Page 81 of Mine to Worship

She places her hands on my chest. “Everything is going to be okay.”

I want to tell her to prove it. Instead, I sag under the weight of my troubles. She kisses me and says, “Be right back.”

She goes to the bathroom and I throw myself in bed, leaning my head back against the headboard. I drag a hand down my face, pondering if she would still think I am equipped to be a good father with the history of my family. My hands ball into fists at my side remembering the abuse I endured at Richard’s hands. Even if I took everything he holds dear, his money and power, it would not give me back what he took from me. I am nothing like him, I feel it inside my bones, every time I touch her stomach. I know I would do anything for this tiny little thing, this part of me and of the woman I love more than anything.

I’m in awe at the silent strength of Ellia, but I see the strain it leaves on her every time she comes from the bathroom. She’s been sick again, and I’ve noticed, even though she’s tried to hide it.

She comes to bed with shaky legs.

I gently pull her to my chest and caress her back. “Can I do something, anything?” Not being able to help her is the biggest fucking torture I’ve endured.

She shakes her head and cuddles to my side.

“I didn’t want you to worry. We knew I’d continue to get sick.”

“Yes, but don’t hide it from me. Let me feel like I am not completely useless.”

“Oh, Kian...,” she says, her voice thick with emotion, and her words resurrect my spirits like nothing else. “Your presence alone makes everything better.”

Chapter 29

Ellia

I can’t keep putting off the conversation with Kian. It’s dampening all of our progress. It’s time to stop holding on to the hurt. With an imaginary pat on my back, I cup his face and brush my nose against his.

“Tell me what hurts the most,” I say.

His eyes seek mine, and I encourage him with a nod.

“Walter is not my grandfather, he is my father.”

Everything stills. Only my heart pounds in my ears, and his pain engulfs us in a thick veil. I blink, confusion wrapping around my thought process.

“He had an affair, and here comes the bastard of the family.”

One bastard is enough in the family.

“I am listening, baby, go on. I am here.”

“Walter told me this a few months ago, and I have no fucking idea how to make peace with it. And you ask me why I freak out about our baby. My own father didn’t want his mistakes public. Instead, he sent me to be raised by his son who…” He gulps and curls his hands into fists.

“Kian,” I say, resting my hand on his. “You are not Walter, and you are not Richard. You are you, perfectly imperfect, kind, and loyal. I have no doubt you will shower our child with so much love. You need to hear him out.”

“I did.” He plays with a strand of my hair, lost in thought. My heart twitches in my chest at the pain mingled in the acceptance he exudes.

“No wonder my grandmother could never look at me. It’s one thing to know your husband cheats on you, but to see his mistake…”

I grip his hands and squeeze them.

“Listen to me, you were not a mistake. My life would be pretty lonely and dull without you in it.”

“No one wanted me. Maybe they knew something that I don’t.”

The hurt masquerading as self-deprecation tears me apart. I place my palms on each cheek and kiss him, pouring all my love into him.

“Stop saying that. I want you, we want you. You have people who love you and are at your side. You have every reason to be hurt, but don’t be ungrateful.”

“You know how to cheer me up, don’t you, angel?” he says, smiling.

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