Page 31 of Broken Halo

9

Rock Our World

Babies. Nothin’ makes us feel deeper than our precious little ones.

Ellie

Nine years and ten months ago

“You’re upset?”

I stare at Trig’s back as he stares out the window onto the grove of live oaks that pepper the property I grew up on. Every beautiful muscle I’ve come to obsess over is taut and on display through his thin, dirty, white T-shirt.

Of course, he’s upset. Why wouldn’t he be?

I mean, sure, this isn’t ideal. Some things will change.

Okay, fine. Everything will change.

I grasp at my resolve to keep the desperation out of my voice. “Trig?”

He exhales and pulls a hand through his overgrown hair and grips the back of his neck.

“Please,” I beg, my heart thumping so hard I bring my hand up to my chest and will it to calm. “Say something.”

He turns slowly and when he looks into my eyes, his are guarded and blank.

My tears start to form and my voice trembles. “I’m not unhappy.”

I know it’s a weird emotion. I’m not upset—there’s no way I could be—but I won’t allow myself to be happy. Not yet. Not until I know Trig is not unhappy, too.

That same hand scrapes down his face before he nods once. “March ninth?”

My tears spill and I nod. We’re in the middle of June—we have about eight months. “I’m almost positive. Every website says so when I put in the date of my last period.”

He nods again but that’s it. He gives me nothing more.

I don’t know if it was a broken condom or one of those few times we thought we were being careful but weren’t, because when we’re together, everything else melts away. It doesn’t matter now and I don’t care.

Looking to the floor at his filthy boots, covered in dirt from the very land that’s been in my family for generations, the same land he works for my father, Trig contemplates … something.

What’s he thinking? Because I know for a fact that dirt is a reminder to him just how different we are, but to me, it’s what brought us together.

It’s my yin to his yang. He sees obstacles—every single one of them. All I see is us.

When he looks up, his light blue eyes are different. They’re not upset.

And I exhale because they’re not unhappy, either.

A ghost of a smile kisses his full lips and my fingers itch to touch him. “March ninth is gonna rock our world.”

I bring a hand up to my flat tummy. “It is.”

He loses the smile. “Love you, angel.”

I nod and he becomes blurry as my tears come heavy. “I know you do.”

He comes to me and I’m up, wrapped in arms that I love more than anything.

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