“You don’t look right.”
Beth exhaled and wondered if she could get away with lying. Probably not.
“I’m sorry.” She scraped the inside of the carton, digging out the last of the mint ice cream. “I’m all … up in my head right now.”
“Would you like to talk about it?”
“I’m just overwhelmed by everything.” She put the carton aside and let her head fall back. “I feel like there’s this weight hanging over me.”
“With Wrath where he is, I don’t know how you get through the nights—”
There was a knock at the door, and when Layla answered, it was not a surprise that Blay and Qhuinn came in. The two fighters looked awkward, though—and not because of the Chosen.
Beth cursed herself. “Can I just get my apology to you two over with now?”
As Blay went across and sat next to Layla, Qhuinn planted his shitkickers and shook his head. “You got nothing to sorry us about.”
“So I was the only one who thought I jumped down your throats? Come on.” And now that she’d cooled off and was properly chocolatized, she needed to apologize to her husband—as well as get him to talk. “I didn’t mean to come across like a bitch.”
“Rough times.” Qhuinn shrugged. “And I’m not interested in saints.”
“Really? You’re in love with one,” Layla chimed in.
As Qhuinn glanced over at Blay, his mismatched eyes narrowed. “Damn straight I am,” he said softly.
As the redhead turned red—natch—that connection between the two males became positively tangible.
Love was such a beautiful thing.
Beth rubbed the center of her chest, and had to redirect things before she started tearing up. “I only wanted to know what John was saying.”
Qhuinn’s face closed down. “Talk to your hubs.”
“I will.” And there was a part of her that wanted to finish up here with the Chosen and go directly to Wrath’s study. But then she thought of all those petitions he and Saxton were working on. It seemed too selfish to barge in there and interrupt the pair.
Besides, she was two inches away from crying—and not even as in telephone-commercial tears. More like what happened to her at the end of Marley & Me.
Closing her eyes, she sifted through the last two years and remembered how it had been between her and Wrath back in the beginning. Knock-your-socks-off passionate. Heart and soul connected. Nothing but the two of them even when they were in a crowd.
All that was still there, she told herself. Life, however, had a way of clouding things. Now, if she wanted to be with her man, she had to get in line and that was okay—she understood jobs and stress. The problem was, so often lately, when they were finally alone together, Wrath would get that look on his face.
The one that meant he was only with her in body. Not in mind. Maybe not in soul.
That trip to Manhattan had reminded her of the way things had been. But it was only a vacation, a break from the real nature of their lives.
Placing her hands on her rounded stomach, she wished she were loosening her clothes for the same reason Layla was.
Maybe that was another piece to this whole kid thing for her. Maybe she was looking to get back that visceral connection she’d had with him—
“Beth?”
Snapping to attention, she looked over at Layla. “I’m sorry, what?”
“What would you like to watch?” Layla asked.
Oh, wow, Blay and Qhuinn had left. “Um … I say whoever threw up last gets to pick.”
“It’s not that much of a hardship.”
“You are a real trooper, you know that?”
“Not really, no. But may I say that I wish for you the same opportunity to … how do you say, tuck it up?”
“Suck. It’s ‘suck it up.’”
“Right.” The Chosen picked up the remote and got the Time Warner cable guide up on the screen across the way. “I’m determined to get this vernacular thing correct. Let’s see … Millionaire Matchmaker?”
“I love Patti.”
“Myself as well. You know, this ice cream really hit the stop.”
“Spot. Do you want more? I can go down and—”
“No, let’s see if this stays put.” The Chosen lay her hand on her own belly. “You know, I truly do wish this for you and the King.”
Beth stared down at her body, willing it to get with the program. “Can I be honest?”
“Please.”
“What if I’m infertile.” As the words blurted out, her chest burned with a fear so deep, she was sure it was going to leave a scar.
Layla reached out a hand. “Don’t utter those words. Of course you aren’t.”
“I’m a half-breed, right? I never had normal periods when I was … you know, before I went through the change. I would go years without having one, and then what I did get just wasn’t right.” No reason to go into specifics with the Chosen, but what had presented itself as a period would be so light—not at all what other girls described. “And after my transition, all of that stopped.”
“Well, I’m not overly familiar with the way cycles work down here, but it’s my understanding that five years after the change you can expect your first needing. How long has it been?”
“Two and a half.” Annnnnd now she felt really nuts. Why should she be worried about something that shouldn’t even be on the horizon for three more years? “Before you say it, I know, I know … it would be totally early if I managed to kick-start it now. A miracle. But the rules for half-breeds are that there aren’t any, and I’m hoping…” She rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I’ll stop. The more I say all this out loud, the more I realize how insane I am.”
“On the contrary, I understand completely where you are. Don’t apologize for wanting a young or for doing whatever it is you can to have one. It’s perfectly normal—”
Beth didn’t mean to hug the Chosen. It was just … one minute she was back against the pillows; the next she was holding on to Layla.
“Thank you,” Beth choked out.
“Dearest Virgin in the Fade.” Layla held on in return. “Whate’er for?”
“I need to know someone else gets it. Sometimes I feel alone.”
Layla inhaled a great breath. “I know how that is.”
Beth backed up. “But Blay and Qhuinn are totally with you in this.”
The Chosen just shook her head, a strange expression tightening her features. “It’s not about them.”
Beth waited for the other female to fill in the blank. When she didn’t, Beth didn’t pry. But maybe … just maybe things were not quite as uncomplicated as they appeared on the outside. It was well-known that the female had been in love with Qhuinn at some point—but it had seemed as if she’d come to terms with the fact that he was destined for another.
Clearly, she was better at hiding her feelings in public than people assumed.
“Do you know why I wanted this so badly?” Layla said as they both resettled into their respective pillows.
“Tell me. Please.”
“I needed something of my own. So does Qhuinn.” She glanced over. “And that’s why I envy you. You’re doing it for a communion with your mate. That is … extraordinary.”
God, what could she say in response? “Qhuinn loves you in a special way”? That was like soothing someone’s compound fracture with an aspirin.