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“Your tip,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “For tonight.”
I shook my head, my chest tight. “I can’t take that.”
“You can,” he said firmly, his voice low and steady. “Use it for school. Use it for whatever you need.”
“You can’t buy me,” I told him, offended, though my voice cracked, betraying me.
His eyes softened, and he stepped closer. “I’m not trying to buy you, Delia. If we went on a date, I’d spend it on dinner, drinks—whatever. This is the same thing.”
He paused, his gaze earnest, sincere. “I care about you. And I care about… this baby.”
My breath hitched, tears threatening to spill again. I looked away, unable to handle the intensity of his words.
Robert gently reached for my hand, his touch surprisingly soft for someone so strong. “Sit down,” he said quietly. “Let me clean up, and we can talk.”
I let him pull me toward one of the stools, my body feeling heavy and unsteady as I sat. He walked around the bar and started gathering empty glasses, his broad shoulders moving in a way that somehow comforted me.
Robert’s presence—steady, reliable—was like an anchor. As I watched him work, I realized I’d been telling him he didn’t have to carry his burdens alone.
But maybe I didn’t either.
thirty-six
Robrt
The air along the Seattle waterfront was chilly as Delia walked beside me, her hands tucked into the pockets of my coat that I’d wrapped around her scant work uniform. Her face was turned slightly away as she admired the horizon.
“So, have you been to a doctor yet?” I asked her.
“Yes, everything is good so far. The doctor gave me a prescription for prenatal vitamins. The first ultrasound isn't recommended for another month or two.”
“And you? Areyouokay?” I continued, my voice low as we walked along the paved path. It was too simple a question for what had just happened and what I’d just learned.
A few people passed us, couples holding hands or friends chatting quietly, but I didn’t pay them any mind. My focus was on her.
Delia turned her head slightly, giving me a small, wistful smile. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
“Dangerous habit,” I teased lightly, trying to ease her out of whatever had a hold on her.
She shook her head. “Oh, no. This from the king of overthinking himself? I’m done for.”
Ahead of us, the water lapped against the wooden docks, the gentle sound somehow calming.
I spotted a gondola docked further down, the kind that was reserved for tourists or couples who wanted to pay for the romance of it. The man working there was half-dozing under a canopy, clearly not expecting customers this late.
“Come on,” I said, tilting my head toward the gondola. “Let’s take a ride.”
Delia raised her brows, pausing mid-step. “I think they’re probably closed.”
“Not for us.” I nodded in the direction of the gondola operator, who was now sitting up, blinking in confusion. “Wait here.”
I pulled my wallet out of the coat pocket she was wearing, and I brought it over to the man. “How much to take us out for an hour?”
“We’re done for the night,” he said, his tone polite but firm.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” I said smoothly. “Double your rate.”
He snorted. “I only charge $20 per person.”