I didn’t tell him the next morning or even the next six mornings. The bouts of nausea and sickness were becoming more frequent, and, worse, it seemed morning sickness wasn’t solely confined to the morning. One night, it was so bad that I gave up on sleeping in bed and curled up on the bathroom floor with my bed sheets and comforter. I was too tired to sleep. Instead, I flipped through Abandon All Hope. It seemed like I ought to read through it properly; I hated leaving things unfinished.

“It’s easier, when I remember I have an equally brilliant best friend. And girlfriend and whatever else we are.”

“You sound like a Hallmark card.”

“I never said I was perfect.”

No, he didn’t, and that’s for the best. If he was perfect, he’d never want someone like me. “You’d be insufferable if you were perfect, Jóhannes,” I say.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’d get bored if I was perfect,” he adds.

Yeah, I probably would.

I propped my cheek up with one hand and ran my finger over the text. Maybe Adrian had taught me too much or too little about reading into things because I couldn’t help but feel that when I read his novel, I was reading him. All his fears, frustrations, and grief were bundled up in this one novel, the final footprints of a dead woman. Of his beloved, dead wife and omega .

Maybe I shouldn’t do this. I considered just disappearing one of these days. Just vanishing. Because who was I to insist that he needed to commit to me? Wouldn’t it be better to be patient and let him do whatever he wanted? To be content with just being his friend with benefits? How could I even consider springing a baby on him? Surely, doing so made me irredeemably selfish.

But in the next breath, I thought that I had as much right to be happy as he did, and I felt like I would’ve been fine spending more time with him; spending all my time with him. I wanted to be part of his world. Or did I?

I imagined being in his house, Angelica and me, while he was off in some exotic place, writing, as always. Nausea twirled in my stomach, and with a grimace, I leaned over and retched into the toilet. Who’d have known that pregnancy symptoms started this early? I laughed at the absurdity of the idea. Lots of people knew. I just somehow hadn’t imagined it being quite this intense so quickly.

And at all hours of the night.

I sighed and lowered myself to the floor. I dared to think of Adrian wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his well-muscled chest. The idea made me shiver with delight. I had to tell him. I couldn’t keep lying to him, especially since he’d really started opening up to me. I wanted him to open up more. I wanted to know everything about him but on nights like this, it felt like the only way I could know him was through assumptions I made, based on his writing.

“I love you,” I say.

“I love you, too. I’ve always loved you.”

Jóhannes flips through a few pages in his notebook and shifts over beside me. “I used to write really bad poetry to you,” he says. “You were the most beautiful and talented girl I knew.”

“Am I still?” I ask quietly.

“Even more so.”

“Will you read it to me?” I ask, leaning my head on his shoulder.

He does, and it’s terrible and cliché. He rhymes the word light too much, spells words half-British English and half-American English, and compares my brown eyes to various grey things. It’s beautiful, though, in the way that good art is. In the way that it makes you feel something.

Was that how Adrian felt about art? That it was supposed to make you feel something? If that was really what made art, I suppose Adrian had succeeded. His novel had made me feel things, especially once I’d spoiled it and learned of its violent end. Adrian’s characters all seemed to know how they felt, though.

Maybe that was what really drew him to writing. Maybe writing and the certainty of it had helped Adrian feel in control during a time in his life when nothing had made any sense. I remembered the uncertainty I’d felt when my mom died. I understood what grief was, and I dared to imagine a world where Adrian and I worked to overcome our grief together. Wouldn’t that be beautiful?

I’d donned my pirate garb and sauntered around the deck. Today was a scavenger hunt, so there wasn’t much for me to do. I floated from group to group, offering jokes and hints. All the while, I felt Adrian’s eyes on me. The heat of his gaze was enough to make me shiver in delight and also wince with guilt. I should’ve told him.

Being pregnant hadn’t changed everything, but it had still changed quite a bit. I watched the children with renewed interest. Of course, I’d always been interested in kids. I wouldn’t have taken a job like this if I wasn’t. I liked their energy, how adorable they were, and how children were so innocent and enthusiastic about everything. Their eyes lit up at every little thing, and for children, the world was still a place of wonder. In a handful of months, I would have a child like that. A beautiful boy or girl. I hoped my child was gifted with Adrian’s stunningly green eyes, although I knew enough about genetics to realize the odds of that were slim.

I was going to be a father.

