Reeve (The Henchmen MC 11)

"I can't. I can't breathe. How am I going to tell him this? He didn't want kids. He didn't think he would be able to handle it."

"Listen to me," Wasp said, full of a self-assurance that always hung around her like a shield. "What Reeve thinks he is capable of, and what he is actually capable of are two completely different things. I'm not saying he isn't going to be shocked. I'm not even suggesting he will be happy about it. I think we both know that is not going to be his knee-jerk response to this news. He is going to spiral for a while."

He did that from time to time.

It usually happened around the anniversary of their deaths.

He got colder, distant. He took long drives or extra guard shifts at the compound. He was just missing a lot of the time. And when he was around, he was still out of reach.

It wasn't frequent, less and less so each year, but it happened.

I - as did everyone else around him - just went with the flow, knowing our Reeve would be back eventually, giving him the space he needed to grieve.

So, yeah, she was right; he was going to spiral.

But this was different.

This wasn't just the memories that would make him go dark for a while.

This was his present reality.

I knew what to expect from his old spirals.

I had no idea what to anticipate for this.

Longer drives, more frequent guard shifts, more distance, or was it going to be worse than that? Was he going to go back down in that hole he had been in before? Would he find it impossible to function? Would he, even after all this time of knowing otherwise, think I would be better off without him?

God, even the thought of that sent a sharp, stabbing pain through my heart.

"Okay, look," Wasp tried again. "You can't control the outcome, right? It sucks, but you have no way to change how he reacts, what he says, or what he does. But no matter what he says or does, everything is going to be okay. You hear me? I don't give a fuck what my brother thinks about this, I am over the moon. I can't wait to be that aunt you hate because I load her up on sugar, and buy her the loudest, most obnoxious toys manufactured."

"And I will buy her every book her heart desires," Reese chimed in.

Her.

I knew it was wrong, that it went against that unspoken 'parent code,' but I really did kind of hope it was a her. A girl. Maybe that would help ease the transition for Reeve, not seeing Mikey every time he looked at our baby.

"How long has it been?" Reese asked from where she was perched on the side of the tub.

"Ten weeks," I admitted. I had been in denial at first.

"Oh, crap okay. Well," Wasp said, putting her hands on my belly, pressing my shirt down over my stomach. "You have to do this soon. You are going to start to pop soon. With how skinny you are, your belly is going to push out early."

I took a deep breath, not feeling any steadier because of it, then taking all the tests and packing them back into the brown bag I got from the grocery store where I bought them.

"Can one of you take this and these," I said, holding out the boxes, "with you? I know I need to tell him, but I need to be ready. I definitely don't want him finding these by accident."

"We have your back," Wasp said, taking all of it. "And, yeah, find your way. That is so important. Do it when it feels right."

With that, they filtered out to get back to their lives.

And I did the very, supremely mature thing.

I avoided Reeve.

Luckily, it was the warm season, so I had an excuse to be outside, working on the garden and the greenhouse, feeding the outside birds, cutting the lawn, taking the dogs on very long walks.

Reeve, bless him, just figured it was due to a long winter trapped inside, being overzealous about getting my hands dirty, taking my outside catnaps, getting some sun.

He occupied his days rewiring the house, claiming that anything that was wired before nineteen-sixty was a 'deathtrap.'

It was a full three weeks later that I flicked off the bathroom light, the steam billowing out with me as I made my way to the bed where Reeve had been resting, shooting off a text to one of his brothers.

As soon as I climbed under the covers, he had turned toward me, pulled the covers down, dragged the hem of my shirt up, and rested his hand on my belly.

"Are you ever going to tell me?" he asked, eyes on the very slightly rounded skin for a long minute before lifting to hold my gaze.