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HOLT

I’m not surprised when I wake up and she’s not here.

I was waiting for it. I’ve been waiting for it all day. But she didn’t say anything, so I didn’t want too either. I was putting the ball in her court, wanting to follow her lead, wanting to support her in any way I can.

Yanking the comforter off the bed, I silently trudge across the hallway, dragging it behind me. She’s right where I knew she’d be, standing over his crib, watching him.

Daire is two months old today.

The same age as his namesake was when he passed away.

I don’t have to say anything for her to know I’m here. The intensity of our love hammers through the darkness, chipping away at the fear. She knows I’m watching her.

Just like she’s watching our son.

“How can people survive something like that?” she asks, not turning around.

“I have no idea,” I answer honestly.

“My parents. Crutch and Ella. They’ve all lost a child. How do you go on living after that? If something happened to him…” her voice trails off, choking with emotion.

I wrap my arms around her and kiss her neck. “You don’t have to worry about that. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But I have faith. That’s all we can have as parents. Faith that everything will be all right. Faith that God will keep our son safe and healthy. That he’ll grow up, become a strong and honorable man, and give us a slew of grandchildren.”

Daire opens his eyes and blinks. We instantly do that thing all parents do—where you freeze and stop breathing, eagerly praying that your baby doesn’t cry. Deciding our conversation isn’t too important, he yawns and goes back to sleep.

Merit sniffles. “He’s perfect.”

I spin her around and wipe her silent tears. “You’re perfect.” Pulling her over to the loveseat tucked in the corner of the nursery, I settle her body next to mine and cover us with the comforter.

“We’re gonna sleep in here?”

I lift an eyebrow. “You plan on leaving him tonight?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

I drag my fingers through her hair, draping it over my arm so it doesn’t get caught underneath us and yank her neck. “Yeah, me neither.”

It doesn’t take me long to doze off, comforted by the fact that we’re both in the same room with Daire and he is safely snuggled in his crib with all the technology that’s monitoring his breathing and heart rate. How did the fucking pioneers do this shit without smart phones and baby monitors and cameras? I’m a damn nervous wreck twenty-four-seven, and I have all of those things…

Anyway, I doze off, but for some reason, it’s not a peaceful sleep. And since I’m in my new era of no longer sleeping through the end of the world, restless nights bother me. It’s like my body knows when something is about to happen, when something’s not right.

Leaning up on an elbow, I wipe the sleep from my eyes and check on Daire. He’s still slumbering; I can hear his steady little baby snore. So, shit, why can’t I sleep?

Merit’s tucked against my body with her back against my front, but when I gently push the hair away from her eyes, I can feel the hitch in her breath. She stiffens, waiting to see if I’m going to say something or lie back down. “Mer? What’s wrong? Are you still worried about him?”

Grabbing my hand, she kisses my wrist, mimicking the action I’ve become so fond of. “Everything’s fine. I’m just having trouble sleeping. Don’t worry about me.”

Don’t worry about her? That’s like telling a starving man not to think about a steak dinner.

Even ignoring that flippant comment, it’s pretty obvious to see that this has nothing to do with normal insomnia. It’s something more. I don’t even have to see her face to know that ‘everything’s fine’ is a lie.

“Don’t lie, Merit.”

“Mmmm?”

“Something’s wrong. Something’s really bothering you. What is it?”

Instead of immediately answering, she grabs my arm, forcing me to hold her tighter. The act alone fills me with love and terror, all at the same time.

“Tell me the truth.”

She inhales so deeply, her back shudders against my chest. “Do you ever feel like we cheated fate?”

“Cheated fate? What are you talking about?”

“Like… we weren’t meant to be together, weren’t meant to be happy? Like the universe ordered we should stay apart—stay broken up—and never heal, never forgive.” Her voice lowers to a whisper, and I can hear the thick emotion, nearly preventing her from speaking. “Like the universe determined we shouldn’t be a family. And then we broke those rules and did our own thing.”

What. The. Hell.

I spring into a sitting position, bringing Merit with me. Manhandling her, I spin her around and haul her onto my lap. Cradling her cheeks, I wipe the runaway tears that are streaming down her face and fucking breaking my heart in the process. “What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

She glances over, immediately worried about waking Daire. “I… I don’t know,” she stutters. “It’s just sometimes… I feel so happy, so loved, and so in love with you and Daire, that it almost feels like I’m doing something wrong. Something bad. Because what did I do to deserve this much joy?”

“Look at me.” I force her wandering gaze back to my steady one. “We are right where we are supposed to be, right where we’re meant to be. Together. Nothing tore us apart but my own stupidity. I won’t even blame Delaney for it because that was all me. You are my everything. You and Daire are the reason I breathe, the reason my heart beats, the light to every dark thing in a bad world. Fate wants us together. It needs us together. Because if we aren’t? The universe will cease to exist. Every single thing and every single person around us will implode. Our love? It’s the one thing keeping the Earth in orbit.”

I watch as my words calm her. Slowly, a peace settles on her face, bringing me a happiness that I’m going to hold onto forever. I dare the fates to rip it away from me. Fucking let them try; they won’t get far. Nothing can pry this bliss from my steadfast grip. This joy is a prisoner of my heart—captive for all eternity—and I’m never letting it go.

“How’d I get so lucky? How could God make you just for me?” she asks.

I kiss her lips, relishing how soft and full they feel against my own. “The same way He made you for me .”

Nodding, she buries herself against my chest. “You’re right.”

“Of course, I’m right. Aren’t I always,” I joke. She chuckles, blowing her hot breath across my bare skin. I give her a few more minutes to calm down before I press her for more details about her feelings. “Where in the world did all of that come from, Mer? Have you been feeling that way for a while?”

She shakes her head and furrows her brow. The moonlight slanting in through the blinds shades everything in streaks of black and blue. “I don’t know. I’ve just felt… off the past couple of days. I guess it could be some delayed postpartum depression or something.” She looks up at me and drags her finger across the stubble on my jaw. “You think that’s it?”

I shrug. “It could be.”

“And I’ve been a little paranoid too.”

“Paranoid?”

“I thought someone was following me and Daire at the grocery store the other day. Some guy. And I had the same feeling that day at the park when you showed up.”

What. The. Ever. Living. Fuck.

The hairs on my arms stand at attention, and a protective fury clenches my heart in its fist, squeezing it in a death grip. “What the hell? Are you serious?”

Well, that was a stupid question.

I have no idea why I asked it. Of course, she’s serious.

“When I tried to look, I didn’t actually see anybody,” she says. Like those words alone will appease me.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Do you think some of the other paparazzi are back? Do you think they are trying to get pictures of Daire?”

I drag my hand down my face, scratching my chin in thought and praying those vultures aren’t chasing my son down grocery store aisles. I mean, he’s only two months old; they’re not going to see anything but maybe the occasional spit-up. This is exactly why we did posed photos last month, sold them, and donated all the proceeds to The Hill Family Charities. “I don’t know. I can reach out to Chloe and see if she can ask around?” Lifting her chin, I rub my nose against hers. “But if anything like that happens again—if you get that feeling, no matter how minor—call me immediately. I’ll drop everything and come to you. And if for some crazy reason, I don’t answer, call Ridge or Crutch. Got me?”

She nods, exhaling all of the tension and feelings of powerlessness from her body. “Okay, sir .”

Despite the serious nature of the moment, a smile tugs against my lips.

Her arms snag around my neck, drawing me back to her. Our kiss is slow and languid. I work my tongue around hers, sucking and nipping, showing her that we have all the time in the world to be happy. Our pain has come and gone. We weathered it; we survived it.

We have nothing to worry about.