Dad looks relieved. “I wouldn’t want to impede on girl time.”

“Do you want something to eat before we head out?” Mom asks.

I haven’t had anything since the cupcake back in New York. “Peanut butter and jelly,” I say, wrinkling my nose.

She pats my back. “I’m glad Chicago hasn’t changed you too much.”

While she puts together my sandwich, I go out to the deck leaning against the railing. A cool summer breeze blows through my hair as I look out to the mature trees that fill the back yard and listen to the crickets.

I hear the patio door slide and turn around, watching Mom carry a plate and glass of milk to the table. “This should do it.”

“Is that your homemade bread?”

“Did you think I was going to make you something on store bought bread? Never.”

I kick my heels off and take a seat across from her. The first bite goes down easily and before I know it, it’s half gone. It’s a good thing my nausea wore off after lunch.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she finally asks after I down my glass of milk.

“You’re not going to like it.”

“Nothing you can say is going to make me love you any less. Remember that.” If I’m half the mom she is, my baby will be lucky.

“I’m pregnant.” My hands shake under the table as I wait for her reaction.

Her eyes widen as she takes a visible deep breath. “I guess I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend.”

This is the part that stings the most. “I don’t.”

Her elbows hit the table, hands framing her face.

I continue, “I met a guy after I moved there—Mallory’s older brother, actually. We’ve been seeing each other on and off.” I purposefully leave out Pierce. She doesn’t need to hear all that.

“Where are you now?”

“Off.”

“Oh, baby, your dad and I will help you with whatever it is you need. Have you been to the doctor yet?”

Shaking my head, I say, “Not yet. I was hoping I could get in with Dr. Phelps while I’m here.”

“We’ll give her a call in the morning.” She pauses. “Do you want to know a secret?”

“You have a secret?”

She holds up her index finger. “Just one.”

“Spill.”

“I got pregnant with you before I married your dad. Our parents put together a wedding in two weeks to try to make it look like you were a honeymoon baby.”

I’m not sure if she can see my eyes in the darkness, but they have to be at least double in size. “No freaking way.”

“Shocking, huh?”

“Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t have anyone for you to make me marry.”

She laughs. “I would never even suggest it. Besides, I love your dad so much, it would have happened at one time or another.”

More time passes. I finish the last of my sandwich as I enjoy the quiet serenity.

“Can we wait a couple days to tell Dad? I want to go to the doctor and all that before I tell anyone else.”

“What do you want me to tell him?”

I shrug. “Just tell him I needed a break. There’s no lie in that.”

“True. You look exhausted. Why don’t you head to bed, and we can talk more in the morning. I’ll even make you waffles with strawberries if you want.”

“Let’s try dry toast. The last couple mornings have been a little rough.”

“I had the same thing with you. It will be over soon, hopefully.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I say as she picks up my dishes.

“For what?”

“For not making me feel any worse than I already do. Loneliness is the worst feeling, and I was scared how you would react,” I admit.

“If there is one thing I never want you to forget, it’s that I’ll always be there. Always. Don’t you ever question that.”

I follow her in the kitchen, waiting for her to set the dishes in the sink before wrapping my arms tightly around her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now get some sleep.”

It’s been months since I’ve been in my old room, and it hasn’t changed one bit. It has the same white four-poster bed. Same white comforter and pale yellow walls. After pulling on one of my old sleep shirts, I find a toothbrush and everything else I need in my bathroom. Within minutes, I’m tucked under the covers and drifting off to sleep.

I hear pounding, but ignore it, tossing to my other side. Dad’s always had this thing about getting up before the sun rises and tinkering in the garage.

Two more pounds then it stops. I drift off yet again.

A hand rests on my hip, shaking me carefully. “Lila! Lila!” My dad yells—at least it sounds like he’s yelling.

I rub my eyes and look to the alarm clock. It’s only 4:15. “What is it?”

“There’s a guy here to see you. I told him to get his ass out of here, but he won’t listen.”

“Who?” I ask, sitting up.

“I don’t know. Do you want to come down and see or should I tell him to get the hell off my property?” he asks. My dad has always been my shield.

“I’ll go, Daddy. Why don’t you go back to bed?” It can only be one of two men; I can handle both.

He lifts his finger. I can barely see him in the darkness. “I’m coming with you until I know you’re okay. This guy looks a little worse for wear.”

Without another word, I follow him down the steps to the foyer. His back is to me, but I know it’s him right away. “Blake,” I whisper, trying not to make him jump.

He spins around immediately. His hair is mussed. His shirt is wrinkled. And I’ve seen those circles around his eyes before; he hasn’t slept in a couple days.

“You can go to bed now, Daddy.”

“You sure?” he whispers near my ear.

I nod, never taking my eyes off Blake.

“If you need anything, come get me,” he says before he walks back up the stairs.

Blake walks toward me slowly. His hands come up when he’s close enough to touch me, but they fall back down to his sides. “I need to talk to you.”

“How did you get here?”

“I drove.”

“When was the last time you slept?”

He buries his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t remember.”

Even with the anger and frustration I have with him, my heart easily overrides it all … for now anyway. When you know what I know about him—his past and how great he can be—it puts the negatives through a heavy strain. Especially when I see him like this.

I take his hand in mine. He responds, his whole face relaxing. I could throw him a pillow and show him the couch, but I lead him to my room, closing the door tightly behind us.

“Do you need something to sleep in?” I ask, shuffling things around in my drawer. Derek left his things here a time or two.

I look back when he doesn’t answer, and he’s already stripped down to his boxer briefs. “I’m good.”

“There’s an extra toothbrush in the bathroom,” I say pointing toward it.

He comes to me like a lion on the prowl, holding my face in his hands. “I need to talk to you. Everything else can wait until later.”

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. “Can we at least lay in the bed? I’m so tired.”

His grip on me loosens, and he takes my hand to lead me to the bed. I crawl into one side. He takes the other. I lie on my back. He towers over me, holding his head up. “Why didn’t you come home?” he asks.

“I’m tired of you running. I’m not doing this anymore.”

“Who ran this time?” he asks.

“It’s not running if I don’t have anything to run from.”

“You have me,” he answers, brushing the pad of his thumb across my cheek.

“I’ve never had you, Blake. You come and go … you never stay long enough for me to consider you mine.” My voice reflects the sadness my heart feels. It’s hard when you love someone, but you don’t feel it back.

His hand lays flat on my stomach, and my whole body tenses. “When you said you were pregnant the other night, I panicked. I shouldn’t have left, but I didn’t know what else to do. I’m so used to being alone that sometimes that’s the only way I know how to be.”