Page 47 of If Only You Hurt

“No–I,” he coughs, resting his hands on the top of his thighs, bending over, and trying to slow down his breathing. “I was actually driving into the city when you notified me. I was already more than halfway here. I was worried, so I may have asked for the driver to get here a little faster.”

I can’t help but smile. Even if he’s upset, he rushed here to make sure I was okay.

He looks up toward me, and the moment we lock eyes, my heart flutters.

I reach my hand out to him, hoping that he’ll come and grasp it. He walks into the room and immediately comes toward me, pulling me into his arms, completely disregarding my outstretched hand.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Bean. I’m sorry I wasn’t here, and I’m so incredibly sorry I went away for days without giving you the attention you deserve after everything you told me. I was stuck in my own head, in my own grief, forgetting that I did to you exactly what I was accusing you of. I love you.” He whispers this, at first in my ear, then moving to cup my cheeks, finishing off with a kiss to my lips.

The contact alone awakens something inside me, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. This man was put into my life before I understood anything about love and compassion. And through the years, my heart has become rooted within his soul. We are intertwined in a way that I assumed was part of friendship. He’s so much more, though. He’s a part of me that I feel deep in my bones.

I shake my head, having a hard time letting words come through as the lump in my throat is just sitting there. I take a few breaths, ready to spill everything, and let him know my heart is his.

“No, Grant, you needed space, and it’s the least I could do. I’m sorry it took me so long to let you in.”

A deep sigh pulls us out of our little bubble, only to realize we’ve had an audience of one this entire time. Becca has fresh tears streaming down her cheeks, her hand over her heart, looking at us like we’re actors in her favorite rom-com.

“Um, Becca, any chance you could give us a minute?” Grant says, and I can tell he’s annoyed his sister is still hovering over us while we have this moment together.

“No, not really.” She has a smile on her face, one which only looks like she’s got a secret that her brother isn’t privy to.

“Becca can’t go. She needs to do one more thing before she heads upstairs,” I tell Grant.

His head swivels toward me, and he has a look of confusion across his face.

“What do you mean?” His head swings back to his sister. “I thought you said she was okay in the last text message you sent?”

“I did. She will be.”

His voice rises with his next question. “What do you mean she will be?” He looks over at me. “What is it, Laney? Tell me, just tell me. Are you hurt? Oh my gosh, are you sick?”

I can see the fear etched in his features.

I smile because I don’t want him hurting.

“No, not at all. I’m going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.” I put my hand on my belly and let the moment register for him.

His eyes bounce from my face to my belly, back and forth, putting everything together.

“Oh my God! No way!”

Right when he realizes, his sister exclaims, “Fucking finally!”

Grant looks over at her, annoyed she’s still spectating this entire thing.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out. I thought you would have known by now. I mean, she’s been sick, peeing constantly; come on!”

Grant isn’t amused. His gaze comes back to me.

“You knew you were pregnant?” I can see the hurt in his expression, probably feeling like I left this out of my confession the other day on purpose.

“Nope. Had no clue. Becca was playing her own version of Pregnancy Clue all alone. I just found out before you got to the hospital and wanted to wait until you got here to tell you. I wanted to see the look on your face in person.”

I wait, watching him, seeing him process the information he’s been given.

I see a tear fall from his eye, and then he crumbles. He pulls me into a hug, kissing me all over my face, telling me he loves me, giving me all the words to soothe my soul now that he’s back with me.

“Are you happy? Are we going to be okay?” I can’t help the insecurity that comes out of me just then. I’m so worried my actions, or omissions really, may have damaged what we had.

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