“I love it when you smile, but this is not your happy smile,” she says, and her finger smoothes between my brows.
“I remembered how your painting kept me going.”
Ask me anything you want to know, I urge Ellia with an intent look, but she keeps her mouth shut.
One day, she’ll believe in my love and me again.
Until then I’ll battle, struggling to win over the fear of losing her.
Chapter 19
Ellia
With our hands intertwined, we go for a walk, and I raise my face to the sky, soaking in the sun. Something shifted between us after last night.
“It’s beautiful. We came in the winter, and now it’s summer. Two more seasons to go,” I say and turn my gaze to him.
His jaw is set in a hard line and he is staring in the distance.
“Kian?” I lock my hands around his upper arm.
He cocks his head to me and says, “I am sorry, I was somewhere else.”
“Where?”
He runs his hand through his hair, his shoulders tensing up, his brows furrowing. Despondency covers his features. “When this is over, will you go back to Utah?” he asks.
“Where is this coming from?”
“He walked with you when you didn’t want me there.” His shoulders sag and he pushes his hands in his pockets. Vulnerability replaces the hard edges.
“Kian…”
“You want honesty, here it is. I was thinking, if you weren’t pregnant with my child, would you be here with me or in Utah with him?” His chest heaves and I place my hands on it.
“But I am pregnant with your child. And I saw Austin as a friend and my doctor, nothing more,” I admit and his features relax.
Who would have thought we’d fix a jealousy outburst this smoothly? There is hope. Of course there is; where there is love, hope will always follow.
“I am pregnant and you’re emotional. We make quite a pair.”
He chuckles and he tucks me to his side. His scent, his nearness ground me.
“I read that men gain weight too when their women are pregnant. I’ll miss the eight-pack,” I say and palm the hard ridges of his stomach.
“Will you now?” he teases me, the playful side making an appearance.
“It would only be fair, when I resemble a whale.” I scrunch up my nose, and he kisses the tip of it.
“But you’ll be the cutest whale ever.”
I smack him on his arm, and pout. “Not funny.”
“I should lift more weights, just in case.”
Another playful smack, and his grin is infectious. “You earned yourself a night of self-love,” I say, lacking conviction.
He raises a brow, curiosity dancing at the corners of his mouth. “Me time? And what will you do?”