Page 141 of Call You Mine
“But what happened?” she asks.
I let out a dry chuckle, one completely free of humor. “I didn’t even ask,” I admit softly.
Ava pulls back, meeting my eyes. “Well, whatever it is, we have to go.”
We.
“Ava.” I try to pull her back to me, but she holds strong.
There’s a sense of urgency overwhelming my senses, but holding her in my arms is settling it more and more as each second ticks by.
“You and I both know that you need to be there,” she tells me, and I usher her to sit, wanting her off her feet, but she stays standing, crossing her arms over her chest and resting them on her bump. “If it were George, or Phoebe, or Jasmine,I know you’d be telling me the same thing. And I know you’d be right there with me.”
My eyes prickle at her words, the way she says them without a semblance of doubt.
And she’s right.
But she can’t come with me.
“You need to rest,” I tell her. “And someone needs to be here with Georgie.” I watch as her lips part to protest, but I press a quick kiss to her lips just before I continue. “I’ll go, and I’ll be back before you even wake up.”
She shakes her head, but she doesn’t say anything. The exhaustion is thick in her features and the way she shifts her weight back and forth.
“Fine,” she finally agrees. “But I don’t care how late it is—wake me up when you get home,” she says, reaching up to hold my face in her hands. “And keep me updated.”
“I will.” I wrap my hands around each of her wrists, and it honestly feels like she’s the one keeping me standing. Giving me the strength I need, reminding me that I don’t have to be the one holding it together on my own.
Because she’s here.
“I love you,” she says, pressing a kiss to my lips.
“I love you more.”
And when the bathroom door closes, the heaviness in my chest doesn’t lessen.
Georgie is asleep.
Ava is relaxing.
And I need to go make sure Auggie is okay.
But why do I have this sinking feeling in my stomach?
Like everything is about to go wrong.
CHAPTER 52
AVA
It’s annoyingthat Anderson is always right.
My body feels rejuvenated when I get out of the bath, my limbs loose, the tightening in my belly settling—but I can’t get my thoughts to calm.
There’s something in the way Anderson carries the weight of everyone he loves that feels achingly familiar, because I’ve been doing the same my whole life. And I can only imagine how he felt when he got the phone call about Auggie.
I recognize the quiet weariness behind his steadiness, the way responsibility is so carved into his soul.
Maybe that’s why loving him feels so natural—because I found someone who understands the burden I’ve always carried, and somehow makes it feel lighter.
