Page 81 of Promise Me This

“Like what?”

I press my lips together and squint at her as I consider the endless list of details I want to know. “Like what did you crave when you were pregnant with her?”

She laughs, and the sound is like music. “Takis and cherry Pepsi. Not at the same time.”

“But you hate spicy food!”

Leona rolls onto her back so she can stare at the ceiling, unseeing, and picture that time. “I know, but pregnancy makes you do crazy things.”

“What else?” I prop myself up with one arm, drinking in the vision of her naked body. “I want to know everything.”

“She loved when I would sing to her,” she muses, smiling softly. “Especially Christmas music. I wasn’t showing yet when I went home for Christmas that semester. Aside from the morning sickness, I didn’t even feel pregnant. But one night Momma and I were dancing together while ‘Rocking Around the Christmas Tree’ was playing, and that was the first time I felt her kick. Even after Christmas had come and gone, I kept singing carols to make her happy.”

I can see it so clearly in my mind that for a moment I don’t trust myself to speak for fear my voice will break.

She must notice the shift in my expression, because she turns to look at me. “Are you okay?”

I nod as my hand falls to brush her hair back from her forehead. “I just love you so much.”

Her eyes soften. “I never thought you’d be able to feel that for me again after everything that’s happened.”

“I don’t know how not to love you. It’s as natural to me as breathing.”

She stills beneath my touch. “I’m not the same person anymore, Callum. Losing the baby changed me. I had to grow up really, really quickly.” A tear trickles over the precipice of her eye. “I could never—will never—be that person again. She died with our daughter that day.”

I pull her to me and press my lips against her forehead. “I’d have you no differently.”

After a long moment she draws back abruptly with her eyes wide. “What will Niamh think?”

“She’ll think ‘Thank God, someone who finally knows how to do plaits.’”

We both erupt into laughter, and it’s the best kind of euphoria I’ve ever felt. Happiness after so much darkness. Pleasure after a decade of pain.

“Do you think your mom has already sold off my room?”

I glance at my imaginary watch, then drop my arm with a huff. “Doubt she’s even looked at it. Before you, those rooms would sit as long as she could get away with before she could be bothered to clean them. Luggage would be piling up in the foyer.”

She swats my chest. “Be nice to your mom. She only let my suitcase sit for half a day.” She pauses for a moment, then shoots upright. “Fuck, my suitcase!” She clambers out of bed and starts grabbing for her clothes while heat travels straight to her ears. “Oh God, do you think Podge has been waiting this whole time?”

Before I can answer, she’s jogging down the hallway toward the front door. I quickly step back into my pants and follow suit, finding her standing in the open doorway looking down at her luggage. No taxicab in sight.

Her hand finds her hips as she scans the horizon before turning to me. “How long do you think he waited?”

My phone buzzes from the back pocket where I left it. As soon as I unlock it and the message appears before me, I can’t help but laugh. “I think he was gone the moment we shut the door.”

“What?” Her eyebrows furrow as she turns to me. When she realizes I’m looking at my phone, she stretches onto her tiptoes to see what it is that I’m reading. I tilt the phone toward her so she can see.

Podge

Did you get the shift?

“Jesus, Podge,” she grumbles, eyes rolling. “What are we, teenagers?”

A snort rips out of me as I lock my phone. “Seems that way.” I step around her and hoist the suitcase over the threshold before shutting the door once more. Then I take a step toward her and encircle her waist. “Now, I believe I said I’d make it up to you for my quick performance.”

Her gaze cuts to me, eyes wide. “We just finished!”

“Still”—I cock my head—“I didn’t get to taste you.”

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