“Are you two still lying to yourselves about just being friends?” she questions with a smirk.

“No, we’re figuring it out.”

“Good. That makes me happy.”

It makes me happy too, which is scary—but not as scary as the idea of never seeing if things might work out between me and him.

“Your dad… is he okay?” she asks.

“Better.” I put PJ down. “I think they might release him soon.”

Her head jerks back in surprise. “Already?”

“I’m not sure. The doctor is supposed to talk to Mom this afternoon. I think we’ll know more after that.”

“Well, if you need anything, you know we’re right here.”

My throat gets tight at her sincerity. “Thank you.”

“That’s what family’s for.” She reaches out to rub my arm, and my nose starts to sting as my eyes start to water.

“Thanks,” I whisper, and she smiles.

“Those pregnancy hormones are a bitch.”

“Yeah, they are.” I laugh, wiping away the tears overflowing my eyes.

“All right.” She laughs. “Go shower, and I’ll see you when you bring PJ back.”

“Thanks, Willow.”

“Any time.” She opens the door, and I leave with PJ on my heels.

When I get downstairs to my apartment, I don’t waste a second getting in the shower, and I spend a long time under the hot spray, just letting the water wash away the past few days.

After I get out, I put on my underwear and reach for my robe but pause when my eyes catch on my reflection in the full-length mirror behind the bathroom door. Turning to the side, I swallow over the lump in my throat. I don’t know when the last time that I really looked at myself naked was, but doing so now, I can make out the roundness of my belly that’s never been there before.

“Hey, you.” I slide my hand over the slight bump and then burst into tears. Of course, I’ve known for quite some time now that I’m pregnant—the test, ultrasound, and heartbeat all made that abundantly clear—but having the physical evidence of the child growing under my palm feels different.

Jumping when there is a loud knock on my interior door, I quickly grab my robe and slip it on before I rush out of the bathroom. Reaching for the knob, I swing the door open and blink up at Dayton.

“Why are you crying?”

“What are you doing here?” I ask at the same time.

“I got a call from Tucker telling me that you had cramps. I tried to call, but when you didn’t answer, I decided to come home.” He carefully backs me inside and shuts the door. “Are you okay?”