Adrian approached Angelica’s group, checking in with them. I smiled. Finally, after weeks of effort, he’d decided to really get involved. Sherri caught my eye, and I walked over to her. “How are you?” she asked quietly.

“About the same,” I replied, equally quiet.

We didn’t want the kids to hear us breaking character.

“You haven’t gained weight yet,” she said.

“I don’t think you gain much during the first few months,” I replied, “At least, that’s what my Google searches indicate.”

“Have you told him yet?”

I shook my head. “I know I need to,” I replied, “but…we finally have something. I have no idea how he’ll react to another kid on the way. It might make us closer, or it might drive us further apart. And I…I can’t get him out of my mind. I want so badly to understand him.”

“But it’s difficult?”

“His wife died only a year ago. I feel like I’m competing with a dead woman, with no hope of winning, and I know that’s selfish.”

“I don’t know that it’s selfish,” Sherri replied. “He should’ve known that you might grow attached. It sounds to me like he led you on and then came crawling back.”

“That isn’t what happened,” I replied.

Sherri shrugged. “I just know,” she said. “That if you were my omega, I’d be a complete fool to be so stop-and-go. You have a lot going for you. Enthusiasm, wit, looks…”

“I’m glad you hold me in such high esteem.”

Sherri winked. “What are friends for, darling?”

Across the deck, Adrian was gesturing wildly. I couldn’t hear what he said, but it was strange to see him so animated. He’d be a good father. Despite how poorly he said he’d done raising Angelica, he could be enthusiastic when coaxed into it. He was intelligent and clearly cared for her. He had the financial means to support a child. Angelica could go to any university in the world if she wanted to. And Angelica, despite everything that’d happened, seemed like a normal, happy ten-year-old.

And if Adrian and I did hook-up, she’d be my daughter, too. Maybe I was jumping the gun in thinking about that, but I thought about being her father. I thought about taking care of a baby and her, and it was a pleasant thought. Two children and a loving husband. I was fine if that was my end-game.

Adrian left Angelica and strode over to me. Sherri squeezed my shoulder and left, a gesture that left Adrian looking annoyed. “You shouldn’t have covered up the love-bite,” Adrian said.

“Are you feeling territorial today?” I asked.

“A bit,” Adrian replied. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a little jealous of another attractive alpha hanging around you all the time. She’s around you so much. Maybe I should’ve been more aggressive in staking my claim.”

His eyes lit up when he said it, bringing with them the promise of all sorts of naughty things. “Yeah?” I asked.

“I’d mark every inch of you if you’d let me,” Adrian growled. “We’d soon see how quickly she’d drape herself over you, then.”

“What about you, though?” I replied. “You’ve been here every single morning.”

“I come for Angelica. And for you now,” Adrian said.

“But what if I wanted to hide from you? Where could I possibly go?”

“Nowhere,” Adrian replied. “Because no matter where you went, I’d find you.”

“What if I jumped off the ship?” I teased.

“It’d be a shame to ruin my five-hundred-dollar shirt,” Adrian replied, “but it’d be a sacrifice I’d be willing to make. That might even be kind of romantic.”

Five-hundred dollars? I whistled between my teeth. “How chivalrous,” I replied.

“That means a lot coming from you, Sir Lancelot.”

I wrinkled my nose at the pet name, more for show than any real disdain for it. “How’s Angelica’s group doing?”

“They’re doing well,” Adrian replied. “Only two things left. But Angelica has always been smart.”

“I guess that runs in the family.”

“I suppose so,” Adrian said. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“I’m going to submit my candidacy for President,” I joked.

“Great,” Adrian replied. “I know a fantastic PR woman. I’ll introduce you.”

“Perfect.”

“So what are you really doing?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t have any plans, really. I mean, I’ve done everything there is to do on the ship.”

“I don’t know how you don’t go stir-crazy,” Adrian said. “I’m having a hard enough time being on this ship for a few weeks without getting off.”

“I suppose it’s an acquired taste,” I replied.

“When we do get off, we should go out,” Adrian said. “To eat. Just us.”

Warmth flooded my face. “Oh.”

“If you want,” Adrian replied.

“Of course, I do,” I said. “That sounds fun.”

“Great. And maybe tonight we can…do something else.”

“Like?”

Adrian hummed. “How do you feel…” he trailed off.

“Is this suggestion going to be an appropriate one for children to overhear?”

Adrian’s smirk indicated that it probably wouldn’t be.