Page 137 of My Vows Are Sealed

“I’ll be fine. I promise,” I sighed. “There’s nothing you could be doing here. And my mom’s going to come hang out with me this afternoon anyway. I think we need some mother-daughter time.”

“Okay,” he said hesitantly, bending down to give me a kiss. “I’ve got my phone on. Call if you need me.”

“Okay. But I’ll be fine,” I repeated. “I love you.”

That earned me another kiss, and I could hear him choking back tears as he slipped his tongue out to trace the seam of my lips. I eagerly let him deepen it, wishing so much that I could give him more than this. After everything we’d both been through, we desperately needed to reconnect, but until I healed a little more, reconnecting in the way we both needed to was impossible.

“Text me when your mom gets here,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

“I will,” I promised.

* * *

When I heard the knock on the door, my initial gut reaction was heart-stopping terror. Despite the pain, I struggled to catch a breath and started trembling. I knew it was illogical. After everything they’d found at the church, plus my testimony and Ethan’s testimony – as well as the testimony of other people who had started to come forward with their own allegations of abuse – my father’s bail had been revoked. There was no possible way it could be him on the other side of that door. But Marie had warned me about this. She’d told me that there was nothing logical about anxiety and that it was completely normal after a trauma like I’d been through.

“Darla?” my mom called through the door.

I immediately relaxed and pushed through the pain as I stood up and walked over to let her in. As soon as I shut the door behind her, I just threw myself into her arms as a few tears leaked out of my eyes. She returned the hug, rubbing my back and running her fingers through my hair.

God, would I ever stop crying? I knew being irrationally emotional was normal during pregnancy, but this was ridiculous.

“You up for some lunch, sweetheart?” my mom murmured.

I nodded as I pulled back and looked at her, wiping my eyes. “Does the crying ever stop?”

She chuckled. “Nope. Not even after you have the baby. What did the doctor say?”

“They said it looks like I’m about eight weeks along and they want me to take it easy for a little while, but everything looks good, considering,” I sighed, sniffling. “Please tell me you didn’t plan on ordering pizza.”

She chuckled and brushed some of my hair off of my shoulder, a few tears filling her eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?”

“Take it up with the baby,” I said with a shrug. “She decided she didn’t like it.”

She smiled and picked a cooler that I just now noticed she’d brought in off the floor, heading toward the table. I started to go to the cupboards to grab plates, but I groaned as I tried to stand on my toes to reach them.

“I’ve got it, sweetheart,” she said quickly, putting a hand on my back. “Just tell me where everything is.”

“Plates and cups are in this cupboard. Silverware is in the drawer next to the stove,” I sighed in relief.

Walking back to the table, I pulled my phone out and sent Brendan a quick text to tell him my mom had gotten here. My mom walked back to the table with a couple of butter knives and plates, then proceeded to pull everything we needed to make sandwiches out of the cooler before opening a cold can of ginger ale and handing it to me.

“I know ginger ale’s not your favorite, but trust me, it helps with the nausea,” she said with a small smile. “I brought you some crystallized ginger too. It takes some getting used to, but I swore by it when I was pregnant with you.”

This was just awkward. I felt like my mom and I were just tiptoeing around the obvious conversation that we both knew we had to have: why I’d gotten pregnant before Brendan and I were married. It was like neither one of us wanted to bring it up, even though we both knew one of us had to.

“Thanks,” I mumbled as I reached for the soda with my left hand and took a sip.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Let me see your ring!”

I put my drink down and held out my hand. An ear-splitting grin spread across her face as she looked at my engagement ring and ran her finger over the diamonds.

“It’s perfect,” she sniffled.

“Yeah, it is,” I agreed with a smile.

“It’s so strange that you’re getting married and I don’t know anything about your relationship. You never got to tell me about any of your firsts.” Her voice broke as she sat down and started to spread mayonnaise on a piece of bread. “Your first kiss. Your first ‘I love you.’ I don’t even know how he proposed orwhenyou’re getting married.”

“We’re actually holding off on that for a few months,” I told her. “The original plan was to get married as soon as I turned eighteen, but that’s not as important now.” A lump rose in my throat, and I swallowed it down as I continued. “I don’t want to get married while I’m in so much pain that I won’t even be able to enjoy the ceremony or dance with Brendan during the reception. And Kate and Ash, who you met at the hospital, are moving to New York for college, and I can’t get married without them. They’re my best friends besides Naomi. So I asked Brendan if it was okay if we waited until their Christmas break so they can come back down here, and he said he doesn’t care when it happens as long as it’s before the baby’s born.”

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