Page 118 of The Betrayal

“How are you feeling?” she lets go of my dad's hand and sits on the edge of the bed, her hand scooping mine up and clasping it tightly.

“I've been better,” a snort of a laugh leaves me, my chest aching.

“I'm glad you're okay though, and the babies,” her cheeks glow crimson, eyes squeezing as she smiles at me.

“Me too,” I admit, it's not a lie.

“I want to wish you a happy birthday, but...”

“Doesn't seem right, does it?” I laugh, my head tilting to the side and a sad stutter of breath leaves me and I feel my bottom lip turn.

I don't want to cry.

But what I want, and what happens are out of my control.

The tears roll down my cheeks and out of nowhere, Amora leans across and wraps her arms around me as I cry into her pretty pink dress.

Damn it.

She really is sweet.

Hate that.

But at the same time, I don't.

“Please don't cry,” she whispers and my chest aches. I have so many things to be grateful for, yet I feel immense sadness.

My dad is soon by my side, his lips pressing to the top of my head as he gives me a soft kiss.

“I'm so sorry, Sunshine,” he mutters, and I squeeze my eyes tight as the tears roll down the side of my face.

“I am too dad,” and it's not a lie. For once in the last few months, nothing in this conversation has been a lie. I am truly sorry.

One by one, they pull themselves off of me and there isn't a single dry eye in the room. My eyes fall to Amora's bump, and I smile.

“Never thought I would be bump buddies with my dad's wife...” I roll my lips.

“I never thought I would be bump buddies with my husband’s daughter...” she scrunches her nose up and I don't miss the gentle giggle that passes her lips.

“How are you feeling?” I ask with a huff of exhaustion coating my question.

“I'm feeling okay, six months pregnant and feel the size of a house,” she looks down at her bump, hands cradling.

“Ha, you don't look big at all. I feel bigger than you and I am only 14 weeks,” I sigh, my own hands moving to my small bump that probably does look a lot like bloat now I have seen Amora's perfectly rounded bump.

“You are carrying twins, be kind to yourself,” and she gives me such a warm smile that seems to make everything feel better.

“Twins,” I shake my head from side to side. “Who would have thought?”

“Well, Keaton is a twin, is that not how it works?” my dad asks, and I know it must be a bitter pill for him to swallow. I mean, none of this could have been easy on him.

“They're identical twins, the babies, they don't run in families... they just happen,” I half shrug as I meet my dad's gaze.

“Huh,” his brows raise, lips turned down as he nods.

“I know, Keaton didn't know that either until my scan.”

“And are you happy Arizona?” and I know he means it from the depths of his huge heart.