Page 89 of Agony of Our Regret

“Then we’re done up here. We already double-checked that the attic is clear.” Sky started down the stairs.

It should be after the initial clean-out I’d done in high school. One less thing to worry about now.

“Thanks for the help, guys,” Sky teased, as he walked into the living room.

I laughed and followed him, rubbing my belly and stretching my back as much as I could. “Yeah, at least I had him to help me move the dressers into the hall.”

“You didn’t!” Vince nearly jumped up.

“Holy shit,” Noah’s words silenced everyone.

“What?” Luca demanded.

Noah pointed at me. “This is it. My first vision of you.”

I looked around. Behind me was the stained-glass window. The only identifier he’d had at the time. I grinned and winked. “Told you that you’d all be here too.”

He finally cracked a smile. “Yeah, you did.”

“This was it?” Gavin asked, staring at me as taking in every detail would allow him to see it too.

“Yeah.” Noah grinned, lighting up his eyes. “I’ve waited years for this.”

Doubt, weight, anticipation. Something subtle disappeared from him as it sank in. The future he was so fearful of missing out on was right here.

NINETEEN

“I’m here!”

Vince’s voice drew me out of my bedroom. He strode in and set three pizza boxes on the kitchen counter.

“Hi.” I kissed him before taking in the food. “What’s going on?”

I left the office at lunch to get a manicure with Tessa and decided to finish the day out from home. We were so close by, and my feet were swelling. I’d been propped up on my bed until I heard the door open.

“I’m not sure. Luca texted me to grab dinner and meet them here.”

I peeked into the top box and closed my eyes as I inhaled the savory aroma of peppers and sausage and let out a moan. “This is perfection.”

“I’m glad it sounds good. You’ve been so hit or miss lately.”

I grabbed a Ginger Ale from the fridge and waved the can. “This has been a lifesaver. I can’t remember having food aversions growing up, but now even foods I know I like can set me off.”

Another perk of my third trimester. What tasted amazing one day would make me gag the next.

“What’s baby Lemon at this week?” he asked, coming behind me and placing his hands on my ever-growing belly.

“Cantaloupe,” I groaned. “It’s getting scarier and scarier now.”

He dropped his chin to my shoulder. “Don’t listen to Momma. You keep growing big and strong.”

“Or come sooner,” I added quickly. “You’re perfectly safe to come in a week or two.”

It was pushing things, but from all my internet research, which my doctor and the guys warned me to avoid, the baby could be born that early with minimal risk. It was easy for them to tell the baby to stay in as long as possible. They weren’t walking around with a large melon attached to their stomach, kicking their ribs, and bouncing on their bladders.

“Give Daddy a little more time,” he rubbed gently. A fluttering started, and he gasped. “What was that?”

I pushed my hands over his as the feeling intensified. “You can feel it?”

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