Page 89 of Ready or Knot
“You’re alright?” she asks after a minute, her eyes scanning me twice before settling on my gaze. When I nod, she looses a deep breath that has me jealous, and a tension leaves her body, her shoulders relaxing.
“This was definitely not what I had planned for the week,” I admit, and she rolls her eyes. “Sorry your trip got messed up.”
She snorts, waving her hand in dismissal. “You’ve got stitches all over and a tube sticking out of your ribs, and you’re apologizing to me? Fae, you’re ridiculous sometimes.”
I don’t take back my apology. I do feel bad that her trip has gotten thrown off because of this whole mess.
Logan feeds me the last bit from the takeout container and then stands, pressing a kiss to my temple. Jude kisses my knuckles, and Carter palms my ankle through the blanket, his touch warm despite the barrier.
“We’ll be back, little Omega,” he murmurs, and I nod, holding out my hand for him. He laces our fingers together for a heartbeat, and then the three of them leave, shutting the door quietly behind them.
“What’s wrong?” Violet asks the moment we’re alone, her eyes sharpening on me as she takes over Logan’s seat. “You have that vacant look that you’d get every time we had to do something unsavory as R.A.s at school. Like when that freshman got kicked out.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. Shooting pain races up my chest, and I grimace, palming my sternum as if it will help. “Shit, Vi. I’m not supposed to laugh.”
She frowns. “That wasn’t supposed to be funny, so that’s on you, not me.” She touches her industrial piercing before asking me about what’s bothering me again.
I expect her to be shocked when I tell her, but instead of her eyes widening and her shoulders dropping, her gaze grows keen, her head tipping a bit like she’s thinking hard about something.
“Talk me through it,” she says after a bit.
I frown, and she sighs.
“You’re conflicted,” she says, “which isn’t abnormal. So talk through it. What part of it is keeping it from being an immediate yes? Not a simple yes, but a confident one.”
“It just feels like there’s things I’d be giving up, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
She nods. “Like what?”
For the life of me, I can’t remember anything beyond the photography degree. When I tell her, her lips purse.
“Could you opt for something online? Or what about hiring a nanny?”
“I...don’t know,” I say after a while. “Why are you trying to talk me into keeping it when you’re so staunchly against having kids?”
She pats my leg. “I am so confidently childfree because I had this conversation. I looked at all the options, all the ways my life could look, and decided on the one I liked the best.” She lifts a shoulder. “And then matching made it to where I had to compromise a bit.”
“Kids were an eventually thing,” I say after a bit. “Not a right away thing. I didn’t expect my birth control to fail, you know? And now I can’t even remember why.”
Violet shakes her head. “Let’s make a list. All the things you want to do at some point. You can look at all the things and decide which ones are musts and which ones aren’t.” She cocks an eyebrow and flips her hair over her shoulder. “You would be surprised what surfaces as musts when you’re pressed to actually think about it.”
She says it with an air of experience that has me wondering just how much happened between her and Dominic that she didn’t tell me. My thoughts are scattered, though, and I can’t seem to focus enough to put any of my ideas into a semblance of order.
“Is there paper on the table?” I ask her. She nods, grabbing a small pad with the hospital’s logo and the single pen with it.
“Tell me your dreams, Fae,” she says, setting the paper in my lap. “I’ll braid your hair while you do.”
Thirty-Five
FAEDRA
“Hey, we’re back,” Logan calls after he shuts the door.
I slip off my sandals and set my sunglasses in my bag, dropping the whole thing unceremoniously to the floor. The breathlessness has gotten better over the last week and a half, but the walk from the garage to the condo is still rough. Logan turns back to me, lifting me bridal-style into his arms before I can protest. Not that I would at the moment. Instead, I let my head settle into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in his sandalwood scent, and close my eyes. Footsteps sound from the upper floor as Logan carries me further into the condo.
“Everything alright?” Carter’s voice drifts to me, even and smooth in that intentional way he uses when trying to hide that he’s worried. I’ve heard a lot of that tone in the last week since I’ve been home.
“Doctor said everything is looking fine.” Logan turns around, walking backwards, but I keep my eyes closed. “Stitches dissolved the way they were supposed to. Breathlessness will get better with time as her lung finishes healing. Mentioned it could be another eight weeks before she feels like her breathing is back to normal.” Logan rattles off the main points without missing a beat. He brushes his lips against my jaw, arms tightening around me, and then asks, “You good, Red? Jude’s just about finished with lunch.”