“What if it’s his?” I whisper to Ian. I can’t hide the fear coursing through me at the thought as I come out of the bathroom. “And Megan comes back and insists on staying with him?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Ian tells me firmly. “All we can do is keep pushing forward, Alana—I have everything I need now. I know you love me. I love you. We’ll figure this out together, just like I promised.”
“I don’t want to go.” I shake my head. “I can’t do this—”
“It’s better to know.” Ian takes my hand, squeezing it tightly. “That way, loose ends can be tied up. Would you be able to be happy, always wondering? With Megan in there, wondering too, and Kameron always dogging us, claiming our kid could be his? It’s better to know, so we can deal with it,whateverhappens. I promise, baby, it will all work out.” He pauses. “And I’ll be there with you today, through the whole thing. I can’t be there when you find out the results, but I’ll be there for this. I’ll always be by your side.”
He keeps telling me that, the entire ride to the clinic, the whole time I’m sitting there in the waiting room, wanting nothing more than to run. “I’m not going to leave you, no matter what,” he tells me over and over, never letting go of my hand, and I’ve never felt so safe, so secure, so loved.
For the first time in my life, I feelseen. I feel loved for myself, for all of me, even the crazy, dirty, wild parts that no one else could love. Even the hardest, bitterest, most combative parts of me. Ian has seen everything, and he still wants me to be his wife. He wants to keep his vows, his promises to me when no one else ever has.
He wants afamilywith me. He thinksI’llbe a good mother, even if sometimes I feel insane. Even if there are two other people living in my head.
All I’ve wanted to do the last few days is wrap my legs around him and hold on tight forever. Now he sits here, breathing words of encouragement all the way until it’s time for me to go back. His face is the last thing I see when the door closes. And when I come back out, still stressed, feeling as if I’m vibrating from the inside out with anxiety, Ian stands up and reaches for my hand.
“Come on,” he says, linking his fingers through mine. “We need to do something to get your mind off of all this.”
“Did you have an idea?” I ask shakily, looking up at him, and he grins.
“I sure as hell do. The camera is in the car.” Ian leans down, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Let’s go to the beach.”