He can keep his money. And his replacement family. If I never have to see any of them again, it’ll be too soon.
A small brown, orange, and white ball of fluff runs toward us, barking. Finn, Anchor’s family Papillon races our way from around the side of the house. He bounces into my lap and licks my face.
I laugh and try to get him to sit, instead. But the little dog just keeps licking.
“Finn, sit.” Anchor snaps his fingers.
The dog obeys, then perks up his ears and pants, still wagging his tail.
Anchor leans against the tall maple tree and sighs. “My parents are making me get a job now. They say if I’m not going to school, then I’m going to work.”
“Will your old boss take you back?”
“Probably. That’s what she said at the beginning of the summer. But if that doesn’t work out, I have other options.”
“That’s good.” I continue petting Finn. “I was thinking about getting a job too. But I doubt anyone would hire me.” I press my palm on my belly, which makes the roundness stand out.
“Isn’t that discrimination?”
I shrug.
“Now’d be the time to apply. Before it’s obvious. Soon people will be able to tell.”
“I wish I could just continue keeping it a secret.”
“Who’s going to judge you for wanting to keep a part of Kade?”
My mind flashes back to all the horrible things Dad said to me last time I saw him. “People always judge.”
“Maybe post about it on social media. That way you can tell everyone at once without actually having to say anything. Then if anyone decides to be an idiot, just delete their comments. You don’t have to put up with their negativity.”
“I guess. It just sucks that people have to know at all.”
“Most people will understand. I really think they will.” He puts his arm around me.
I lean against him and a warmth spreads through me. “Your name’s Anchor, and you’ve been my anchor ever since Kade died. You showed up almost as soon as it happened, and you pretty much haven’t left my side since then.”
“We understand each other. Both of us lost the most important person in our lives that night. And it’s not like it’s a sacrifice to spend time with you.”
I turn to look at him, and our gazes lock. Something about staring into his dark irises makes my breath hitch. I quickly nestle back into place and lean my head on his shoulder. It’s comfortable. Nice.
“Well, whatever you decide, I’m here. If anyone gives you crap, they’ll have to go through me first.”
Tears sting my eyes. “Thanks.” My voice cracks.
“Are you okay?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak without crying. I’m so tired of crying. So tired of hurting.
Anchor’s mom comes out to the deck and calls out to us, “I made donuts and hot apple cider!”
He squeezes my shoulder. “You want some? I have to warn you, you won’t be able to stop eating them.”
“Sounds good.” The perfect distraction from having to think about life.
“We’ll be right there!” Anchor helps me up. His hand lingers on mine after I’m standing, and I don’t pull away. We walk hand-in-hand to his house without a word. My heart races, and it isn’t from the strain of walking up the hill while pregnant. I like the feel of his hand around mine, but I can’t bring myself to look his way.
Kade’s face pops into my mind. I still don’t remove my hand from Anchor’s. It isn’t like we’re making out. It’s just holding hands. We’re each other’s support. But at the same time, I’d be dumb to think that’s all I’m feeling. I like Anchor’s arm around me and my hand in his.
Maybe I should feel guilty, but it’s not like anything is going to progress beyond this. It’s been a little over three months, and we’re both still mourning Kade. Neither one of us wants a relationship. I can’t even think about it right now. But Anchor and I help to fill the holes Kade left in both of our lives. It’s not perfect, and it doesn’t replace Kade, but it helps. It feels nice. Confusing, but comfortable. And besides, I’d be stupid to think Anchor would have any interest in me—pregnant with another guy’s baby. I’m hardly girlfriend material for anyone. Not that I’m close to being ready to even think about moving on from Kade.
Anchor pushes open the front door, and a whiff of apples and spices greets us. Finn runs inside, bouncing with each step. I take in a deep breath. The sweet aromas remind me of years long gone—going to the pumpkin patch with my family. Jumping in piles of leaves and throwing them at Rogan, who always let me win. Carving jack-o-lanterns and eating pie. Snuggling up with warm blankets and listening to the pitter-patter of rain hitting the windows.
Times when life didn’t hurt. When I knew nothing about the heartache of death or divorce.
Anchor squeezes my hand and guides me inside. I slip off my jacket and hang it on the rack, then we make our way into the kitchen. Lincoln waves to us with a mouthful of food and a donut in hand.
“Couldn’t wait for us, Linc?” Anchor teases his younger brother.
Lincoln shakes his head as he swallows dramatically. “You snooze, you lose.”
I smile, thinking of Rogan. Such a brotherly thing to say.
Anchor and Lincoln tease each other, and their mom waves me over to the stove. “Apple cider?”
“Thank you, Mrs. Jones.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Greer?”
“My mom says it’s rude to call adults by their first names.”
She pours some cider into a mug from the large pot. “Even though you’re an adult now?”
“That’s a good point.” It’s still strange to think of myself as an adult, even though I’ve been eighteen for a while and am out of high school.
Mrs. Jones—Greer—hands me two mugs and glances at my middle. “How are you doing these days? You’re about halfway?”
I cup the hot mugs and nod. “Four and a half months. I’m feeling pretty good now that I can eat more.”
