bun. “I think I’ll keep it like this for right now. I like it as a bedroom.”

My gaze traveled across the room. On the now empty dresser, framed photos of his grandfather over the years were lined up like little memory soldiers. Leaving this room as it was for now was a good idea. “Me, too.”

“Thank you for helping out. I really appreciate it.” Nick pulled his arm free and then reached down, taking hold of my hand. He lifted it. “But you’re filthy.”

I smiled up at him. “So are you, babe.”

“Then I think we need to rectify that.”

My body was immediately on board with that idea. Nick led me out of the room and downstairs, to the master bedroom off the kitchen. Nick made a show of stripping off our clothes, and it took longer than necessary, but there wasn’t a part of me that was disappointed in the pacing. I think, before the water was turned on and before the wispy steam filled the bathroom, he’d kissed every square inch of my body. And he wasn’t done yet.

“I love your lips.” He kissed me. “And those cheeks.” His lips found their way there. “I love your eyes.” He dropped a kiss against my brow and then started working his way down. “I love your throat.”

“My throat?” I laughed huskily.

“Uh-huh. And I love your shoulder blades.” He kissed my collarbone.

“You’re so fucking weird.”

“I’m so fucking in love with you.”

My heart squeezed. It did that every time I heard those words.

He worshipped every inch of my body, and when he took the tip of my breast into his mouth, sucking deep, he drew a ragged moan out of me, stirring up powerful desire. “And I really love these.”

I liquefied, ready for him to the point where it was almost painful. “Oh God.”

We took our time in the shower, and I was sure that no more than a handful of minutes was actually dedicated to the whole cleansing part. It wasn’t long before my back was pressed against the slippery tile and Nick was on his knees, drawing every soft cry out of me. My knees were weak and my body still trembling from a powerful release when he rose before me, the water sluicing off his bronze skin as he thrust into me, his green eyes latched onto mine in a possessive, consuming stare.

He stretched me in the most delicious way and he held me so gently, even as his body strained against mine. Our bodies were flush, hips-to-hips, chest-to-chest. “God, you feel too damn good for me to take my time.”

“Don’t take your time.” I skated my fingers over his skin, down his chest.

Nick groaned. His muscles trembled as he moved and my hands slipped over his skin. We quickly lost ourselves in each other, him pumping wildly, my hips meeting his, and it was no small miracle that we didn’t fall and break our necks in there.

Later, much later, we lay on his bed, face-to-face, our skin long since dried as he toyed with the damp strands of my hair. “I’ve been thinking,” he said.

I arched a sleepy eyebrow. “Congratulations.”

He chuckled. “Smartass.”

My smile stretched my lips. “What have you been thinking about?”

“It’s kind of random.” He tossed a strand of hair over my shoulder and then picked up another. “But I’ve been thinking of talking to Calla, telling her who my father is.”

My breath caught as some of the sleepiness faded. “For real?”

“Yeah.” One side of his lips kicked up. “What do you think about that?”

“What do I think?” I wiggled over to him, inching him onto his back. Straddling him, I placed my hands on either side of his face.

“I like where this is heading,” he murmured.

“Shush it,” I told him. “I think it’s a great idea.”

“You doing me on top?”

I cocked my head to the side, shooting him a bland look. “No. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

He laughed again, and those green eyes were lighter than I’d seen in days. “I know.”

Bending over, I kissed him lightly. “I’m proud of you.”

His hands settled on my hips. “Why?”

I raised a shoulder. “I just know it’s going to be a hard conversation to have, and I know how much you’ve really been thinking about this. Talking to Calla is a huge step to just letting all of that go.” I kissed him again and then sat up. “Whenever you’re ready to have that conversation, if you want me there, I’m there.”

“I want you there.”

“Then I’m there.”

One hand lifted, threading through my hair. He guided my mouth back to his, stopping just short of our lips meeting. “You know what?”

“What?”

He tugged me down so that when he spoke again his lips brushed mine. “I love you.”

My heart swelled so fast it was no wonder I didn’t lift both of us up to the ceiling. Those three words were words I would never, ever get tired of hearing. I kissed him again, and this time there was nothing soft or chaste about it. I whispered those very same words back to him and then I showed him just how much.

In the middle of the following week, while I was at work organizing Marcus’s schedule through the upcoming summer months, Nick texted about dinner with Calla and Jax the following Sunday.

