Austen Box Set

by Hart, Staci

  And then he swept me into his arms and held me as close as our baby would allow.

  I found it was plenty close after all.

  My cheek was pressed into his plastic breastplate, my smile dreamy and slow, when I heard Abbey’s name from far away.

  My smile fell like a zeppelin on fire.

  “Abbey!” It was louder, closer, and touched with a French accent.

  “Oh, no,” I breathed, stopping our slow circle and clutching Tyler’s biceps. “Oh, no.”

  Abbey had stopped too, her face bent in confusion as she looked around.

  A very tall, very gorgeous French-Canadian wound his way frantically through the crowd toward her, yelling her name. The dancefloor stilled. Foreigner kept on singing.

  “Who is this?” Etienne said, his face bent in pain, hand thrust in the direction of a very confused Jett.

  “He’s just my—Oh my God, stop!” she screamed, reaching for him too late.

  His fist was already on a fast track for Jett’s jaw.

  Jett spun around, clutching at his face with his eyes on fire. “Son of a bitch! What the fuck, man—we were just dancing!”

  “She is mine, asshole!”

  “Etienne!” Abbey yelled, hanging onto his arm uselessly. “What are you doing? Why are you even here? You haven’t called me in days, haven’t answered my messages. What the hell are you doing here?”

  He turned on her, his face instantly melting as he reached for hers. “Mon cher, I have been lost. I love you, do you know this? I cannot bear to be parted from you. So if you will not move to Quebec, I will come here. I will do anything for you, my darling.”

  He dropped down to one knee, and I think every female in the building gasped in unison, including me, but for very different reasons.

  “Oh my God,” I muttered. “I’ve got to stop him!”

  But Tyler had me around my waist. Well, where my waist used to be. “Ah, ah, ah. You’re not going anywhere.”

  “But—”

  “No buts.” He tightened his grip, his voice hard. “Let it go.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. “But…”

  He pressed a kiss into my hair. “I know.”

  Etienne had a little velvet box in his hands. “I love you like Aragorn loves Arwen, beyond time, beyond space. Be my wife. Marry me.”

  Abbey’s hands were on her lips, her eyes wide and blinking and locked on that ring for a long moment. And when she moved her fingers away, she was smiling.

  “Yes,” she cried just before launching herself at Etienne.

  The crowd erupted in cheers and whistles. Well, everyone but Tyler, who was hanging on to me so I wouldn’t break them up, Jett, who was rubbing his jaw and glaring at Etienne, and me. I was just trying not to openly cry as my plan came unraveled.

  Just like everything I touched came unraveled.

  Loss crept through me, settling in my chest, hollowing it out. Nothing was simple. Nothing was in my control.

  Nothing.

  I crumpled against Tyler as the tears fell, tears that had nothing to do with Abbey and everything to do with me.

  “Don’t cry,” Tyler whispered. “Please, don’t cry.”

  A sob hiccupped in my throat. He squeezed me tighter before letting me go, grabbing my hand, and towing me toward the back of the store.

  The din of the crowd faded as we walked down the hall and into the office where he sat me in my chair and knelt at my feet, his eyes soft and warm and perfect. He took my hands.

  “I love you, Cam.”

  “Even though I’m c-crazy?”

  A tug at his lips. “Especially because you’re crazy.”

  I sighed, but the air trembled out of me. “You were right. About Abbey and Jett. You’re always right.”

  “Can I get that in writing?”

  I chuckled.

  “Can I tell you something?” he asked.

  “Only if you take off that wig. I can’t take you seriously.”

  He pulled that and his hat off, smiling small. “Better?”

  I cupped his jaw. “Much.”

  Tyler turned his face to press a kiss in my palm before locking gazes with me again. “So much of what happens to us in life is beyond our control. But we look for patterns in the chaos, even when there’s none, because it makes us feel like we have a say. Like we understand.”

  “Is this supposed to be a pep talk?” I teased.

  “I’ll get there. Trust me.”

  “I do,” I whispered.

  “There are few constants, few undeniable truths. And the one you can always count on is that I love you.”

  My throat tightened painfully as a fat tear rolled down my cheek.

  “I love you. No matter what happens in this life, no matter what you do or don’t do. No matter our wins or our losses. I love you. You’re what makes the chaos bearable. You’re what I hold on to when everything else falls apart. And for me, nothing else matters.” His hand moved to my stomach, cupped the curve. I covered his hand with mine. “Just this. Just you and me and our baby. And she’ll be chaotic too. But you can always count on me. Always.”

  “But…what if I…how will I know if I’m doing the right thing?”

  “Right and wrong is an illusion. All we can do is the best we can with the tools we have. And sometimes, that tool is patience. Sometimes we have to let things sit and breathe and be what they are.”

  “Even when we’re scared?”

  “Especially when we’re scared. Because acting on fear will only make things worse. It only makes things harder.”

  “Just breathe.”

  He nodded. “Just breathe.”

  I tried it, sipping a breath, filling my lungs. Then again, deeper, thicker. And when I let it out, I let my fear go too.

  I kissed him, tasted the salt of my tears on my lips, felt the lightness in my heart that was his, reveled in the weight of our daughter cradled in my body after so much loss.

  Because looking into his eyes, I knew everything would be fine.

  We had each other. The constant in the chaos.

  And that was the greatest joy of all.