My house seems so cold. And empty. I turn on every light I pass in hopes it will make me feel less alone.

I should’ve told him. I should’ve and I was wrong not to, and I’m sure he’s upset I didn’t.

I’m such a coward.

“Ellie?” Violet’s voice rings down the hall. “Where are you? You have this place lit up like a Christmas tree!”

“In the kitchen.”

I hear her come down the hall. “There you are.” She tries not to smile, but I can see it coming. “What the hell happened?”

“I just needed you to come back,” I say, referring to the text I sent her. “I didn’t tell him. I couldn’t.”

Just thinking about it sends my pulse rate spiraling upwards.

“I need a drink,” I say, leaping to my feet. “Shit! I can’t have one.”

The tears are back again, not as much from the lack of wine in my new life, but more for all the changes I’m going to be encountering. The fear of the unknown, as my dad would say. I hate the unknown.

Violet laughs. “You can’t have wine. Or caffeine. Or some cheeses and fish.”

I must give her the saddest look ever because her laughs just get louder. Before I can tell her to fuck right off, the doorbell rings.

Once.

Twice.

Three times. All in a space of probably two seconds.

My eyes go wide. “He found me quick.”

“Well …” She sticks her hands in her pockets.

“You told him! You rat!”

“He called me, Ellie. What did you want me to do? Lie to him?”

“That’s precisely what I wanted you to do! Give me some time. Cover for me.”

“Sorry. Not really, but you know what I mean,” she laughs. “Should I answer the door?”

I don’t know what to say, so I just let out a low-key wail.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She disappears down the hallway she just came through. My legs shake as I sit down, my hands wringing together.

He barges through the doorway before Violet could’ve had time to open it. “Seriously?” He looks at me with narrowed eyes.

“What?” I ask, the word sounding even more innocent than I thought I could muster.

“You don’t get to just walk out like that.”

“I needed some space.”

He chuckles angrily. “You could’ve gone into the bathroom. The bedroom. Sat in your fucking car in the driveway, Ellie. But you don’t show up at my house upset and then disappear.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looks at the ceiling and breathes, the tension in his shoulders settling only a little. “What the hell is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? You’re really asking me that?”

I don’t move. I just focus on breathing.

“Why are you crying?” he asks, the question too composed. He’s on the brink of anger, I can see it. Hear it. Feel it.

“Because of you.”

“Because of me?” he almost booms. “You’re crying because of me? I haven’t even fucking talked to you in what feels like days because you need space. Well, you know what, fuck your space.”

I see Violet hidden in the darkness of the hallway, letting me know she’s still around if I need her. Suddenly, I wish she weren’t. I wish it was just Ford and I.

“Ford, I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I should’ve put my foot down when you started this bullshit and gotten to the bottom of it then.” He pulls out a chair but doesn’t sit. “What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On?”

“Violet is here,” I say, like that explains everything. Of course it doesn’t and he gives me a look telling me just that.

“Violet?” he calls, looking at me. “Will you leave? Please?”

I glance around him and make eye contact with her. She indicates she’ll be outside until she hears from me and then the door closes softly.

That’s followed by a stream of tears.

“Tell me how to fix you,” he says quietly. “Tell me what I need to do. I hate this, Ellie. I hate it.”

“You can’t fix this. There is no fixing this.”

He marches in a circle, running his hands down his face. I watch his body move, the concern on his face, the palpable misery he’s in because he’s worried about me.

“Answer a question for me,” I say. “What did Barrett want?”

“What’s that have to do with you?”

Everything. “Just answer me. Please.”

“I honestly don’t know because I wanted to talk to you. But I’m guessing it has something to do with his campaign.”

“So he’s running?”

“I think so.”

Squeezing my eyes closed, I say a silent prayer that someone is watching over me.

“Ford,” I say, clearing my throat. “I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to sit down.”

He heaves a breath but does as instructed. His top button is undone on his work shirt, his tie and jacket both long gone. The blonde spikes of his hair are unruly, and I can see that he’s been running his hand through it.

