She wanted me there

Kian

My breath caught for a second—just a second—when she said it.

She wanted me there.

With her.

To tell her da.

To show him I was staying. That I wanted this. Her. The baby. All of it.

My heart was still hammering in my chest, but now it wasn't just from the nerves. It was from that bit of hope she just gave me.

I pulled back slightly so I could look her in the eyes. "You serious?"

She nodded, eyes soft, a little unsure. "Yeah... I just—I can't do it on my own, Kian."

I cupped her face in my hands gently, pressing my forehead against hers. "You're not going to. You hear me?"

She didn't say anything, just closed her eyes like she was trying not to fall apart.

I kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then pulled her in tighter. "I'll be there, Mal. I'll be there when you tell him. I'll take whatever he throws at me. I don't give a shite. Long as I've got you and the baby."

She let out a shaky laugh. "You're mental, you know that?"

"Aye, maybe," I grinned. "But I'm yours. Mad for you. And now I'm gonna be mad for our little one too."

The fear was still there in her eyes—but now, so was something else.

Trust.

And that meant more to me than anything.

Mallory didn't pull away. If anything, she leaned into me more, burying her face in my shoulder like she needed the weight of me to keep her steady.

"Just... don't let him get in your head," she whispered. "He's gonna say stuff. Try and make you feel small."

"I've had worse," I said, trying to keep my tone light, even though my chest was tightening already. Her da wasn't just anyone. He was Joey Lynch. My boss. The guy who gave me a chance when no one else would and took me under his wing. And I knew exactly what he'd think of me—scumbag, waster, the eejit who got his daughter pregnant.

Still, I nodded, like I could take it. Like I already had.

She pulled back, her thumb brushing my jaw, and her voice was quieter now. "He's not gonna hit you or anything, like—but he knows how to cut deep."

I caught her hand in mine and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "He can try. But I'm not walking away. Not now."

We sat in silence for a minute, her fingers laced with mine, both of us breathing like we were trying to believe this was really happening.

Then she asked, "Do you think we're doing the right thing?"

I looked at her. Really looked.

Mallory, the girl who scared the shite out of me because she actually meant something. Who'd turned my whole world upside down. Who I'd fought with, laughed with, chased down in the rain like an idiot. And who I'd never stopped wanting.

"I think," I said slowly, "that it's not gonna be easy. But I also think it's real. And that's enough for me."

She nodded, biting her lip, eyes glassy again.

And then she whispered, "I'm scared, Kian."

I pulled her into my arms again, tighter this time. "Me too. But I've got you. You've got me. That's a start, yeah?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "It's a start."

And for the first time in weeks—maybe longer—I let myself believe we might actually make it. That whatever games we used to play, whatever jealousy or pride we hid behind, none of that mattered now.

It was me and her.

And our baby.

And we were going to face it together.