“Good.” She gives me a sweet smile. “I know you have your mom, but if you need anything, I’m here.”
“I really appreciate it.”
“Now grab a donut before those boys eat them all.”
“Hey,” Anchor says. “I’d save some for her.”
I hand him one of the mugs, then sip the steaming drink as I sit next to him. He pulls the tray of donuts toward me just as Lincoln grabs another.
“Hey!” Lincoln gives his brother a playful punch.
Anchor ignores him. “Quick, take one.”
I grab one and enjoy the moment before tasting the treat. I love being with a full family, especially the teasing and banter. It almost makes it feel like everything is right in the world again. Almost. If I ignore the gaping hole in my heart.
“How do you like it?” Greer asks.
I take a big bite and the apple cider donut melts in my mouth, then I swallow. “If my taste buds could sing, you’d hear a chorus.”
Greer beams. “That’s what I like to hear. There’s another batch cooking. You’ll have to take some home for your mom.”
“She’ll love it. Thank you.”
We talk and laugh over snacks and cider, and for a few minutes, I have the pleasure of pretending that everything is normal.
But only a few minutes.
I stand to help Greer with the dishes when a gush of something warm drips down my legs. My breath hitches as I hesitate before looking down. Whatever it is can’t be good. It’s way too early for water breaking.
Anchor turns to me, laughing, but his smile fades and his face pales. “Sutton!”
I look down, immediately regretting my choice of white pants. Now they’re stained with red.
Blood!
Dread washes through me. It’s worse than I thought.
“Mom!” Anchor scrambles out of his chair. “Mom!”
Greer turns around and her eyes widen. “We need to get you to
the hospital!” She turns to Anchor. “Start the car.” Then she turns to Lincoln. “Grab some dark towels. I’m going to call the emergency room and let them know we’re on the way.”
I try to speak, but can’t. I try to move, but can’t. All I can think is that I’m going to lose Kade’s baby. It’s going to be like losing him all over again.
The room spins around me.
Anchor steadies me. “Let’s get you to the car. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I want to ask how he knows that, but the words won’t come. I’m going to lose my only connection to Kade.
Somehow we get to the car. I have a dark towel wrapped around me and I’m sitting on more. Next thing I know, we’re at the hospital. Someone must’ve called my mom because she’s in the waiting room already. I can’t speak. Can barely think.
The baby moves around in my belly. Is it scared? Taking its last breaths—if they breathe? I don’t even know.
Everyone’s staring at me. Judging me. Or at least it feels that way.
A nurse calls for me.
“I don’t want to go in alone.”
“You can bring one person with you.”
Mom stands up.
“Anchor.”
Disappointment washes over Mom’s face. She sits.
Anchor looks at me. “Are you sure?”
“Please.”
He apologizes to my mom, then comes with me.
“You’re the only one who’s fully supported me through all of this.” I can’t forget Mom making me face Dad, even if she does feel bad about it in retrospect.
In the bathroom, I change into a gown and tie it super tight in the back, then answer all the nurses questions before she leaves to call for an ultrasound machine.
“Are you sure you want me here?” Anchor asks.
“Yes. Hold my hand, please.” I close my eyes and focus on trying to feel the baby move. Anchor’s fingers thread through mine and our hands rest on my stomach.
I relax and open my eyes. He’s looking at me with such concern, it takes my breath away.
His mouth gapes. “Did you feel that?”
“What?” I’d been so focused on his expression I didn’t notice anything else.
“Was that a kick?” He presses his other palm on my stomach.
Then I feel it. A kick. I nod.
“That’s amazing. I didn’t know you could feel it already.”
“Feeling it from the outside just started this morning, actually.”
He moves his palm around my stomach. “Is this okay?”
I smile. “It’s perfect.”
Then another warm gush escapes under the blanket.
Anchor
I wipe the tears from Sutton’s eyes and press her hair away from her face with my free hand. She’s clinging to my other one.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper, even though I have no idea how this will end. More than anything, I want her and the baby I just felt kicking to be okay.
“Hold still, sweetie.” The ultrasound technician adjusts the wand on Sutton’s stomach.
She whimpers, but stills herself.
I brush my fingertips across her cheek. “I’m right here, and I won’t go anywhere.”
More tears trail down her face. I wipe them away, but I want to kiss them away. I want to kiss every last one of them out of existence. I know it’s wrong, but it would be the most natural thing in the world.
Then the reality of what I’ve been trying to ignore slaps me across the face. I’m in love with my dead best friend’s girlfriend. The woman who’s carrying his baby. It’s so messed up, but I can’t help how I feel. And with her life possibly on the line, everything I feel is heightened.
Hopefully tomorrow I’ll feel completely differently.
“I have good news.” The ultrasound tech’s voice breaks through my inner turmoil.
“What?” I turn to the lady.
She smiles. “Everything looks good. We’ll keep her here for observation, but she should be able to go home tomorrow. The doctor might require bedrest, but she’ll be able to be in her own bed.”
That doesn’t make me feel any better. “How can everything look good? What about all that blood?”