Going out with them or Reece and Roxy wasn’t something new. We double– and triple-dated often, but I knew Nick had an ulterior motive for this, and I was nervous for him, because I knew this wouldn’t be easy for him. And I really, really hoped that my impression of Calla was correct, that she wasn’t going to hold anything against him.

I took more time than I normally did getting ready Sunday afternoon. Sort of like hopeful primping. I got a mani and pedi with Roxy and Katie in the afternoon, then I tried out one of those green clay masks I’d bought online the previous week. Thankfully, it didn’t stain my skin or do something weird. Then after a long shower, I dried my hair and artfully applied makeup.

“Artfully apply makeup” was code for putting a crap ton of makeup on but somehow managing to look like you weren’t wearing a crap ton of makeup.

Moving on to what to wear, I mulled over the idea of donning a cute spring dress, but it still wasn’t particularly warm, especially in the evenings. So I settled on dark blue skinny jeans, a light sweater, and eyed strappy heels I hadn’t worn yet this year.

I reached up on the top shelf and pulled the shoe box down. A piece of paper drifted free, floating to the floor. Shoving the box under my arm, I bent and picked up the paper.

My breath caught.

I should’ve known what it was once I felt the shiny texture of the paper, but I didn’t remember putting this in the closet. I’d probably done it when I was trying to remove all traces of being pregnant.

My hand trembled slightly as I walked to my bed. Sitting down, I placed the small photo next to me, and I didn’t look at it until I had my shoes on. Then I drew in a deep breath and picked it up.

Honestly, I still didn’t see a baby in the sonogram picture. It was just a black-and-white blob, but it had been my blob and it had been Nick’s blob. Pressing my lips together, I gave a little shake of my head. It didn’t hurt as much as it had before to see this. Confusion still existed. I would never know why it had happened and I wouldn’t know if there was a serious issue with getting pregnant until it happened again, but I knew now there wasn’t anything I could’ve done differently.

And I knew it was okay to still hurt over it.

Standing, I walked over to the shelf and stood the photo up against the one of my dad. It made sense for it to be there. Maybe one day I’d take it down again, store it away. Just like one day Nick would turn his grandfather’s bedroom into something else.

One day.

Nick arrived, looking as yummy as usual in his jeans and button-down shirt. He gave a low whistle when I stepped out in the hall, closing the door behind me.

I gave him a half curtsy. “Thank you.”

He chuckled as he draped his arm over my shoulder. “Weirdo.”

“Whatever.”

We met Jax and Calla at a local steakhouse. They were already there, seated in a booth, because we were late even though we’d left early. Nick got a little . . . frisky in the car outside my apartment and then again outside of the restaurant.

Calla shot me a knowing look as we slid into the booth across from them. Self-conscious, I lifted my hand to my hair, smoothing the waves.

Jax laughed under his breath. “Glad you guys could join us.”

“I know.” Nick picked up his menu, a slight smile on his lips. “You all are blessed by our presence.”

Calla giggled while Jax rolled his eyes. I tucked my hair back as I peeked over at Nick and then turned my attention to her. “So what are you guys getting?”

Her brows puckered as she glanced down at the open menu in front of her. “I think I’m getting the strip.”

“Porterhouse.” Jax patted his flat belly. “Porterhouse all the way.”

Nick tapped a finger off the center of the menu. “They have a rib-eye,” he said to me. “Bone in. You know you want it.”

I grinned. Yeah, I did. The waitress arrived, and once the orders were placed the conversation flowed. I’d ordered a wine, and then Nick made fun of me when I ended up getting a soda, because I couldn’t eat food while drinking water or wine. It was weird and made no sense. I completely knew that.

Calla talked about what she planned on doing when she finished her nursing degree. Having transferred to one of the local colleges to get it, two of her transfer credits hadn’t been accepted, so she’d be taking summer classes to finish up. Jax mentioned the plans he had for a small remodeling of Mona’s bar. He wanted to strip out the old floor and get rid of the tables and chairs. There was one topic I knew they wouldn’t bring up, because of what had happened to us, so I knew it would be up to me to cross that bridge.

After taking a sip of the Coke, I placed it next to my plate. “You guys have seen the pictures of Avery and Cam’s baby, right?”

Calla’s gaze shot to mine and she nodded. A moment passed. “I’ve never seen a baby before with so much red hair.”

“She could be a Weasley sibling,” I said, placing my hands in my lap. No one had sent me the pictures at first or brought it up around me when Avery went into delivery a week shy of nine months. I’d seen Roxy showing Katie two weeks ago, and then after a few days I got Avery’s number from her and sent her a congratulations text. After a few back and forth texts, I got a picture of the tiny baby girl.

