“Maybe you should back off for a while,” Nathan said carefully. “She’s pregnant and vulnerable. From what I hear, their emotions are a mess when they’re pregnant. Maybe she feels pressured.”
Micah sighed. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know. I’m pissed at myself for not seeing it sooner. I don’t deserve her after the way I acted. I love her, and more than that I don’t want her to ever think I don’t, that she’s not the most important thing in my life.”
“You can’t force trust,” Gray said. “It’ll come. The more she sees that you’re in it for the long haul, the more she’ll trust in the truth of your relationship.”
Angelina lifted trembling fingers to her mouth. Trust? Trust had never been an issue for her with Micah. She trusted him implicitly. There was no way she could cede absolute and total control in their relationship to him if she didn’t trust him.
The idea that she’d hurt him by making him think she didn’t trust him was painful. She loved Micah and it was for him that she’d hesitated in accepting his marriage proposal.
Now she wondered if she wasn’t doing more damage to the future of their relationship by holding back. If he ever doubted her love, it would kill her. It was the one thing she’d always given him unreservedly.
Micah was her future. She knew it without a doubt. She rubbed her hand over her protruding belly. Micah loved her. He loved their daughter. He wanted them to be a family. Micah had always wanted a family. Right now she was the one standing in the way of his happiness.
How stupid and shortsighted she’d been. She didn’t regret not relenting right away. She and Micah had desperately needed time to work out their issues and to find their way amid the tumultuous beginning to their relationship.
But for the last few months, Micah had done and said all the right things. He’d once told her that when she knew without a doubt that he loved her more than life and when she trusted him fully to cherish her gift of love, that was when he wanted her to marry him.
“Oh God,” she whispered. How must her continued resistance look to him? Like she didn’t trust him. That she didn’t believe he loved her.
None of that was true.
Suddenly she wanted to nothing more than to go home and spend the evening in Micah’s arms. His hand on her belly and them talking about Nia and their future. Tears stung her eyes. Micah had said when that day came. It was here and she didn’t want to wait any longer.
“I think Angelina must have gotten lost,” Faith said with a sigh.
“Either that or she made another trip to the bathroom,” Julie said. “Another reason I have no desire to get knocked up in this millennium. I can’t imagine spending that much time in the bathroom.”
Lyric raised her brow. It was nice to know she wasn’t the only one with no desire to pop out a kid anytime soon. Or ever.
“I’ll go see what’s keeping her,” Lyric said.
Faith nodded. “Thanks, Lyric. I’m going to start on the salad and pop the bread into the oven.”
Lyric was relieved to escape the kitchen. It wasn’t that she found the other women annoying, but she was ill at ease around the warm friendship between them. Lyric had no experience with closeness. She’d never allowed herself to have that sort of relationship with anyone. Physical, yes. Emotional, no. And she had plenty of business relationships. Nothing that qualified as an actual friendship.
When she entered the living room, she saw Angelina standing near the door to the backyard, a peculiar expression on her face. Both hands were palmed over her belly and she looked like . . . She looked like she was upset over something.
It was tempting to turn back and pretend she hadn’t seen the other woman. Lyric had zero experience with emotional, pregnant women. What did you say to one?
It wouldn’t kill her to be sympathetic. Everyone had been nice to her. Other than Julie’s snottiness—which, she was realizing, was part of the woman’s natural charm—they’d all treated her like she was normal. To her surprise, she liked it. She liked it a lot. Not that she wanted to start leading a normal life, but it was a nice change.
She took a few steps forward and delicately cleared her throat. Angelina’s head whipped up and she didn’t look thrilled that Lyric had found her. That made two of them.
“Are you okay?” Lyric asked gently. “Do you want me to get Micah?”
Angelina’s lips quivered and she inhaled sharply, like she was tightly controlling her emotions. Then she let out a soft laugh, and her lips turned up into a rueful smile.
“Have you ever come to the realization that you’re an idiot and that what you thought was the right thing was completely wrong?”
Lyric snorted. She couldn’t help it. “Honey, you’re talking to the queen of f**kups. If there’s a way to screw something up, I’ve mastered it.”
Angelina cocked her head. “You seem so well put together. I’ve watched you, you know. The few TV specials you’ve had and I saw a recording of one of your concerts. You seem so confident and sexy and smart.”
Lyric blinked. “Wow. Thanks, I think. But wow. You couldn’t be more wrong. Not that I want to go into all the ways you’re wrong, but I’m glad it at least looks like I have my shit together.”
“I’m an idiot,” Angelina said again. “A pregnant, hormonal moron. I’ve spent so much time worrying that Micah would want to walk that it’s a wonder I haven’t made him do just that.”
“Nothing wrong with being sure,” Lyric said with a shrug. “I admire you for that. A lot of women don’t look before they leap.”
The door opened and Angelina whirled around, a guilty look on her face. Relief lightened her eyes when Connor walked in.
“Hey, sweetie,” Connor said as he pulled Angelina into a hug.
Sweetie? Lyric cocked her eyebrow at the endearment and the obvious affection in Connor’s voice. He was such a grumpy hard-ass, it was difficult to imagine him being so cutesy with another woman. Her eyes narrowed. A pregnant woman who was involved with another man.
When Angelina pulled away, Connor frowned as he stared down at her. “You okay? You look upset.” He glanced over at Lyric and her eyes widened at the accusation in his. Did he honestly think she was responsible for Angelina’s crying jag?