Page 31 of When She Needs Them Most
My smile feels plastic, but I shake her hand. Her tone is light, and she has good energy. It’s clear she’s not being cruel, but her words rake against my self-doubt.
She’s right. I should have handled all of this by now. Just like Ishouldn’thave moved at nine months pregnant. If I was braver, I would have made such a stink that the Richmond police had no choice but to listen to me.
Lincoln wraps himself around my back, and his chin rests on my shoulder. “Exactly how fast can we get delivery if we pick out everything we need today?”
My heart races.
I don’t even have the bank card with me that accesses the account with Clark’s money. I have a few thousand in my checking account, because I transferred extra to cover the movers and all the utilities, but this is going to be expensive…
I can feel it.
Lincoln was right—Joyce is very sweet. She’s knowledgeable without being pushy and gives us plenty of time to browse without hovering. However, my hands shake with every price tag I check.
Shame comes quickly after the panic, because I would love to be able to provide Luna with the nicest things available, but the reality is, I’m about to be a single mom. I have to budget carefully for the time I’ll be out of work when I’m giving birth. I’ve also been told to prepare to be a lot less productive for six months or so while I adapt to working from home with a newborn.
Snagging one of the jackets in my size, I bolt for the changing rooms Joyce pointed out earlier. I close the door, click the latch, and fall on my ass on the bench, burying my face in my hands.
The pregnancy hormones are out of control, or I’m utterly losing my shit. And the worst part is, I’ve spent way too much time fantasizing about what it would be like to have support. To not have to do everything that has to be done on my own. To have someone to rely on when things get too stressful for my pathetic system. And I want to be strong enough to face motherhood alone, but I guess, at the end of the day, I’m just not.
I thought if I loved Luna enough, I could make it work, but I had to leave even the few friends and neighbors I had behind to get away from Emmett, and the reality is way scarier than I imagined. At least in Richmond, I had people I could call to help do something, like assemble the crib or drive me to the hospital.
Here, I’ve got no one.
And it feels a lot like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Eventually, Arden, Kase, and Lincoln will realize I’m more trouble than I’m worth. That, or their savior complexes will run out.
The door jiggles, and, a half second later, the latch pops up.
Lincoln swaggers inside before turning back to relock it. He pulls at the tops of his jeans around his thighs and squats down. “Did I push too hard?”
My head shakes, and I barely hold back the scoff. “You’ve been wonderful. I’m sorry for wasting your time and Joyce’s too. I don’t think I can afford to buy any of that stuff, even if it’s really nice and supports small business.”
He nods and swipes a tear from under my eye that I didn’t even know escaped. “I pushed way too hard. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be hiding right now.”
“Please don’t make me explain it all,” I say, glancing away. “If I do, I’ll cry, like the ugly kind of crying. It’s not you. You’re great. I don’t know why I’m having a breakdown, but I do know you’ve done nothing wrong.”
His blue eyes search my face, and he finally nods. “Fair enough. Come on, did you want to snag that jacket? My treat.”
I glance down at my lap and frown. I kinda did cry all over it, so I should buy it.
“I didn’t even get to try it on,” I admit.
Lincoln stands, offering his hands and pulling me up. He takes the new coat off the hanger while I struggle to get out of mine in the small space. Once I’m free, I toss it on the seat.
Lincoln towers over me, making it easy to see him over my shoulder in the mirror. He carefully helps me into the wool peacoat. It’s dark gray with big black buttons, and it’s adorable. He grabs my hand, spins me to face him, and begins working on the buttons.
It’s a fit-and-flare style. I don’t know if there’s a fancy name for it, but the coat almost fits like a dress.
“I’ve always had a big personality,” Lincoln says softly. “When I was three, my dad killed my mom. He’s still in prison—life without the possibility of parole. No one wanted to take responsibility for me, so they put me in foster care. I met Kase when I was fifteen.” He chuckles, but it’s a mirthless sound. “I was so fucking jealous of him. It was the first time I saw what a family is supposed to look like. To this day, I still wonder if they only put up with me because they felt sorry for me, but I’m also really fucking grateful they did. I remember what it was like to be completely alone.” He finishes the top button and runs his hands over the lapels of the jacket. He spins me to face the mirror. “I like it. What do you think?”
I’m still frozen, processing everything he said. “I’m so sorry.”
“It is what it is.” He shrugs. “You may get tired of the three of us hovering, but you can always tell us to get fucked. For now, I just want you to know, you’re not alone.”
My lip quivers, and I bite the hell out of the inside of my cheek to keep from sobbing. I swear to God, I’ve never been this weepy in my entire life.
Lincoln smiles at me as he rests his chin on my shoulder from behind. “Now, what’s the verdict? Do we have a winner? Or would you like to try something else?”
“It’s great. Thank you,” I say around the lump in my throat.
