hides my night- gowns. He is my brightest spot, my greatest blessing. Even now he leans on one elbow, hovering over me protectively, searching my face for sadness, for distress, for anything he can fix in a sea of things he cannot.
“Sorry I fell asleep.” I grab his wrist to look at the crappy watch I won for him years ago. “It’s late. What time does our flight—”
“I delayed it.” He brushes my unruly hair, which started the night in a neat twist, out of my face. “I want you to sleep in. You need rest.”
He disappears under the covers, and I feel his breath, his lips whispering to our daughter. I’ve never asked if he still whispers to her of hope, of possibility. I have no idea how he can when most days I can’t find enough hope for me, much less anyone else.
And then it happens.
A kick. From inside my belly, a jolt, a sign of life.
Grip and I gasp together, a set of startled breaths and broken hearts finding a moment of joy to share. He pulls the comforter back to show the rising curve of my stomach, clearly seen even in the dim light.
“Did you feel that?” His voice is hushed with awe dipped in sorrow.
“Yeah.” I swallow the tears I’m tired of shedding. I don’t want them falling on this moment. I want this one thing we have that couples always want to be free of the shadow of what’s to come.
“It’s incredible.” Grip’s smile, wide and beautiful like a stretch of morning sky, takes my breath. “You’re incredible.”
He bends his head, ghosting his lips over my nose, my eyes, my lips.
“Thank you, Bristol.” His voice comes rougher with emotion. “Thank me for what?” I caress the warm skin of his neck, the sleek slope of his shoulders, the strength of his arms.
“For carrying our child. I know men say that all the time to their wives, but this . . .” He swallows, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “God, if it’s too much for you, Bris, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“No.” I shake my head, overcome that he feels guilty, responsible for where we are, between this rock and impossible place. “Grip, no. I wanted this. I mean, of course, not this, not this way, but presented with our choices, this is what I choose. It’s right for us. Baby, please don’t . . .”
When words fail me, I lift my head to kiss him, opening up just enough to sample his love, to savor his concern. I want him to know we’re in this together of my volition. He returns the kiss with a begging passion that flares into the solace we find only in each other—not the storm we’re walking through, but the one we make with our love. It’s an extravagant intimacy reserved for this bed and these bodies, and like I have many nights before, I fall asleep in his arms with the taste of him on my lips. It’s enough.
In the eye of the storm, it’s a blessing.
Chapter 38
Grip
“SURPRISE!”
Bristol wide-eyes the cluster of women at our front door even as a smile overtakes her face. At eight months pregnant, she’s bigger than I’ve ever seen her.
And more beautiful.
This pregnancy is unusual, atypical in most ways, but that legendary glow women supposedly have—Bristol has it in spades. I beat her to the door when the knock came because I knew who was on the other side. Kai came to me weeks ago about a shower for Bristol—not a traditional shower, obviously, with gifts for the baby and all the items we would need if this was happening as it should. Kai wanted to do something for Bristol to express the support from the women in her life, to show that they love her and want to walk with her through the hard part that lies ahead.
I hug each of them as they file in. There’s Jimmi and Kai, Shon and Charm, who flew in from New York, and my mom and Jade.
“Jade?” I don’t try to hide my surprise. “Wow. I mean, it’s good to see you.”
Things have improved between us and thawed some between Jade and Bristol, but she’s not exactly a fixture in our lives. I told her about the diagnosis soon after we found out, but we haven’t talked much about it. I don’t think she knew what to say. Most people don’t.
“I wasn’t gonna miss this girly shit.” She adjusts her Raiders cap and scoffs. “You know