Page 99 of The Liar's Reckoning

I sigh heavily and look directly into the lens. “I said I love you, Silas.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” He smiles softly. “Should I believe it?”

I cut off the flow of water and remove my phone from the mount. All I see is his face now, and all he can see is mine. “Please. Yes. Believe it.”

He presses his lips together and narrows his gaze, like he’s trying to translate another language. “What took you so long?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like it’s new.”

“No?”

“Why so shy about it, then, puppy?”

I groan dramatically. “Do we have to analyze this? It was almost romantic for a second.”

“It’s very romantic,” he agrees as I step out of the shower and grab a towel to dry off. “I just have questions.”

“Can you save them? I need to call Avery back.”

“I’ll text you. Maybe you’ll be nicer in writing.”

“I’m not trying to be?—”

“I love you, too, Graham. Good night.”

He hangs up before I have a chance to say anything else. I groan again, louder, frustrated with both of us. The reason I haven’t said it before is because he always beats me to it, and I don’t want to say it like a call and response. So maybe this was the best way to do it. I wanted to tell him the night I told him Avery was pregnant, but the timing felt off.

After we never left the couch, the sex we had was slow, sensual, full of kisses and whispers. We made love, and he burrowed so deep into my heart, I know I’ll never get him out. I felt every moment of it like a revolution transforming me. No secrets or lies between us, nothing but our naked bodies—our raw hearts beating powerfully together as he rode me and licked me and begged for more. We lasted close to an hour. It was epic. Beautiful. I said it a million ways, except out loud.

I dwell on the memory of that night as I pull on clean boxer briefs, sweats, and a t-shirt.

Before I have a chance to call her, my phone rings again. “Hey,” I tell her. “I was just about to call you back.”

“Graham…I think something’s wrong.”

Avery’s voice is shaky. She barely sounds like herself. I’m immediately nauseated. “Babe, what is it?”

“I’m like…leaking? I think?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t think I’m peeing on myself.”

I shut my eyes and try not to snap. She’s not making sense, and I desperately need her to. “Avery. What’s happening?”

She bursts into tears. “I think my water broke.”

“Oh, Jesus.”

Still in the bathroom, I sink to my knees, my legs finally giving out, and also—this is how we pray. She’s crying, holding nothing back, so I don’t need to ask if she’s sure, but I still do.

She manages a tremulous yes.

“I’m calling my mom. She’ll take you to the hospital. I’m on my way.”

“I’m scared,” she says.

“Are you in pain?”

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