Page 82 of Little Did You Know

"Whiskey?" Anthony stepped up beside me.

My gaze flicked to Anthony and then down to the glass of brown liquid in his hand. "Thanks." I took the glass, swirling the liquor around. Anthony and his wife flew in from Barbados for Olivia's baby shower this weekend.

"How's Olivia been?"

"She has her bad days, but the good definitely outweighed the bad lately. She rarely has nightmares anymore, but when she does, they are pretty severe."

"Did the new therapist help?" When we got back to Florida, I decided that I needed to see Kat more often. I had my own issues to work through, and for a while, Olivia and I went together until she was comfortable enough to find her own therapist.

I nodded. "Yes, and Olivia really likes her." I sipped the whiskey, wincing as the harsh liquor went down. "She still only remembers in her nightmares, though."

"Is she still running excessively?"

I huffed out a laugh. "The extra twenty pounds has thankfully slowed her down, but she doesn't seem to need it much lately."

"And how about you?" He smirked. "You ready to be a dad?"

I shook my head, and the corners of my lips curled into a grin. "No, I'm scared shitless." My gaze flicked down to the glass in my hand. "I feel like I screwed up with Olivia and the whole Emmett situation, and I don't want to screw up my daughter too." My gaze flashed up to meet his.

"You didn't screw up anything, Nick," Anthony sighed. "Life, love, and parenting don't come with manuals. You did what you thought was right at the time, and you saved Olivia's life. Maybe we should have been honest, but hindsight is 20/20. You live, and you learn." I nodded as my gaze shifted out into the distance. "Have you been honest with Olivia about digging into the murder of her parents and Emmett's past?"

I nodded. "Everything has led to a dead end, but honestly, if I found out it was Emmett, it would kill me to tell her that."

He nodded. "She deserves that closure."

"I know."

"And so do you."

"I need that closure," I corrected him. "I need to make sense of everything."

"Don't let that darkness consume your life, Nick." Anthony's words hung in the humid night air. "You have a beautiful wife and home, and you're about to be a father. Leave the past in the past and move forward with your beautiful family."

I nodded, sucking in a deep breath that tasted of chlorine and summer jasmine. The words made sense, but letting go had never been my strong suit.

"Nick!" Hannah's voice shattered the quiet. Something in her tone made my stomach drop before my brain even processed the words that followed: "Olivia's water broke."

The whiskey glass slipped from my hand, shattering on the concrete. My feet were already moving.

"Fuck," I muttered.

"It's baby time," Hannah cheered.

"Fuck," I mumbled again.

Anthony laughed. "Come on, man. It's time to have a baby."

I found Olivia in our bedroom, one hand braced against the dresser, the other cradling her belly. Her eyes met mine, wide but steady. "I'm okay." Her knuckles were white against the dark wood. "But I think your daughter is done waiting."

The drive to the hospital stretched like taffy, each red light an eternity. Olivia gripped my hand through the first major contraction, her breathing exercises dissolving into a string of creative cursing. I'd never loved her more.

The labor and delivery floor was a maze of identical corridors, the fluorescent lights harsh after the darkness of home. Hours bled together in a loop of ice chips, monitors beeping, and Olivia's increasingly colorful threats about what she'd do to me if I ever suggested having another baby.

When the doctor finally announced it was time to push, exhaustion had scraped us both raw. Olivia's hair was plastered to her face, and my hand had long since gone numb in her grip. But then something shifted in the room—a new energy, a current of anticipation.

"One more big push," the doctor said, and Olivia bore down with a strength that still amazes me.

A cry pierced the air—high and angry and perfect. The sound rewrote everything I thought I knew about myself. The nurse in purple scrubs placed six pounds, nine ounces of screaming, squirming life in my arms, and the world tilted on its axis.

She was impossibly small, her skin still blotchy and her dark hair matted against her head. But when she gripped my finger with her entire tiny fist, the grip of the past finally began to loosen. All the anger and regret I'd been carrying couldn't compete with this new gravity.

For the first time since the murder, I felt the weight of guilt begin to lift. Not because I deserved it, but because this little person deserved a father who could look forward instead of back.

My eyes found Olivia's, and the love I saw there mirrored my own transformation. "I love you," I mouthed, carefully lowering our daughter—Emersyn Nicole Pearson—into her waiting arms.

"I love you too," Olivia whispered, and as I pressed a kiss to her forehead, I knew Anthony had been right. The past would always be there, but it no longer had to define us. We had each other. We had this moment. We had tomorrow.

---