Her smile fades. “Sometimes it happens, and we don’t know why. But the good news is that both Sutton and the baby are doing well.”
“That doesn’t explain anything. Why would she bleed like that? There has to be a reason.”
“It could be any number of things. Stress. Overexertion. Something else entirely.”
I turn to Sutton. “Have you been stressed? Overdoing anything?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t done anything. But my parents have been arguing a lot.”
“Your dad is behind this?” I clench my jaw. “I have half a mind to go over there and—”
“Don’t.” She squeezes my hand. “After this, I’ll tell Mom to stop talking to him or I’ll move out.”
“Move out? Where will you go?”
“Doesn’t matter. The threat will be enough to convince her to cut him out of our lives, if all this blood doesn’t do it.”
I nod, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have a man-to-man talk with her father soon, and I won’t tell her about it because she’ll try to stop me.
“Do you know the sex of the baby?” asks the technician.
Sutton shakes her head. “I think I’m supposed to find out at my next appointment.”
“You don’t have to wait if you want to know now.”
“Can you tell?” Sutton pushes herself up onto her elbows and looks at the monitor.
The lady smiles and nods. “It’s really clear right now.”
I study the image, not even able to tell where the head is, much less anything else. Good thing I have no desire to go into the medical field. I’d be useless.
Sutton squeezes my hand. “What do you think?”
“It’s up to you.”
She holds her breath for a moment. “Tell us.”
The technician points to the screen. “See these three bumps there?”
“Yeah.” Sutton sits a little higher.
“It’s a girl.”
Sutton turns to me, her eyes widening and a smile forming. “A girl.”
“Congratulations.” I kiss her forehead.
She doesn’t seem to notice.
I want to kiss her more, and not on her forehead, so I sit back in the chair to make sure I don’t act on my impulses.
Everything happens in a blur as the technician leaves with the ultrasound machine and the doctor returns to talk to Sutton. Basically, she says Sutton has to stay overnight and then stay in bed at home for a while. Maybe a long while.
A nurse comes in and says Sutton’s mom wants to see her, but that Sutton can only have one visitor at a time.
I turn to Sutton. “Is that okay?”
She nods. “I need to talk to her, anyway.”
“I’ll be in the waiting room. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thank you.” She squeezes my hand.
Everything in me wants to kiss her. Instead, I just squeeze her hand in return and hold her gaze before leaving. It’s so hard to ignore my feelings, but they wane as I head down the hallway back to the waiting room.
“You can go in now,” I tell Rori. “She’ll be okay, but they think stress caused this. Sutton says you and her dad have been fighting a lot. Stressing her out.”
Her face falls, and she follows the nurse without a word.
“You were a little harsh.” Mom gives me the stink-eye as I sit next to her.
“Not really. All of this could be avoided if she’d stop arguing with Sutton’s dad.”
Mom frowns. “I know you’re trying to help and that you care about Sutton—”
“A lot,” Lincoln says. He gives me a look that tells me he knows exactly how I feel about Sutton.
Mom glares at him before turning back to me. “What I’m trying to say is, Rori’s doing her best. We
were talking while you were in there, and her ex is really hassling her about Sutton’s pregnancy. He’s putting a lot of stress on her, and she’s doing her best to take care of Sutton.”
“And what I’m saying is, maybe she needs to try harder.”
“Would you two stop?” Lincoln asks. “You’re stressing me out.”
“Then go home,” I snap.
“Anchor.” Mom’s brows come together. “What’s going on with you?”
“I just watched Sutton break down because she thought she was going to lose someone else she loves, less than four months after losing Kade.”
“Or maybe it’s because he’s in love with Kade’s girlfriend.”
I jump to my feet, clenching my fists. “Shut up, Linc!”
“Sit down!” Mom points to my seat.
“Not until he apologizes.” I glare at my brother.
“For what? Saying the truth?”
Mom rises. “Come on, Linc. We’re going home.”
I step between them. “You can’t. I drove!”
She holds up her keychain. “I have a key.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“With the way you’re behaving? You’d better believe it.”
“How am I supposed to get home?”
“You can walk. It’ll give you the chance to cool off.”
“I can’t believe you’d do this. Seriously, with everything going on.” I fold my arms, then throw a glare at Lincoln. “And you’re acting like a two-year-old.”
Mom takes a deep breath. “Emotions are high. We’ve all been stressed out for months. Maybe what everyone needs is to cut each other some slack.”
Her words knock the wind out of my sails. “You’re right.” I turn to Linc. “I’m on edge because of Sutton. I’d appreciate you not teasing me about her, though. Yes, we’re closer now, but she’s not over Kade. And I wouldn’t want her to be. Every night I dream he’s alive, then I wake to the crushing reality. She’s going through the same thing.”
Linc nods. “I didn’t think about it like that. Sorry, bro.”
“Thank you.” Mom slinks back into her seat.
I rake my hands through my hair. “You two can take my car home if you want. I don’t know how long I’m going to be here. Sutton has to stay overnight.”
Mom gives me a double-take. “And you’re going to stay here?”
The Only Things You Can Take (Wildflower Romance #2) Page 6