Page 46 of Never Yours

Ingrid points to the other side of the gym, and they wave. I reply, “I should probably go see them. Rain check on the celebration?”

“I’m going to hold you to it.”

Ingrid and I head in the direction of Cass and Pop, and she asks under her breath, “Is it okay that I’m here? I didn’t get the call.”

I stop us in our tracks and turn her to face me. “You, Ingrid Lawrence, are my family. Just as much as they are, if not more. I don’t know why they didn’t call, but if I had any say in it, I would’ve called you first.”

“Cay…”

“Ingrid…” I mock, and she laughs. “I thought I was clear before I left.”

“It’s not that simple.” She looks down at our perfect child growing inside her. but I tilt her chin to look at me. “We have to start over.”

“I know.” I bring her close and kiss her temple; she hums in response. “It doesn’t change that I love both of you.”

Ingrid nods, and we continue toward Pop and Cass. As soon as the sea of people parts enough, Cass comes rushing to me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Cay, I swear to fuck if you screw things up with Ingrid…” I laugh, and she pinches my shoulder. “I’m serious. Don’t mess this up.”

Cass pulls back, and Pop brings me in for a tight hug. “I heard what you did. Good job, son.”

His clearance is high enough to know what I did out there. He’d never tell Cass or Ingrid, and the fact that he’s held onto this for months makes my stomach knot. To know your son was in the middle of nowhere fixing a ship that everyone thought had sank—if things had gone wrong, he’d know in the worst possible way.

I knew Pop wrote to my mother every day he was gone, but now that I have Ingrid and we’re expecting, it brings a whole other meaning. If I didn’t make it, Pitz would ensure Ingrid had my journal with her letters—the ones that showed Ingrid how much I loved her. The men who go back for years with their wives and children at home have always had my respect—but never as much as I have in this moment.

The few minutes greeting Pop and Cass were too many, my entire body aches to be near Ingrid, and I take her in my arms again. She clutches her belly and chuckles, “Cay, you’re home. You have a whole month with us.”

“It’s not enough,” I sigh.

“What do you say we grab a bite to eat and check in at the hotel?” Pop asks, clamping his hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah, okay,” I mutter, not letting Ingrid go.

“Cay,” she whispers, “it’s okay, we’re here.”

I take a deep breath and kiss her once before following Pop and Cass out of the gymnasium. A part of me has to be touching her, whether it be holding her hand, or guiding her down a narrow path. I can’t not touch her. Part of me is afraid I’ll wake up, and she’ll disappear.

The plane overhead is low enough that the building rumbles. I grab Ingrid and press her against the wall, shielding her from whatever might fall around us. “Son, it’s ok,” Pop assures me, holding both my shoulders.

I pull my head up to find Ingrid’s wide eyes searching mine. My breath is erratic, heart beating out of my fucking chest, my body feeling like it’s jumping out of its skin. This is what it felt like before I blacked out on the ship…

What the fuck is happening?

“What do you see?” Pop asks.

My eyes not leaving hers, it takes a moment before I reply, “Ingrid.”

“Good. What do you smell?”

I swallow hard and breathe in. “Home.”

He stifles a chuckle. “It’s the daffodils she planted right outside your porch, son. What do you hear?”

“You talking to me.”

“You’re doing great. What do you feel?”

Ingrid places my hand on her stomach, and our daughter kicks against it. A whimpered sob tears through me. “Our daughter.”

“Great job, Cay. Take ten deep breaths with me.” I do as he asks, and by the eighth breath, I no longer hear the creaking of the ship around us. “Five more.” I breathe in and out five more times, Ingrid keeping me present. “We’ll stay here all night if we need to. We’ll leave when you’re ready.”

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