Page 109 of The Loves We Lost

We open the packaging of the three tests, and I hold them in my hand. “Okay, give me a minute.”

Miles folds his arms. “I want to be a part of this.”

“I am not peeing in front of you.”

“It’s just a biological function, Vi.”

“I know it’s a biological function. One you don’t need to see, and I don’t think I can perform while you stand there as if you’re waiting for a band to walk on stage or something. This isn’t a concert.”

Miles’s chuckle fills the bathroom. “No. It’s the rest of our lives. Not a concert. Just humor me.”

“I’m not humoring you.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“I need to pee, and you need to leave.”

Miles turns around but does not leave. “There. That’s my only compromise.”

I roll my eyes but accept it’s likely going to have to be enough. I pee on each stick. Sort of at the same time. Moving the tips around.

When I’m done, I place them on their packaging on the counter and finish up.

“Done,” I say as I begin to wash my hands.

Miles looks at his phone. “How long do we wait?”

“I think the shortest was a minute, the longest was three.”

He taps the screen. “I set a timer for three minutes.” When he’s done, he places it down on the vanity.

My heart skips a beat when Miles pulls me into his arms. “Boy or girl?” he asks.

“He, she, or they. I don’t care what they are as long as they are healthy.”

Miles sighs. “I want you to be healthy too.”

“I think I’ll do a better job this time around of looking after myself. I was a mess last time.”

“We,” he says firmly. “We’ll do a better job this time around. You won’t be on your own. I’ll be there, right by your side, every step of the way. Healthy meals. Solid sleep. I’ll look out for Averyso you can rest. And if you can’t work because you’re tired or struggling or whatever, I’ll take care of you. I mean, I’m going to take care of you regardless, but I’ll take care of you even harder. Because you already did the work. You raised our daughter. You took care of me when I was beaten. You’ve made an incredible career for yourself.”

His words fill me with immense pride, and I press a kiss to his chest. “It’s reassuring I won’t be doing this alone.”

“Never, Vi. I promise.”

I see the name on his cut.Bates.“Why Bates? Why not Fortune?”

Miles smiles. “You don’t get to pick your own name. If you’re lucky, someone picks it for you.”

“And you got lucky?”

He kisses me softly. “Depends how you look at it?”

“And howshouldI look at it?”

“I’ve always taken care of my knives. But as a prospect you don’t get a room at the club. Back then, I cleaned them up in one of the communal bathrooms at the old clubhouse. Like a prick, I was waving one of my larger knives in the air as I walked into bathroom one night, slicing and dicing it in the air. But the president’s old lady was behind the shower curtain and had just turned the water off before I stepped inside.”

I grin as my head plays out the rest of the scene before he says it. “You mean like when Norman Bates stabs Marion in the shower inPsycho? She sees the silhouette of the blade in the shower curtain, right?”