I wonder what it would look like in the middle of the night after he’s gotten no sleep because of a crying baby. What his arms would look like, so big and strong, with an infant curled up in the crook of his elbow.

“You can tell me anything,” he says right before I start to speak. “I mean it. Anything.”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath and just spill it. “I’m going to have a baby.”

His face slowly changes as the words seep into his brain. His brows pull together, his mouth opening, then closing. His head cocking to the side as his eyes go wide inch-by-inch.

He shakes his head. “What did you say?”

“I said,” I whisper, “that I … we … are having a baby.”

“This is for real, right?”

“Yes,” I nod. “I took a test earlier. I know the last time I said I thought I was having your baby I—”

His chair flies across the room, hitting the floor with a racket. He’s in front of me, crouched down, his eyes level with mine. “Say it again.”

“We’re having a baby.”

The intakes of breath are quick and shaky as his eyes start to sparkle with a joy I could have only dreamed of. It’s not like before when he was staying calm for my edification. This time, all I see is an elation I couldn’t describe if I tried.

“You’re serious?” he asks, a laugh built into the words. “We’re having a baby? You’re sure?”

I nod, still not sure he’s processed it all.

“Ellie,” he breathes. He lays a hand on my stomach and just stares at it. “My God.”

“I don’t know how far along I am,” I choke out. “I just found out a little while ago.”

A quietness descends between us as he looks at me. There are a myriad of emotions playing out on his face and the longer the silence lasts, the more unnerved I become.

I force a swallow. “I don’t want you to think this is something you have to do. I know this is a lot and very unplanned, but you can walk away. I don’t need you.”

“Maybe I need you.”

As I begin to smile, beam, even, all seriousness leaves his face. It’s replaced with a look of absolute joy. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” I laugh, fighting tears.

His hand nearly covers my entire abdominal area, his fingers thick and calloused from work. I see the little star on his hand. I move my own to cover his, my thumb pressing against the mark of ink.

“I’ve never been happier in my life,” he says, looking away. I can see the fight of emotion in his features as he struggles to stay composed.

He stands, bringing me to my feet and pulling me in to his chest. His arms wrap around my body, holding me close. There’s so much to discuss, so much to figure out, but right now, letting him hold me is the preferred answer.

After a while, he leads me to the living room and sits on the sofa. He pulls me down beside him.

“I want to marry you.”

“Wait,” I say, shaking my head. “Let’s hold up a second.”

He just laughs.

“Ford, what I said the other day doesn’t change.”

“Everything’s changed, Ellie.”

“No, it hasn’t.”

“Oh, baby, it so has,” he grins. “That space bullshit is over. I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m going to be all over your shit like white on rice.”

I press a finger to his lips. “We have a lot to talk about besides whatever ideas you’re cooking up.”

“Plans, Ellie. Not ideas. Plans.”

I know this is a losing battle. There’s no winning with him when he has that look in his eye. Still, I’m not ready to give in even if it means a fight. I’ll be heard one way or the other.

“Just remember your plans are yours. They don’t necessarily involve me.”

“You are ridiculously adorable,” he laughs. “So, I’ll call G and have him get some moving trucks over—”

“Stop.”

“This is happening.”

I roll my eyes. “This is not happening. I’m not putting all my eggs in one basket.”

“Clearly, I know what to do with eggs,” he winks. I slap him on the shoulder and he laughs heartily. “Seriously, though—trust me, Ellie.”

“I have a hard time trusting anyone,” I whisper.

“I know you do. You’re a smart girl. But you and I were brought together again, this time at a point in our lives where we can use the lessons we’ve learned and go forward. Together.”

I look at the floor, my worry taking over the joy again. “Let’s talk about the together part.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

“What about Barrett? Are you going to take off again?”

I look in his eyes. The way his soften shows me he sees the fear in mine. “Ellie, listen, I—”

My phone interrupts him, ringing like crazy on the coffee table in front of us. It’s my dad’s cell number. I hold up a finger and grab it.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Is this Ellie Pagan?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“Honey, this is Shirley Templesman from Savannah General Hospital. Your father had an accident this evening. You need to come down here as quickly as you can.”