Page 65 of Afterglow

“You too,” I say, recognizing that Rebecca must get her calming nature from her mother.

She doesn’t appraise me or look first to my abdomen like I would expect but keeps her gaze on my face before moving it to Bryce’s, along with a hand to his cheek. Something passes between them that I can’t read, but both of their eyes go soft.

Alex brings my attention to him instead and I’m grateful for the distraction. His tan skin gives me the impression he spends most of his time outside, and his deep-cut smile lines tell me he wears that expression more often than not. He extends his hand for me, saying, “Alex.” I take it and the calluses on his palm scratch against mine. “We’re thrilled you could come to dinner.”

“I appreciate you having me,” I reply, not wanting to expound on the fact that it seems like it’s them offering me a great kindness.

Delia must have the motherly ability to hear what others are thinking because she says, “Nonsense, dear. As soon as Bryce told us, we near begged him to bring you over. I hope you’re hungry!”

My stomach grumbles at that exact moment and Bryce chuckles beside me—fully knowing I ate three slices of bread before we came over. I shoot him a glare, but it melts off my face at his relaxed smile.

“Starving,” I say, glancing around and taking in the kitchen for the first time. On the counter beside the range is bread and cheese and butter, and there’s a pot of something cooking over one of the burners. My head swings in Bryce’s direction.

“I didn’t want you to have to worry about getting sick. And Delia makes a mean grilled cheese. It might actually be better than the ones at Whiskey Ditch,” he says with a shrug.

With my nausea finally abating a few weeks after entering my second trimester, I’ve been able to expand my range of foods significantly, but I think I will continue craving grilled cheese. Fortunately, Bryce doesn’t seem to mind that it’s what I always ask for when he comes out to have dinner or to grab lunch with me.

I bite the inside of my cheek and sniff back the tears welling in my eyes, but when I look at this family all staring at me with welcoming smiles, one of them spills free. Dammit, these fucking hormones are killing me.

“Thank you,” I say, offering a watery smile. Bryce flexes his hand against my spine, and I feel it like a contraction on my heart too. He’s a good man—definitely too good for me—but I’m grateful this baby will have him as a father. “Can I help with anything?” I ask, swiping the tear away and trying to act normal.

“Definitely not,” Alex says, indicating a stool across from where he and Delia are moving around the kitchen again. “You two take a seat, and we’ll put Rebecca to work here.” He shoots his daughter a wink and she rolls her eyes playfully before reaching for a second block of cheese out of the fridge.

“You’re eighteen weeks along now, right? How are you feeling?” Delia asks, and I’m so grateful for the way she jumps right in without any awkwardness. It makes me want to hug her again.

“Really good. The nausea was terrible early on, but it’s so much better now.”

“I remember being so sick when I was pregnant. It was awful,” Delia says, reaching across her husband for the bread. “I’m glad you’ve gotten past that. Are you feeling the baby move yet? That was always my favorite part.”

I glance sideways at Bryce, the same nervous flicker dancing behind his pupils.

“Um, no, I haven’t,” I say, looking down at my stomach, wishing I could will the baby to move. It’s the one thing keeping me up at night now, not knowing that everything is okay.

Rebecca flits around the kitchen and between her parents with ease, but she clearly picks up on the tension brought on by the question.

“It’s perfectly normal, Leanne. We talked about this yesterday; it’s possible you have an anterior placenta keeping you from feeling anything yet, or maybe you have a very calm baby in there.” She laughs at the second part of her statement. “We’ll find out at your anatomy scan in a couple weeks and you’ll be able to see them moving then, even if you can’t feel it.”

I nod, only somewhat placated. I know I won’t be able to fully relax until I can feel him or her bouncing around in there all the time. A constant reminder that they’re okay.

The look that passes between Rebecca and Bryce holds the same encouragement she was giving me. Maybe he’s more nervous about this than he’s been letting on. Which would make sense, considering how often he asks me about it.

My heart stutters when my gaze lands on a copy of our first sonogram tacked to the fridge with a magnet that says Proud Grandma and Grandpa.

Bryce must follow my gaze because he reaches to squeeze my thigh under the counter. “They’re really excited.”

I swallow hard, tears gathering again, and this time I can’t stop them. I drag my stare away from the magnet and get lost in Bryce’s eyes. There’s so much emotion in their chocolate depths. He swipes a tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb, letting his other fingers rest below my ear on my neck.

Delia, Alex, and Rebecca graciously ignore us as if we aren’t having a moment only two feet away.

“Thank you,” I whisper, and settle my hand over his, turning my face to brush my lips against his palm. Part of me wants to touch him all the time, while the other rebels against it—woefully unprepared to want anything of the sort. The ease with which the first part overrules the other scares me just as much as not being able to feel our baby moving yet.

“Now!” Rebecca exclaims, and my head snaps up, effectively breaking the moment between Bryce and me. “Do you want to eat or open your presents first?”

She has her hands on her hips and a wide grin splitting her face. Tendrils of her dark hair have fallen out of the scrunchy holding it back to frame her face.

“Presents?” I ask, tentatively. Presents for who? Is it Bryce’s birthday or something?

“You guys didn’t need to get us anything,” he says with an almost bashful air, like even he’s embarrassed.