I hug my brother-in-law. I feel as much as hear the breath he lets out, long and soft, like he'd been holding it for a long time. Maybe months, even.
When I pull back, his expression is still sort of miserable, but underneath the guilt is the elation I know he must feel. "Thanks, Olivia. I'm … I'm sorry we … "
I slap his shoulder playfully, blowing it off. Burying the hurt. And the inadequacy this makes me feel.
"I get it. I do, really. No apology necessary."
We both know that, deep down, I really am happy for them, even though my heart is breaking a little bit more for my situation with Cash and the fact that I can't give him the one thing he wants most of all. The one thing a wife should be able to give her husband. But I can still be pleased when things work out for my loved ones.
"I appreciate that. I know Marissa will be relieved. She hated hiding it from you, but she … you know. She didn't want to hurt you."
"I know, and it's fine. Really. I'd like to see her, but I can come back later. When she's feeling better."
"It's okay. She's coming up on the end of it anyway. It usually runs its course by now, but she ate some eggs and I think they aren't setting well."
Nash pushes open the door and steps aside for me to enter. I hear the toilet flush and then the water run in the small half bath nearest the foyer. Less than two minutes later, she emerges, looking slightly pale.
"Oh, Olivia. Uh, hi," she says when she spots me.
I walk right over to her, pulling her into my arms for a gentle hug. "I'm so happy for you two." I can practically feel her cringe and I imagine that she's giving Nash the stink eye over my shoulder. "Don't be mad at him. I sort of forced him to fess up."
I lean away and smile at her sheepish expression.
"I'm so sorry we kept it from you. We thought … we were trying … "
I shush her. "I know what you were trying to do and I appreciate it, but I'm fine. Really. At least somebody else is going to be giving birth around here."
Marissa cringes. "Yeah, I heard about the little girl."
I sigh and follow her to the couch to sit. "We don't know for sure yet, but … we're preparing for the possibility."
Marissa reaches for my hand. "This doesn't have to be a bad thing, Liv. Maybe it'll take some of the pressure off you. Personally, I think that's been the problem all along."
I give her a mild smile. "I hope you're right. In the meantime, though, can I ask you a few questions?"
"If it's about paternity, I'll warn you that it's hardly my field, but I'll try."
"That's all I'm asking."
And so I dive right in.
CHAPTER FIVE
Cash
Sophie is waiting for me when I walk into the club. She hops down off a barstool and saunters over to my side. "So, I was thinking that today might be a good day to show me around Atlanta. I mean, so much has changed since I was here."
I stop and turn toward her. "That's not my job."
"I know," she replies, her feathers unruffled. "I just thought it would be nice for you to show your daughter around. Spend some time with her while she gets adjusted to her new home. That's all."
"She's nine, Sophie. I'm pretty sure she doesn't care which clubs have closed in the last decade."
"No, but she'd like seeing this place through your eyes."
"If that's what she really wants, I'll talk to Olivia and see when she's free."
Sophie hides her irritation well. "Of course. Yeah, that'd be great. Just let me know."
"Where is Isabella, by the way?"
"She's in the back watching cartoons."
"You're home schooling her, right? Shouldn't you be, oh I don't know, schooling?"
"God, Cash, give the kid a break! She's just been moved halfway across the continent. And it's still technically the holidays."
I frown. That's true. "And what does she take medicine for? She mentioned something about her sleep."
Sophie waves me off. "Oh, it's nothing. Just a little hyperactivity. Nothing to be concerned about."
"Has she seen a doctor?"
"Of course. How do you think she got the medicine?"
"What's the medicine called?"
"Jesus, why the fifth degree? I can take care of my child."
"I'm just trying to help our child," I bite back, aggravated that she seems so blasé about giving a little girl drugs.
"I've managed to keep her alive for the last nine years without your help."
"Yeah, you have. Without my help and without my knowledge."