Page 41 of Heartless Vows

It’s been almost a decade, but her hug hasn’t changed at all.

I break. Ugly sobs. Tears. Snot. The whole shebang.

I don’t know how she does it, but she completely unravels me. It could be her naturally sweet and caring nature, her unfettered welcome, her lack of pity, or the understanding—from her own personal experience, at that—in her gaze, but the pillars holding me up crumble.

She pats my back and hugs me tighter, just like she did when we were kids. The firmness of her belly only breaks me further.

I pull myself together by sheer force of will. Too many emotions batter me, so I shove them into tiny compartments to decode later and wipe my tears, but I can’t force myself to leave Serenity’s arms.

Realization hits me. I know why her embrace means so much to me.

She’s the only person besides my aunt who ever hugged me.

Telling her so will only make me feel more pathetic—and reveal way too much about my predicament—but I need her to know how grateful I am. I can never repay her for these kind gestures.

After resting my forehead on her shoulder and soaking in as much of her as I can, storing her scent and the feel of her arms around me for later when I need encouragement, I fill my lungs and hold my breath until it hurts.

“Thank you, Serenity. A lot,” I say as I pull away.

She scoots the tissue box closer. I snag a few.

“Better?” she asks.

I nod.

“Then dig in.”

When she stabs her fork into the tub of spaghetti, I give her a wobbly smile and reach for what looks like spinach.

“Hey, if you’re on a diet, no, you aren’t.” She pulls the spinach out of reach. “These calories don’t count because they’re for the baby. Eat whatever you want, not what you think you should eat.”

I study the options.

“But thatiswhat I want. Truly,” I say when she gives me a skeptical look.

“You sure?”

I nod. She shrugs and passes it over.

“Careful, it’s spicy. Like, melt your mouth spicy. Nico ordered it from an authentic Thai restaurant, I think.”

“It smells amazing,” I say before I take a bite. It tastes more than amazing, so I go for seconds. As I scarf down half the container, I choose my next victim. Serenity gives a happy wiggle and picks a bite from almost every box.

When I reach for my next choice, Serenity offers to warm it up on the stove, but I shovel it in my mouth and shake my head.

After the horrendous amount of food Giorgio pushed down my throat not long ago, I shouldn’t be hungry, but a hole must have formed in the bottom of my stomach. I’ve never had much of an appetite, but I’ve also never had a chilled medium-rare steak before.

I pause mid-chew.

Fuck. Leafy green veggies. Red meat. Insatiable hunger.

My mother made sure I took my prescription this morning, but with the emotional upheaval, broken sleep, and mountains of stress heaped on top of my head recently, it’s possible I’m not absorbing the nutrients I need.

Serenity clears her throat and nudges the steak toward me.

“No judgment here, Aurora.”

“That’s not it. I just… our parents want us to make a pregnancy announcement in less than a year.”

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