Avery and Cam’s child was gorgeous.

Jax chuckled. “Don’t tell Cam that, because I think Avery tried to name her Ginny.”

I laughed. “But Ava is such a beautiful name.”

“Fits them, I think,” Calla agreed, smiling tentatively at me.

From what I gathered from the bits and pieces I’d heard from everyone, Avery’s delivery hadn’t been easy, and there were some complications. I didn’t know the details and I hadn’t felt comfortable asking for them. I was just glad that in the end they were a happy family of three.

“What are you planning to do with your grandfather’s house?” Jax asked as he picked up the beer he’d ordered.

“My grandfather left the house to me, so it’s mine and it’s free and clear,” Nick explained. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do long-term, but for right now, I’m going to keep it.”

“It’s a great house,” I threw out.

Jax nodded. “Hell yeah it is. You’re sitting on a nice nest egg.”

“Yeah.” Nick leaned against the booth, stretching his arm along the back. His fingers brushed over my hair, then played with it, but his posture had shifted. He stiffened, and I knew he was about to drop the bomb on them.

I reached over, under the table, and placed my hand on his knee, letting him know that I had his back.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you guys,” he began. “Something I probably should have said a long time ago.”

Jax’s brows knitted as he glanced over to a confused Calla, and then he said, “Okay. You’ve got my curiosity. What’s up?”

When Nick’s attention shifted to Calla, I wished I’d had the foresight to order a second glass of wine. His shoulders lifted with a deep breath and then he said, “Blanco is my grandfather’s last name—my mother’s maiden name—but my father’s last name was Novak.”

Calla blinked slowly as her face paled a little. “Novak?” She sat back, her hands falling into her lap.

Beside her, Jax frowned as he stared across the table. “Wait a sec. Novak was . . .”

“Novak Construction,” Nick confirmed quietly.

“Oh my God.” Calla’s hand rose toward her cheek, but she stopped short of touching the scar.

My chest squeezed when Jax reached over, wrapping his fingers around her wrist, gently pulling her hand back down. “What are you saying, Nick?”

Nick exhaled roughly and then told them everything—about his father and the electrician he hired, and what his father eventually had done. He told Calla that her mother had known who his father was and that he’d been shocked when he’d first seen Calla, never expecting to see her walk into the bar.

When Nick finished, Calla gave a little shake of her blond head. Several moments stretched out, and I began to fear the worst, but then she finally spoke. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, and then said, “Actually, that’s a lie. You were dealing with a lot then and I didn’t want to add to it. I didn’t want to mess up your life any more than—”

“Wait,” she interrupted, her eyes widening as she held up a hand. “Why would you mess anything up? What happened to my family wasn’t your fault. I mean, you had to be just a kid then.”

Nick sucked in a ragged breath while a strong jolt of release burst through me. Jax nodded in agreement. “She’s right. You had nothing to do with any of that.”

“But knowing who my dad was has to be a shitty reminder,” Nick protested. “That can’t be easy.”

“It’s definitely surprising. I am a little shocked, but I’m so, so sorry to hear what happened to your father and mother,” Calla rushed on, her blue eyes shining. “I know what it’s like to lose someone, and that couldn’t have been easy on you.”

Nick closed his eyes. “You’re apologizing?” His voice sounded strangled, and I squeezed his leg. “There’s nothing you need to apologize for.”

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for either,” she insisted, her voice ringing with sincerity. “I get why you didn’t say anything, but I want you to know that knowing who your dad was doesn’t change the way I think of you.”

“I . . .” Nick’s voice was hoarse, and I leaned into his side. The arm around the back of the booth curled around my shoulders. “That’s a . . . major relief to hear.”

“Part of me wants to punch you for thinking that it would change a damn thing,” Jax said.

Nick chuckled as he dragged his other hand along his jaw and then dropped it on the table. “Yeah, I sort of want to punch myself, but once so much time had passed, it just became harder to say something.”

“I get that.” Calla reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “You know, what happened—the fire? It destroyed a lot of lives. Not just mine or my family, but yours, too.” Her gaze flickered to mine. “A tragedy is a tragedy, no matter what, but I’ve learned that it doesn’t define who we are and it doesn’t weaken us. It makes us stronger. It took me a long time to figure that out.” She glanced at Jax and smiled. “I had help in that department.”

Nick’s arm tightened around me and I rested my cheek on his shoulder. I smiled faintly at her and whispered, “So did I.”