Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“I’m pregnant.”
I waited for the shock to change the steady look in his gaze, to churn the ocean blue waters into a storm of surprise, confusion, disbelief, resistance. Instead, I was the one who was shocked when relief crossed his face. “I know. I was just waiting for you to tell me.”
“You know? How?” Had Fletcher told him? I couldn’t imagine what purpose that would serve, unless Fletcher thought Julian was like him and the revelation would send him running for the hills.
“Landon.”
I blinked, waiting for the rest.
Only now did Julian’s expression slide into uneasiness. “I was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He has connections.”
“To my doctor?” But I got the picture. Or rather, I assumed Julian had gotten a picture, same as I had. I stared at him, half outraged, half amused. All this secrecy and skulking around, like we were in some sort of spy caper. It was absurd. “So you know,” I said slowly. “And what do you think?”
I didn’t have to brace myself. His answer was all over his face. “I think,” he said slowly, “it’s the best news I’ve ever heard in my fucking life.”
A small smile curved my lips as his joy radiated out and permeated the air around both of us. I felt warmed by it. The peace that had already taken root grew and grew until it drove out all the thorns and brambles that had gathered between us in the last few weeks. The shadows that had always been there as a result of my lies lightened and disappeared in the face of its fierce glow. “You’re going to be a father,” I murmured.
“That’s not all I’m going to be.” Julian finally reached for me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. “I’m going to be there for everything, Willow. With this baby, and with you, and that’s how it’s going to be.”
That’s how it’s going to be. The simplicity of it, the enormity of it, was overwhelming. His arms were a cage around me, but suddenly I felt looser and lighter than I ever had. Like I could have floated away if he hadn’t been holding onto me. Finally, the hooks that the past had sunk into me even before I was born had come loose. The long shadow that Fletcher had cast over every aspect of my life disappeared. My desperate belief that if I wasn’t careful, if I wasn’t vigilant enough, history would repeat itself was finally disproved. I’d done everything required to fall into its trap–except for one thing. My mother had fallen in love with the wrong man.
I had fallen in love with the right one.
And I hadn’t even told him yet.
I opened my mouth, but before I could, Julian said fiercely, “I hope you’ve figured it out by now, Willow James. I’m in love with you.”
Tears sprang into my eyes. “That’s what I was about to say,” I managed, even as my throat closed with emotion.
“Good, then we’re finally on the same page.” Julian’s eyes glittered down into mine. “Now there’s only one thing left to do.”
I tilted my head in confusion. Only one? I had a million things running through my head. We had to figure out where to live. We had to tell our families. We had to control the narrative on this so it didn’t hit the tabloids with a splash. But when I began listing all of these things to Julian, he cut me off with a hard kiss.
“No, there’s only one.”
“I give up,” I said, wanting to be exasperated by his nonchalance, but his kiss had the desired effect. If he said none of the rest mattered, I was too in love with him to disagree. “What’s the one thing?”
“We have to change your last name,” he said with a possessive glint in his eye. “You’re mine now.”
I lost my breath.
Julian cocked an eyebrow, clearly wondering if I was going to argue.
Instead, I kissed him.
He was right. I was his, and he was mine.
Forever.
EPILOGUE
Principal photography for All the Dying Light wrapped the day our daughter, Lydia, was born. It felt like fate, somehow. The end of the movie that had brought Willow and I together coincided with the beginning of everything. I looked down into her tiny, pink face. Her eyes were already gray green, just like her mother’s, but they were closed now. Her eyelashes were tiny crescents. Her fists were balled up, like she was ready for a fight.
She was perfect.
Postproduction finished the day Lydia turned six months old, and I wasn’t surprised at all when Dana told me the movie would be released on her first birthday.
We arranged for Willow’s mom to watch Lydia the night of the premier. We’d only gone out a handful of times since she was born, but neither of us wanted to miss this.