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Then again, I’m not his usual type either. And that didn’t stop him from making me forget my own name last night.

I blink the thought away, but the ache in my stomach remains. I think about texting him to ask who she is, but I can’t. I’ll look like a psycho, going through his drawers.

And he didn’t make me any promises. Apart from the lies we said at the chapel, he’s never once said this is anything other than an arrangement. In fact, he made it clear that after he gets the payments from Vin, we’re done.

Am I nothing more than a convenient body for him to use while he’s here? God, I hate feeling so insecure. But he planned breakfast and got annoyed because I didn’t text him a kiss… andstill, I’m wondering where I fit. And if he does this for all the women he has sex with.

“I don’t know who you are,” I murmur to the woman, sliding the photo back where I found it. “But he’s mine now.”

I close the drawer a little harder than I mean to, and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My lips are swollen, my face is pink from the way his beard kept rubbing against my skin, and my hair looks like I was caught in a tornado and enjoyed it.

And yet I still feel insecure. And that I hate.

Luckily, before my mind can go down any rabbit holes, my phone starts to ring. And even though it’s Autumn and I’ve been avoiding her calls, I decide to pick it up.

“Hey,” I murmur.

Autumn squeals. “Hallelujah. She’s alive. Listen, we’re having lunch. I’ll pick something up and bring it to the resort.”

“No need,” I tell her. “I’ve got the day off.”

“Even better. I’ll come pick you up. I’ll make us a picnic. We can eat at the beach.”

That simple suggestion makes my heart clench. We used to do that when we were younger, when we wanted to escape the tensions of our dad, the tears of our mom, or the general testosterone that always came when our four brothers were together.

Just the two of us against the world. I miss that. I miss confiding in her. These past few weeks have been a whirlwind and she’s the reason I came back after all. I shouldn’t be avoiding her

“That sounds perfect,” I whisper, trying to keep the emotion from my voice.

“Are you okay?” she asks, like I’ve capitulated too easily.

“I’m fine.” Or I will be.

She pauses for a beat. “I’ll pick you up in an hour,” she says softly. “And honey?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for letting me in. I’ve missed you.”

I press my hand to my heart. “I’ve missed you, too,” I tell her, the truth of it hitting me like a mack truck.

And although I haven’t really let her in. Haven’t told her what’s going on, maybe for the first time in weeks I’m ready to stop hiding from her.

Even if the truth wrecks everything.

“Who do you think the baby looks like?” Autumn asks, her face glowing as she shows me the black and white image on her phone. “Me or Parker?”

I squint at the screen, my nose wrinkling. “Which one of you looks the most like a jellybean?” I ask her.

“I’m gonna say Parker,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. “Especially since he found out he’s gonna be a dad. He’s eating his emotions. And he’s been too busy making sure I put my feet up to go to the gym.”

I grin and pick up one of the crusty sourdough sandwiches she’s made. With her homemade bread, because at some point since she moved to the island my sister seems to have become a domestic goddess. The woman who used to burn water now has a sourdough starter called Dough-Lene.

I take a big bite, moaning softly at the warm vegan cheese, grilled vegetables, and whatever magic she sprinkled on top. Lemon? Basil? A kiss from the domestic gods?

We’re sitting on a patchwork blanket on the east side of the island, not far from the clifftop lighthouse that’s my big sister’s home, tucked into a quiet curve of the beach where the dunes rise high and the sea rolls by in lazy waves. It’s peaceful here– just the hush of the tide and the occasional call from a gull overhead.

“Whoever they look like, this baby is going to be beautiful,” I tell her. “And so loved.”