Page 120 of Secrets That Bind Us
“You think I haven’t been?” I sniff, as tears roll down my cheeks and splash onto the floor.
He chuckles. “I know you have. That’s why when I say y’all are gonna be just fine, I mean it. You hear me? You’re gonna go up North and never come back. You understand?”
I nod, face still in my hands. “Thank you.”
And he knows exactly why I’m thanking him. “You’d do it for me.”
And he’s right. I would do it for him. Oh shit. “Jace, the pond–“
“Evan took care of it.” He assures me as I walk him to the door. “Used his daddy’s old tow truck and took it to Mackey's junk yard. It’s been crushed. Nothing to worry about at all.” He turns and makes eyes at the bed behind me, and I suck in a breath.
Because when he leaves, and I turn around, caramel eyes are wide open and locked on me. Her brows knit together. Her lips tremble behind her oxygen mask, and her heart monitor spikes.
“Baby…” While the door’s still open, I call out to the nurses and Doctor Devi to make them aware. But Verity doesn’t take her eyes off of me the entire time they work around her and on her. The doctor talks to her, and it’s only then that she takes her eyes off me to pay attention to what she’s saying to her.
Verity nods along, listening to it all. Brows rising when they tell her everything.
I stand at the foot of the bed the entire time.
Doctor Devi smiles down at Verity. “I want you to know that the baby is also doing very well.”
Verity’s honey eyes connect with mine again, and I give her a small smile. “Apparently you’re about seven weeks along.”
Our doctor nods. “That’s what your HCG levels show. We had a sonographer come by yesterday to check out the heartbeat. It is small, but very strong. They’ll be by later again today, if you’re up for it?”
Verity nods enthusiastically.
“Perfect. I’ll let them know. For now, your vitals look good. We don’t want you to walk around just yet. But we do have you on averylow morphine drip, so I’m sure you’re feeling a lot of discomfort.”
When she opens her mouth to talk, it’s low and raspy due to the smoke inhalation. “No, I mean, I’d like to not have morphine at all. So if we can make it lower, that’s fine.”
Doctor Devi inclines her chin and starts heading out. “I’ll start to lower the dosage. For now, rest. We’ll try liquids today, solids tomorrow, and come up with a new plan. It’s going to be a good road to recovery, Miss Huntington.” She leaves, and we’re alone again.
Whiskey eyes lift to mine, and even though I know she’s angry, I’m so fucking happy just to see them again. She moves her hands to her stomach as if protecting our child already, the engagement ring on her finger glinting in the light of the room. My heart warms at both the sight and knowing we created something wonderful together again. “You sworehonestyto me.Youput this ring onmyfinger and youpromisedme that.”
I can tell she’s doing her best not to scream at me even though I deserve it. “I did.”
She takes in as deep a breath as she can. “Start talking and leave absolutely nothing out, Dean.”
I sit on the edge of her bed by her feet and nod. “Okay.”
Chapter Forty-six
Dean
Age: Twenty-Three
“Dean, honey?”
Mama Marie’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts as I stare down at my screen. The screen I've been blinking at for the past– whoever knows how long. Specifically, the new six second video Zoey just posted to her social media I’ve been replaying. It’s the only way I get glimpses of Verity– unless it’s at a book signing I’m too chicken-shit to enter, or she’s doing an interview on a podcast on YouTube. In the video I’m staring at is a child about five years old.
Withmyblue eyes.
I look up from my phone to the woman who’s helped me fill out college paperwork, let me stay in her home while I went to school and then the academy, and let me love her daughter. The woman who I helped hide a body with. I rise to my feet from the rocker on the back porch. It’s late Sunday afternoon, and I’ve been having Sunday night dinners with Marie since I’ve been able to drive again– so about the last four years of my life. I have never missed a Sunday dinner with Marie unless it was under extreme circumstances– like when I went to New York to find Verity. I stare at the woman who has to use a cane now to walk. Who’s aged before my very eyes. The woman who has treated me more like a son than my own parents.
My voice shakes when I ask, “Marie, is Verity’s child mine?”
She blinks rapidly, rolling her lips inward then rolling them out in a frown, and guilt etches across every square inch of her wrinkling face. Then,ever so slowly… she nods. “The second that child opened her eyes, I knew she was yours.”
