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He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it.” His green eyes meet mine, steadier now. “But you should have told me, Annie.”
I chew the inside of my cheek. “Yeah. I know.”
Another rumble of thunder shakes the room, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. The air between us is stillheavy, but it’s shifting, changing into something I can’t quite define.
Finally, Cole leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “So…” He pauses, rubbing his hands together before looking up at me again. “What now?”
I let out a breath. “I don’t know.”
He nods like he expected that answer. “Do you—” He hesitates. “Do you want this?”
The question slams into me harder than I expect, even though I should’ve known it was coming.
I let out a breath, glancing away. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I haven’t had time to even let it sink in.” I swallow. “But I don’t not want it.”
Cole watches me carefully. He doesn’t say anything right away, just takes another long breath before nodding slowly.
“Okay.”
I study him. “And you?”
He’s quiet for a second, staring at the floor, his fingers tapping against his knee. When he looks up at me again, his eyes are steady.
“I don’t know either,” he says honestly. “But I know one thing.”
I brace myself. “What?”
His gaze doesn’t waver. “You’re not inthis alone.”
Something in my chest tightens, and I have to swallow hard against the sudden pressure in my throat.
“You mean that?” I whisper.
He nods once. “Yeah, Annie. I do.”
I exhale slowly, nodding, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. On us. But somehow, knowing I’m not the only one carrying it makes it just a little easier to bear.
Suddenly, I don’t feel so alone.
Chapter Thirty Nine
Cole
The storm hasn’t let up all day. Rain slashes against the glass walls of the conservatory, blurring the view of the ocean beyond. Wind howls through the trees, bending the palms near the shoreline, and thunder rolls in the distance, deep and steady.
Fitting.
It matches the storm inside my head.
I lean against the frame of the open doorway of the conservatory, arms crossed, staring out at the gray horizon. The air is thick with humidity, heavy with the scent of rain and salt. I take a slow breath, letting it fill my lungs before exhaling just as slowly. It doesn’t help. Nothing does.
Annie is pregnant.
The words won’t leave my head.
I’ve spent the past hour sitting in this chair, staring at the storm outside, trying to make sense of what this means.
For me.