“Christ, I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”
“Like what, Galloway? Like a pregnant woman? Am I not allowed to be a little strung out knowing that in a few months’ time, I’m going to face the most horrendous ordeal of my life and I don’t know if I’m going to survive it? Am I not allowed to feel sorry for myself when I’m tired and sore and there’s so much to do just to stay alive, let alone prepare to deliver a baby I didn’t want? If that’s the case, then I’m sorry if it upsets your delicate ego, but I’ve got news for you. I’m so absolutely terrified that I’m not going to put on a brave face just to make you feel better. I’m not going to smile and kiss you when the baby is kicking my spleen like it’s a damn soccer ball. And excuse me if I don’t want to accept your help because it makes me want to burst into tears knowing that I can’t do it myself anymore, and if I don’t do it now, I might never get to do it because I could be dead in a few months.”
Fuck.
My heart flew out of my chest and landed in the sand by her feet.
“Estelle—” Grabbing her, I wrapped my arms around her shaking form. “Don’t you think I feel the exact same way—”
“Let her go, G.” Conner and Pippa appeared in the treeline. They’d doubled back on us from farther down the beach.
I glowered. “Leave it alone, Conner.”
“No. I was wrong when I said it’s none of our business. It is our business. So let her go.”
Estelle squirmed in my arms, forcing me to release her. I hurt so damn much that we were fighting because of the same thing.
Terror.
We loved each other, yet for weeks, we’d silently pushed each other away because of uncertainty and fear.
I felt the exact same way.
My fear killed me every hour of every single day.
I loved her, for Christ’s sake. I loved her too damn much, and I couldn’t survive if I lost her.
Pippa shot forward, her brother a step behind. “Stop fighting.”
“We’re not fighting,” Estelle said, brushing aside fallen tears. “Just a minor discussion.”
“Bullcrap.” Conner strode to Estelle. “You’re crying.”
“No, I’m not. Just hormones,” Estelle joked. “Honestly, we’re fine.”
For the first time in a while, I fully took stock of the fourteen-year-old. Coppery fuzz decorated his chin, his biceps had grown, and his voice had deepened from cute falsetto to masculine timbre.
Somehow, the kid had cracked whatever chrysalis he’d been hiding in and turned into a young man overnight.
Never taking his eyes off me, Conner hugged Estelle. Unlike when I’d embraced her, she willingly sank into his arms and kissed his cheek. “I’m okay, Co. Don’t worry.”
He was an inch taller than she was now and lanky muscles encapsulated her. His brown eyes filled with worry as he placed his hand on her belly. “The baby’s kicking you?”
Her lips quirked. “That’s what babies do. They stretch and move. It’s natural.”
“But does it hurt?” Pippa asked, her face full of wonder.
Estelle shook her head. “It’s strange, and sometimes, I feel bruised, but it’s not like an ‘ouch’ kind of pain.”
The trio turned to face me, united once again to tell me off and cut me out.
Perhaps, it would be best if I moved to the other side of the island for the time being. Give Estelle a break from me and my emotional insecurities. She already dealt with so much of her own. It wasn’t fair for her to comfort me when I hadn’t been comforting her.
I stiffened as Conner pointed between Estelle and me. “Pippa and I are going to mediate. What’s the problem?”
Estelle laughed softly. “That’s very sweet, but seriously, it’s over now.” Her eyes tightened in my direction. “Isn’t that right, G?”
No.
“Yes.” I nodded. “Perfect.”
“Whatever,” Conner snapped. “We knew when our parents fought and we knew when it got so bad they wanted a divorce. It sucked. And they didn’t let us help. They said we were too young to understand. But we weren’t. Were we, Pip?”
Pippa dropped her gaze, scooting closer to Conner. “No, we knew. We were old enough to know why they were fighting and what it would mean for us.”
Estelle sighed heavily. “Darlings, we’re not getting a divorce.”
“You can’t get a divorce.” Pippa looked solemn as if such a thing could never happen. That she wouldn’t let it happen. But then, she shocked all of us as she added, “You have to be married to be divorced.”
Married.
God, I’d give anything to marry Estelle. Even after I’d screwed up completely and made an issue out of nothing.
Estelle froze. “What did you say?”
“Married.” Conner scowled. “Wait...is that what this is about? You guys were talking about getting married?”
Estelle’s chest rose and fell, her black t-shirt straining against her fuller breasts. “No, that wasn’t—”
“What if I wanted to marry you?” I couldn’t look away from her. “What if I apologise for being an idiotic moron and get on my knee right now? Would you forgive me?”
She sucked in a breath. “What—what are you saying?”
Shakes stole my body.