new one. We’ll worry about it
later.” He took my hand. “Come. We have a lot of catching up to
do.”
“But, David, what if more demons come?”
“Don’t worry about them.” He placed a hand on
my stomach. “I’m more concerned about this right now and making
sure you’re both okay.”
***
When I turned off the water in the shower, I
heard David talking. I wrapped myself in the only towel on the rack
and cracked the bathroom door open, peeking into the bedroom. David
was looking out the window, his cell phone pressed to his ear. He
was wearing sweatpants, which sat low on his waist. From the looks
of it, he’d showered—in one of the other bathrooms, I guessed.
Beads of water dripped from his hair down the toned muscles on his
back and arms.
“Right. I’ll see you then,” he said, ending
the call.
I stepped out of the bathroom. David dropped
the phone on the bed-less mattress. It sat on the floor in the
middle of the room, one of three pieces of furnishings left—the
other two, a chair and a side table. He stepped toward me and
surveyed the scratches left by the demon on my arm. He leaned down
and laid a kiss on my bare shoulder. I shivered.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“No.” I touched the side of his head. “Your
face looks a lot worse than my arm.”
“It’s nothing.” He put his hand over mine.
“It’ll heal.”
“Were you talking to Dr. Gunn?” I asked.
“No. I tried calling him, but his phone is
out of service. He must’ve changed his number. Do you have a
working number for him?”
“No, and Galilea isn’t taking my calls. I
think she blocked me, so I can’t ask her,” I said. David looked at
me with a question on his face. “She’s upset because I suck at
being a good friend,” I explained. “I don’t even know where she
lives. We’ll have to wait until she decides to answer my calls
again.” I tightened the towel around me. “So who was that on the
phone?”
“I called my parents.”
“Your parents?” I winced. “You told
them?”
“No. I don’t feel it’s right to deliver this
sort of news over the phone,” David said. “But I told them it was
urgent they come as soon as possible. They’ll arrive tomorrow.”
I didn’t know who I was more afraid of
telling I was pregnant—Claire or Alezzander, David’s father. I
trembled.
“Are you cold?” David asked.
“No. Just dreading telling our parents.”
“It’ll be fine.” He rubbed my arms and kissed
the top of my head. “They’ll be upset—possibly enraged—but they’ll
get over it.”
“David,” I said. “Are you scared?”
“Not scared, but nervous. I don’t know how
they’ll react.”
“No, I meant, are you scared of becoming a
father?”
“Oh. Well,” he shrugged, “I haven’t had a lot
of time to let it sink in. But I do know I’m happy.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Aren’t you?”
“Maybe?” I twisted a strand of my wet hair.
“I don’t know how to feel except terrified. How am I supposed to
keep a baby alive? I don’t even know how to change a diaper.” I
looked up at him. “Do you?”
“I don’t. But it’ll be something we’ll learn
to do together, isn’t it?”
“Together sounds good,” I said. “Better than
alone.”
Together . The word was like a symphony
to my ears. It entailed union and commitment—things I’d been
frightened of a few months earlier, even though deep down I knew I
wanted it as much as David. But what I wasn’t clear on was why, if
he claimed to love me still, would he get engaged?
I skimmed the room briefly and saw a suitcase
in the corner, the flap open and clothes folded inside. “Do you
have a shirt I can borrow?”
David dug through the suitcase and brought
back a plain white T-shirt. It was a few sizes too big, but it’d
have to do. I went into the bathroom to change and returned to the
bedroom, where I sat on the mattress.
“I’ve got to get something off my chest,” I
said.
“What’s that?”
“I