Page 77 of Beyond Oblivion

“We’ve gotten to this point, and it’s further than we’ve been before. That alone is worth celebrating. Maybe we just take it one win at a time?”

“I know, I just… I’m so conflicted and I need you to decide for me. I have been waiting to say the words to someone for so long, but I can’t help feeling like we’re tempting fate if we tell everyone too soon. What if we jinx it?”

I took her hand in mine, feeling the warmth of her skin, the pulse of life between our fingers, knowing there was an extra beat in there somewhere. “I get it.”

She closed her eyes for a second, as if trying to push the worry away. “So, we wait? Because, Trent… if we tell everyone and something happens, we’ll have to tell them that, too. And those looks I can’t stand, the ones that have made all of this so hard. This time they’ll be condolences on top of pity, and I can’t… I don’t know that I’ll survive it.”

I swallowed hard. Nothing terrified me more than when Camille talked like that. “Then we’re not telling anyone until there is little to no possibility of having to break that news. We’ll know when that is.”

Camille’s eyes opened, irritated and red from unshed tears. “But we can still be excited, Trent. I want us to talk about baby names and nursery themes and all the things I was too afraid to let myself think about before.”

I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Then let’s do that. In our own way, at our own pace. We keep him close, keep him safe.”

She placed her hand on her stomach again, looking down at her middle. “Him? What if she’s a her?”

I fell onto my back against the mattress. “God help the men of this world. I don’t know how my brothers do it.”

“You’ve been fine with Olive.”

“Oh, shit, Olive.” I sat up. “You think she’ll be happy? She was so worried about the Madison thing. You think she’ll feel replaced? What?” I asked, noticing Camille’s expression.

“Madison. I’d almost forgotten about her.”

I closed my eyes.Fuck. My. Life.“I was motivated to erase that threat before. I’ll nuke anything that even causes you a mild inconvenience, baby doll. You have absolutely zero to worry about. I promise.”

Camille’s fingers tightened around mine. “Do you think it’s too early to get a crib?” Her nose wrinkled and she tucked her chin, the corners of her mouth pulled back showing most of her teeth, silently pleading with me not to think the suggestion was as cringey as she did.

I winced, one eye closed tight. “Maybe just a little.”

She laughed out loud, from deep in her chest the way she used to when we were just dating. I’d almost forgotten the sound. “Baby steps. Literally.”

Camille leaned over to hug me, still laughing against my chest, and it felt like a victory. Small, maybe, but after everything we’d been through, any battle won felt like we’d won a war.

My cellphone pinged, the display lighting up to reveal Taylor’s name. I read the text, looking up at Camille. “He’s asking if you’re out of surgery. They have to be worried sick. I wouldn’t let them come so they’d focus on what they came here to do. Made everyone else stay home to watch the kids, and I fucking forgot to keep them updated.”

“Tell them my labs came back funky so we postponed, but it’s nothing serious.”

“They’ll want to come over and check on you.”

She shrugged. “Then let them.”

I texted him back, knowing he’d spread the word, and then shot a text to Camille’s family’s group chat. We’d have a house full within the hour.

“I texted the Camlin chat, too. I’d better set out some food or something.”

Camille shook her head. “We’ll be reheating casseroles for weeks.”

I blinked, then set down my phone. “True.”

Twenty minutes or so later, the soft knocking parade began. Camille’s mom was the first to show, making a beeline for the bedroom to nervously fuss over her daughter in typical Susan Camlin style. Then Taylor and Falyn arrived, herding their kids inside with Dad close behind, followed by Travis and Abby. Eventually, Camille’s brothers Chase and Clark trickled in with their wives, and Coby with his girlfriend, Holly.

Camille was spot-on with her predictions: four casseroles, two Tupperware tubs of sandwiches cut into dainty little triangles, and enough finger foods to supply a small army. If this family knew how to do one thing well, it was to show up with a feast at a moment’s notice.

They crowded into the bedroom, staring down at us while I sat next to Camille. She was trying her best to relax under the comforter, her knees propped by a pillow beneath. The way she was gripping my hand, I knew we were about to launch into the family briefing. Couldn’t really blame her for the nerves—giving updates on canceled surgeries and weird lab results was moreSNL cold openthan the heart-melting pregnancy announcement we’d imagined. But there we stood, front and center, getting eyeballed like zoo exhibits, bracing ourselves for the inevitable third degree.

Camille drew in a slow breath, her gaze dropping for a moment before she looked back up. “So, here’s the thing. The doctors saw something that wasn’t ideal for surgery in my labs. Just a few changes in my supplements, and I’ll need to gain some weight. It’s really not a big deal.”

Coby, always the first to jump on anything remotely concerning, crossed his arms and smirked. “Yeah, because canceling a surgery is the definition ofnothing to worry about.”

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