Page 35 of Odin
“Not all marriages are love matches. I think there’s been worse ones made. I think there still are. Situationships.” I want to make her feel better about this, but as usual, I’m clumsy about it.
“I know many people who are husband and wife and hate each other. You’re not wrong in that. It’s incredibly sad.”
“We don’t hate each other.”
“I will never hate you.” She promises it the same way she did up at the cabin. Like she’ll damn well move the universe if she has to, in order to keep her word. “You’re still pale. What am I doing hogging all your ice cream?” She passes it over and I eat a little bit just because she shouldn’t be worrying about me at all. “I should have planned this better. Taken you somewhere else to tell you.”
“You didn’t think I’d fall apart.”
“You didn’t. You did the opposite.”
It’s flattering that she thinks so. In her books, having a near panic attack and just about blacking out don’t count. Or maybe thatisthe best case scenario.
“We’ll get you a place and get everything sorted. I don’t want you to worry about anything.” I don’t know how we’ll do it, but I want to give her that certainty. Because no matter what it takes she’ll be taken care of. “I have my club brothers to go to when things get tough for me, or when I just need someone to talk to. I want you to know that any and all of the guys’ women would be happy to be your friend, or if you need to talk tosomeone about motherhood. Lots of the old ladies have kids, a couple are pregnant right now.”
Her eyes brim with tears that she tries valiantly to blink away, but then her lips start wobbling and they go sliding down her cheeks in twin slicks that make me want to punch myself in the face until she throws herself at me. I catch her up in a tight hug.
“Thanks,” she says wetly, and sniffles. “Thank you for this, Odin. I’ll always value having friends, but if I truly need to talk to someone, it’s going to be you.”
Fuck. “I’m just as likely to have zero answers as give you wise counsel.”
Her body vibrates, not with a sob, but with laughter. “Either way, I think you’re the kind of person who appreciates someone being able to open themselves up in the first place, to share their private thoughts. Putting them out into the world isn’t easy.”
No. No, it’s sure as hell not. She pulls back, but again, she keeps her hand on my knee. If only she knew how much her touch grounded me. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She brushes her cheeks with the back of her hand to clear away her tears.
I realize now that they weren’t sad ones.
“I’m okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not worried, but you’re growing a life. That’s a lot of change on top of… a lot of change.”
Her hand flexes on my knee and just for a second, there’s nothing but the purest joy on her face before she turns to the side to survey the park, and it’s gone. “Thank you for caring. Honestly. That means everything to me.”
The heat of her hand flows up my knee and pulses in my chest. I didn’t realize how cold I was. It’s not that I don’t let myself enjoy good things. I work hard, and I believe in hope to some extent, but I’ve never felt it like this. It’s all encompassing, and even when Willow stands and wraps her arms around herself, I can still feel the heat of her burning through me.
Hope is dangerous because once you’ve had a taste, you’re always going to want more, and getting that want for something good crushed to dust hurts like nothing else. I always try to moderate what I want out of life, opting for realism because I’m not a masochist. I did that shit for years and it wasn’t a good fit.
I know that I need to get myself under control and stop the insane surge of joy and hope that are flooding through me, filling me to the point where I’m so light that I could float away, but it’s hard.
Even if I have zero right to it, and I know how much it hurts to come crashing back, face first, to the ground.
“I’ll let you get back to work, if you’re sure you’re okay. I could drive you, if you’re not. Wherever you want to go.”
I scramble up. “I’m okay.” I grab the ice cream and start scooping it up, spooning it into my mouth so fast that my teeth ache and the brain freeze is real. “Do you have somewhere to go for the afternoon? I could take it off. Get you settled in. Will you stay at the club? I can get the okay from Tyrant again, for you to use the spare room, but you can have mine again, of course, because the spare one sucks ass on the boredom scale, and—”
Bright, cheerful laughter bubbles out of her and fills up the park. “Tarynn knew I was coming. I’m going to stay the next few days in the apartment above Crow’s shop. I just felt likethat would help everyone breathe. It’s not because I don’t like the club or your room. Your space isamazing. Tarynn is going to dye my hair this afternoon. For real. She left space for me so we could catch up, and then she’s going to take me over to the apartment. She was worried about it not being set up, but that’s okay. It’s just for a few days, while I look for something permanent.”
Willow isn’t just putting a good face on this. She’s determined that she’s going to be okay, and she’s the kind of person that once she’s decided something, that’s how it’s going to go for her, no matter how much bullshit happens.
She wants this baby.
She wants a life here.
She wants me in it.
As astounding as that is, I’ll do anything, move anything, force anything, work as hard as I have to, pullallthe strings to make it happen. For her.
And forourchild.
Chapter 12
