I pull out my phone again, deciding to browse baby websites. With the house quiet and no concern for interruption, I peruse baby clothes and Pinterest pictures of nurseries.
A baby. My baby. Our baby.
The thought fills me with warmth, even as anxiety churns in my stomach. I picture holding a little one with Ash's dark hair and blue eyes, or maybe my red curls. Teaching them to paint, watching them take their first steps in this big house.
But then reality crashes back. Ash can barely look at me these days. How would he react to news of a baby? Would he see it as a betrayal of Meghan's memory? Or worse, would he think I was trapping him? Worries about his reaction are what keep the secret locked away.
What if he can’t love the baby? What if he can’t love either of us?
I rest my hand on my stomach. "I'll love you enough for both of us.”
I curl deeper into the window seat, watching the rain again. It matches my mood, a steady drizzle of uncertainty clouding everything. With Ash hyper-focused on revenge, what happens once Kean’s power is usurped? Will Ash still want me around, or with my purpose served, will he send me away?
I blow out a breath. All this wallowing isn’t getting me anywhere. Especially now when I need to prepare for guests. Ash had been adamant that I can’t leave and no one can come over, but then the Sullivans reached out. The family my father said would wait to pick a side once there was a winner. They’re wanting to talk, and I was able to convince Ash we should have them for dinner just like we did the others.
I pull myself together and head downstairs to check on all the dinner details. I smooth down the tablecloth, checking the placesettings. Antonio outdid himself with the menu, traditional dishes with modern twists that should impress without seeming like we're trying too hard. The Sullivans are one of the most influential families left on our list. We need their support, especially after that warning from the Keans.
I retreat upstairs once I know everything is as it should be. I change into an emerald green dress. It still fits well, but I know from my research that by four months I won’t be able to hide my pregnancy. That’s how much time I have to figure out what I’m going to do.
"Hannah." Ash's voice startles me. He stands in the doorway, looking tired but handsome in his suit. "Everything ready for tonight?"
I manage a smile, wishing he'd cross the room and hold me like he used to. Instead, he stays by the door, his expression guarded.
“Yes. I think the Sullivans will be impressed."
He nods, his eyes scanning the room before landing back on me. For a moment, something flickers in his gaze. Concern? Desire?
“Shall we, then?” He holds his arm out.
I slip my arm through his, savoring a moment of closeness. We head downstairs and greet our guests.
“You certainly know how to play house, don’t you, Hannah?” Mrs. Sullivan says as we sit at the table.
I’m not sure what she means.
“My goodness, you’re barely a woman.”
Ah, that’s a dig at my age. “It was either this or study engineering.” I mean it as a joke, but her scowl suggests she hasn’t taken it as such.
She tastes the pasta. "The sauce is quite… interesting," she says, dabbing her lips. "Perhaps a touch too much garlic?"
"I find it perfect," Ash cuts in, but his tone is clipped as he looks over at me. I’m not sure whether he’s annoyed at her or me.
Mr. Sullivan's eyes dart between us, calculating. "It takes a little time to settle into married life. It’s quite a lovely home for newlyweds. Though rather large for just two people, isn't it?"
My cheeks burn. I take a sip of water, wanting to give myself a moment before responding. "We believe in planning ahead.”
Mrs. Sullivan's perfectly plucked eyebrows rise. "Oh? Planning for what, exactly?"
I catch the glance between husband and wife. Are they testing us, looking for cracks in our united front?
"The future holds many possibilities," Ash says smoothly, but I notice how his knuckles whiten around his fork.
"Indeed it does," Mr. Sullivan drawls. "Though some might say the future looks rather… uncertain these days. Especially for young couples making bold moves."
The doubt in his words is clear. They're wondering if we're worth the risk of backing.
“You were young and bold once,” I say with a smile.
