Page 74 of Stone Vows

She shrugs and turns around to leave.

When I look at Elizabeth, there are tears running down her cheeks. And tension tightens the delicate features of her face. I reach out for her, but she pulls away.

“I’m sorry,” I say, not knowing if I should be mad at Gina or myself. “I should have told you. But I didn’t want you to think I saw you as a charity case, because that is not what this is about.”

“Whatisthis about, Kyle?”

The door opens again and Baylor, Skylar and Piper walk in with flowers and food.

Elizabeth quickly wipes her face and pastes on a smile as she greets them.

I get up off the bed. “I’m glad you guys are here,” I tell them. “I’ve got to wrap up a few cases before my shift is over.”

I hug the three of them and then turn back to Elizabeth. “I’ll come back later? To say goodnight?”

She shakes her head softly. “No, that’s okay. You’ve had a long shift,” she says. “After dinner with these guys, I’m going to be pretty tired. I’ll just see you tomorrow, okay?”

I want to argue, but not in front of everyone. She’s pissed. And we didn’t get a chance to talk it out. Maybe it’s better to let her sleep on it. Everything will be okay tomorrow. When she comes to my place, everything will be alright. I’ll make sure of it.

Then I get an idea. I pull Baylor aside and tell her my plan.

Chapter Thirty-three

Heading to the hospital this afternoon, I can’t help my smile when I pass by young families walking their kids to school. Or pushing a baby in a stroller. Or stopping to get a breakfast burrito from a street vendor.

I try to imagine what it’ll be like for us one day. If she decides to live with me, that is.

I spent hours this morning trying to make everything perfect so Elizabeth will have no choice but to agree to stay with me. Gavin and I moved all the stuff from his and Baylor’s garage into my spare room. There is a crib, a changing table, and one of those gliding chairs.

On one side of the room, I put a futon that could be used as a bed for Elizabeth if she’s uncomfortable sleeping in mine. I didn’t want to presume. After all, we’ve only just kissed. And we have never talked about us having a relationship. But the looks, the banter, the way we are with each other—they all seem to confirm what neither of us has come out and said.

I know she might still be upset with me. When I talked to Baylor late last night, she told me she could sense something was wrong. Elizabeth gave Baylor the tablet back, insisting she wouldn’t have time to use it with the baby. Baylor wrote it off as post-partum depression. Maybe that’s part of it, but deep down, I know I’m the cause of Elizabeth’s sadness.

I just hope after she sees everything I’ve done, she’ll realize how serious I am. She’s not a charity case. I would never look at her as such.

I stop in the residents’ lounge to grab the bottle of champagne from the refrigerator. I carry it, two plastic champagne glasses, and a giant stuffed bear with a large pink bow around its neck up the elevator to floor seven.

People look at me and smile.

“Congratulations,” one of the elevator passengers says.

“It’s a girl, huh?” asks another.

“Thank you. Yes, it’s a girl.”

I don’t tell them it’s not my baby. Hell, I practically feel like she’s mine anyway. I delivered her. I’ve held her, burped her, rocked her to sleep. I’m already in love with her and I don’t even know her. I laugh to myself. Because I could say the very same thing about her mother.

I can’t wait to bring them home with me.

I smile at how my whole world is about to change. How it changed a month ago, when Elizabeth first walked into the ER.

As I make my way down the long hallway, something feels off. Nurses are looking at me oddly as I pass their station. I quicken my steps to get to Elizabeth’s room, but when I arrive, everything’s wrong.

There is no bassinet. No stroller in the corner. No balloons or flowers. No collection of Chinese proverbs on the side table.

No Elizabeth.

An orderly excuses himself around me with a bucket of water and a mop.

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