My voice came out raw. “And then?”
She closed her eyes.
That was the second answer.
After a long moment, she said, “Then I was afraid.”
“Of me?”
“Of losing him.” She kissed the baby’s hair and looked ashamed before she even finished the sentence. “Of losing the baby. Of admitting what I had done. Of becoming the person I already knew I was.”
Connor laughed under his breath. “Listen to yourself. You sound ridiculous.”
She looked at him then, and something in her face changed.
Not dramatically. Not with a speech. Just a small, weary shift, like a door unlocking after years of pressure.
“No,” she said. “I sound like someone who is finally telling the truth.”
Connor stared at her.
I had seen him angry before. I had seen his charm sour, his patience evaporate, his affection turn conditional. But I had rarely seen him speechless.
