Page 250 of Safe Word

I’d grown up learning how to recoil, not how to comfort.

What if I ruined it – them – like I ruined everything else?

I felt her hand twitch beneath mine and I reminded myself to breathe.

I wasn’t him.

I clung to that belief like a drowning man clung to driftwood. But Jesus, it terrified me – the thought that something so innocent could inherit even a shadow of the monster that I was.

The sun came out then, clearing her eyes. And for a moment, the fear cracked.

I saw everything in them.

And a strange thought came over me: Christ, I hope the baby will have her eyes.

Eyes that didn’t look away. Eyes that made even someone like me believe in something better.

I swallowed the fear. Tempered the joy.

Only when the words settled like stone in deep water did I reach for her hand, brought it to my lips, and held it there.

‘You’re sure?’ My voice broke around it.

‘I need to see a doctor but…’ she croaked.

Something in my chest shattered and rebuilt itself at the same time.

She must have seen something on my face because she sucked in a breath, her eyes searching mine.

‘How do you feel about that?’

I couldn’t answer right away. The moment stilled… full of everything. Things I couldn’t put into words.

I exhaled, scratched the back of my neck, let out a breath through my nose.

‘Well… guess we’re not sleeping in any more,’ I murmured.

She let out a nervous chuckle. Then another, softer.

And that was it.

She leaned into me like it was enough.

Like I was enough.

And kissed me.

I tasted the fear we hadn’t spoken, the hope I didn’t deserve. And promises I was still learning how to keep.

Pulling away slightly, I handed her the tiny square device; something Matteo had rigged last night, right after he called me a sick bastard.

She frowned, looked down at it.

‘What is this?’ she asked.

‘A full stop,’ I said.

She stared at it for a moment, thumb brushing over the button.