I don’t know. Sometimes people leave. Adrian’s chest tightened. Eli had been so young when Rachel died, but the loss had marked him in ways Adrian was still discovering. Vivian’s not going anywhere. She’s part of our family now. You promise? I promise. Eli nodded, satisfied, and went back to sorting screws.
But Adrian sat there for a long moment, staring at the half-assembled crib, and wondered if he had any right to make promises about the future. By August, Vivian was 6 months pregnant and visibly showing. She’d cut back her hours at work, delegating more to her team, though she still insisted on attending board meetings and reviewing major decisions.
Margaret Chen had backed off after Vivian tore into her over the phone, but the rest of the board watched Adrian with thinly veiled suspicion whenever he showed up at company events. They think I’m using you, Adrian said after one particularly uncomfortable fundraiser where he’d spent 2 hours being sized up by billionaires in tuxedos.
I know what they think. I don’t care. You should care. These are your colleagues, your friends. Vivian laughed bitterly. They’re not my friends. They’re people I do business with. There’s a difference. Still, I don’t want to make your life harder. You’re not making it harder. You’re making it bearable. She took his hand.
Before you, I was just going through the motions. Now I have something to look forward to. That’s worth more than their approval. Adrian wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was walking through a world he didn’t belong in. He was an appliance repairman dating a billionaire.
It sounded like the setup to a bad joke. And every time someone at one of Vivian’s events asked what he did for a living, he saw the flicker of condescension in their eyes. The unspoken question of what someone like her was doing with someone like him. But then he’d come home to the house they’d built together, find Vivian and Eli cooking dinner in the kitchen, and none of the rest of it mattered.
This was real. This was his. The anatomy scan at 20 weeks confirmed what they’d suspected. They were having a girl. Vivian cried through the entire appointment, and Adrian held her hand while the technician showed them images of tiny fingers, tiny toes, a perfect little face. They decided to name her Emma, after Vivian’s daughter.
Adrian had worried it might be too painful, but Vivian insisted. “I want to honor her,” she said. “I want this Emma to know about the sister who came before her. I don’t want to pretend that part of my life didn’t happen.” Are you sure? I’m sure. Emma wasn’t just my past. She’s part of who I am.
And this baby deserves to know that. Adrian understood. Rachel was part of who he was, too, woven into every decision he made, every fear he carried. You didn’t erase the people you’d lost. You carried them with you. They told Eli about the name that evening over dinner. He thought about it for a minute, then nodded seriously.
“That’s a good name,” he said. “Emma, I like it.” “You’re okay with it?” Vivian asked. “Yeah. I think it’s cool that she’s named after someone important.” Vivian’s eyes welled up, and she reached across the table to squeeze Eli’s hand. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Eli squirmed, uncomfortable with the emotion, but he squeezed back.
As the pregnancy progressed, the dynamic in the house shifted. Eli became fiercely protective of Vivian, insisting she sit down when she looked tired, bringing her water without being asked, talking to her stomach when he thought no one was watching. Adrian would find him in the nursery sometimes, arranging stuffed animals or reading picture books out loud to prepare.
“You’re going to be a great big brother,” Adrian told him one night. “I’m practicing. I want to be ready.” “You’re already ready, kid.” But Adrian wasn’t sure he was ready himself. The closer they got to Emma’s due date, the more real it became, and the more the memories of Eli’s birth surfaced. Rachel had labored for 18 hours, exhausted and in pain, and Adrian had felt so helpless watching her suffer.
He’d promised himself he’d be stronger this time, more present, but the fear was already building. Vivian sensed it. She always did. “Talk to me,” she said one night as they lay in bed, her head on his chest, his hand resting on her stomach feeling Emma kick. “About what?” “About whatever’s keeping you up at night.
You’ve been tossing and turning for an hour.” Adrian sighed. “I keep thinking about when Eli was born, how scared I was, how Rachel almost didn’t make it because of complications. What if that happens again?” “It won’t.” “You don’t know that.” “No, but I’m healthy. The baby’s healthy. The doctors aren’t worried.” “The doctors weren’t worried with Rachel, either, until they were.
” Vivian rolled over to face him. “Adrian, I can’t promise you nothing will go wrong, but I can promise I’m going to fight like hell to be okay, for you, for Emma, for Eli. I’m not going anywhere.” “That’s what Rachel said.” The words came out harsher than he intended, and Vivian flinched. Adrian immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry,” he said.
