Page 215 of His Pretty Little Duet

Smiling sadly, I look back at her name. It cost extra for more letters. So, I only put her name. Not ‘beloved mum or friend or… whatever.’ Just her name.

“I know it’s been a while.” I pull my hair over my shoulder and play with the ends at my waist. “But then, we spent solittle time together when you were alive; it doesn’t seem that strange. I didn’t really miss you—” I’m suddenly choked on that redundant lie as it moves to the back of my throat, forcing me to swallow around it. “I do miss you,” I admit aloud and to myself. “It’s just easier to miss you now because I missed you so fucking much when you were alive. I miss youlessnow because I don’t expect you… but Idostill miss you.”

Suddenly, Clay sits down behind me. He pulls me back to rest my spine on his hard, packed torso, with his long muscular legs bracketing mine. He’s processing today, and I understand. He’s still present, though, and he’s making sure I know it.

“I’m pregnant,” I say to the plate and the patchy grass, and Clay’s heart thumps faster behind me. “The happy kind, though, Mum. Not the mistake kind.”

I lean further into him, rolling my head along his hard chest. “Sir?” I muse, and he hums in response. “I think… you didn’t know your mum very well”—I twirl my hair around my finger— “and I can relate. But we shouldn’t lie anymore. I miss my mum. I missed her when she was alive, and I miss her now. And I think that you should ask questions this time. That you should find the truth and not let the lies keep everyone apart.”

He hums. “Are you taking care of me now, sweet girl?”

I smile at that. “Yes, because you’re letting me, Sir.”

“Thistruth is dangerous, little deer. There is no good that can come from?—”

“I thinkyour brothers need you to do this. I think, they need you to be their protector now. It’s not too late.”

“What would you suggest?”

I swallow and whisper, “Make her liable. I wish I could make mine see what she did, understand it. She killed herself and left me to the system. Shewasnever liable for me, alive or not. And now shewillnever be liable for me. Make sure your mum is.”

“I have my father to consider.”

“It will destroy your brothers if you ignore what happened today.”

“I don’t plan on ignoring it, sweet girl.”

“End the secrets, Sir. If they have to continue to live with this secret. They may look like big, strong men now, but inside they are still letting her hurt them.”

“They’re still protecting her.”

“Yeah, but who is protecting them?”

He exhales hard.

As he contemplates, moments move between us with the breeze and the stale Stormy River air.

Finally, Clay says, “My pretty little queen.” He leans down and runs his nose against the curve of my neck, breathing me in hard. “Strong and confident and full of opinions. Using her voice.”

Beaming at my mother’s grave, accepting her ideals and my own inner strength, at peace withme, I cuddle my middle, cradling my stomach. “Because ofyourbaby in my belly, Sir.”

“No, sweet girl.” His arms sweep over mine to mirror my position. My heart expands in my ribcage, hope streams through my veins, and our future grows in my womb. “Yourpower has nothing to do with me, little deer.”

Clay

Staringat her through the glass French doors, I’m tense with the small distance between us. Knowing the profound things taking part inside of her, knowing whatIput inside her, my responsibility, draws me to her like gravity. My pretty little queen. My child.

Mine.

I loved her first.

And I’ll worship what she gives me.

Everything my father said to me is true; missing her swell, becoming a mother, raising our children, would be the worst kind of suffering.

And her mother missed everything. Her whole young life. She left her alone. To survive.

I won’t do that—can’t even bear the thought of her alone and huddled in our bed with a swollen stomach.

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