Nor was I leaving until I got the news that the baby was okay.
Hence why I was pacing the hospital waiting room. It seemed to be a small regional hospital’s slow day. No one else was in the waiting room and the passing nurses and orderlies hadn’t seemed to notice me.
Granted, I doubted they were expecting to see a movie star here.
It didn’t take long for Duke to come storming through the same doors his brother had, wearing a similar expression.
He was on me in two strides also, and he grabbed me too—hard enough to have me let out a little yelp of pain and surprise—which he ignored.
“What the fuck is going on?” he demanded. His eyes flickered over my body, as if checking for injuries, even though I was standing in the waiting room and not in a bed as a patient.
I glanced behind him to see the rest of his family entering, all worried. I’d called Tanner on the way to the hospital using Maggie’s phone, and he hadn’t let me say much more than the fact that I was at the hospital with his estranged wife before he’d hung up.
Then I’d been too preoccupied getting her here to call anyone else.
“Maggie’s pregnant,” I said to Duke and the rest of the family. “And she’s having the baby right now.”
Anna and Andrew smiled through their worried expressions. I was sure they’d been through the same grief their son had. Harriet beamed.
Duke did not.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
I stared at him. “Her water broke on my boots.” I paused. “Well, your boots, Anna, I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” she said through tears.
Duke squeezed me harder, demanding my attention. “You should’ve called.”
I stared at him. “Really? I was too busy with your pregnant sister-in-law going into labor. I wasn’t about to wait for you to ride in on your white horse and save the day.”
Duke glowered. I tried to hide my smile but it didn’t work very well. “Come on, babe,” I said. “I know it’s hard, but shrug off the macho-man protective bullshit. Even someone like you can’t change the past. How about you just enjoy the fact that you’re going to be an uncle, that your brother is finally going to be a father, and worry about the rest later?”
Duke regarded me. He was doing it intently, like always. But now, after that day in the rain, that horrible, beautiful and life-changing day, he looked at me differently. He looked at me like he was committing me to memory every time our eyes locked, like I was…precious. And despite how many women thought they wanted to be looked at like that, you don’t. The reality of it was too heavy, too blinding.
“Later,” he said, but he didn’t say it in agreement. It was a promise.
One I felt in every nerve ending in my body.
“To our grandchild,” Andrew said, and lifted his glass.
“To your great grandchild,” Anna added, smirking at Harriet.
“Honey, I’m comfortable enough with my age,” she retorted. “I just went from a plain old GILF to a GGILF.” She lifted her own glass with a smirk.
We all clinked our glasses, they echoed through the room, the happiness underpinning it all was silent but palpable.
Despite the drama of the birth, Maggie had given birth to a very healthy baby girl.
Obviously, they were still at the hospital and Tanner had refused to leave their side.
“That boy has got a lot of making up to do,” Harriet said once we’d all toasted.
Anna smiled. “I think he’s up for the challenge, don’t you?”
It became clear then, at that instant, with those smiles, with the smells, the clang of dishes, glasses, forks against plates, the food in my stomach and the warmth in my heart.
It became clear how special all of this was. How rare.
Duke’s hand moved from the beer he was holding to gently, but not too gently, squeeze my thigh under the table.
I glanced at him. His brows narrowed. “You good, babe?” he asked, on a low murmur so no one else at the table heard.
I wanted to cry then, scream, get down on one knee and ask him to marry me. I wanted to reach out, grab hold of this moment, and greedily stuff it somewhere inside me so I could have it forever.
So I could have Duke forever.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t have Duke forever. Nor could I have this family, this life. I was a visitor, an unwelcome one. My life, my past, my present and future would mesh together to create an atomic bomb and blow this all to pieces.
I’d have to leave, quietly and masterfully, like someone disarming a bomb. Quietly and masterfully was not right now, obviously.
I smiled at Duke, real and true and full of the love I felt for him. “Of course, I’m great,” I said.