Page 112 of Unholy Obsession

Her face lights up, and it’s—ugh. It’s sickeningly beautiful. No wonder she’s glowing like some kind of Earth Mother goddess with anactual futurestretched out before her. And because I am agoodfriend, asupportivefriend, I do what I do best—I lean in.

“Okay, tell me everything,” I demand, popping a fry into my mouth. I chew like I actually have an appetite, even though my stomach is currently a sinkhole. “Isaak as a dad? Oh mygod, can you imagine? I bet he’s been, like,secretly nesting.”

Kira laughs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh, absolutely. You should’ve seen him when I got sick the first time. Full-on panic mode. Started researching morning sickness remedies at three a.m., woke me up just to tell me about ginger chews.”

I nod, nod, nod. Laugh in all the right places. React with all the rightoohsandawwsandoh my gods. I ask the right questions. I keep the spotlightfirmlyon her because I cannot, under any circumstances, let it turn back to me.

Because inside? Inside, I am spiraling.

Ababy.

That’s whatnormalpeople do, right? They meet someone, fall in love, and make little life decisions that build into something bigger. Something real. Something that lasts.

Bane and I… we didn’t do that. We got married so he wouldn’t get fired.

He says he loves me, but…

But does he wantthis?

Could I even give himthis?

Would I even want to? I can’t even keep a fucking houseplant alive, let alone a human being. Sometimes, I can barely getmyselfout of bed. But what if…?

I shake it off, shake it all off, and force another smile. Bigger. Brighter. No cracks allowed.

“And have you picked a name yet? Because if it’s something boring like ‘John’ or ‘Emma,’ I’m legally obligated to riot.”

Kira laughs. The conversation moves on, but the pit in my stomach doesn’t go anywhere.

She invites me to a baby shower she’s having tonight, and of course, I agree to come. I missed the invite she sent in the mail because I hadn’t been at my apartment in forever.

Not that I’ve told anyone about marrying Bane and living at his place.

It’s just that I’ve been... happy.

That’s the whole problem. Happy is such a fragile thing.

If I tell anybody about it, I’ll jinx it.

I was going to tell Kira today but immediately abandoned the idea. Especially if I’ll be seeing everybody else later tonight. The day should be firmly focused on her and Isaak’s happy news.

So, I just keep nodding and smiling. Keep pretending.

Mid-spiral, I overcompensate. Hard. My words speed up, my hands fly everywhere, and my jokes? They’re notquitelanding. I don’t care. I just need to keep moving. Keep talking. Keep laughing.

“Okay, enough baby talk,” I announce, flagging down the waiter. “Tell me how Isaak is in bed now that you’re all domestic. Does he still act like a grumpy bodyguard, or is he finally letting loose?”

Kira just tilts her head at me. “Moira, are you okay?”

And I—who am absolutely definitelynotokay—grin. Too wide. Too sharp. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve got Bane now. Everything’s going totally great with me.”

Kira gives me a look. I hate that look. It’s herI’m a-budding-psychologist-and-I-see-youlook. The one that says she can hear the cracks even if I’m trying to fill them with noise.

So I double down. Laugh too loudly. Gulp the margarita I ordered with lunch. Doanythingto drown out the thoughts creeping in.

Kira folds her arms, watching me. “Moira?—”

“No, no, we’re talking aboutyoutoday, remember?” I wave dramatically at the air between us, my bracelet jingling too loudly. “The glowing, perfect mommy-to-be and her big, scary protector man. So tell me, does Isaak do that thing where he broods harder when he gets turned on? Or does he just grunt, flip you over, and get the job done?”

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