Chapter 44

Nessa asked to be alone while she processed everything, so we gave her some space. I think we both need the time to sort through this as well.

I step outside and head to where I saw Cillian run off to. When I found him earlier, he was pacing, running his fingers through his hair as he mumbled to himself.

He looked precisely how I felt. I was the one to tell him that Nessa did not want to keep the baby, and he took off with haste. Now, I need to know what our game plan is going to be.

One week, she gave us one week. I cannot help but think that she wants this child. Perhaps she needs to know that we will fight to have it, or to feel secure that we will not blame her should anything happen to them.

I was selfish when I asked her to keep the baby without truly considering her fears. If I had taken the time to understand her thoughts, maybe our conversation could have gone differently. But I cannot change the past, so I will have to do better in the future. For her, and for our little one.

First, that small little foot made me feel emotions I have not felt in years. But it was hearing the heartbeat that did me in, causing me to surrender my whole heart right there on the spot. It was one of the few moments in time that made my knees grow weak.

I was careful not to show that though, so Cillian did not make an old man joke. I know that I will be in my seventies by the time our child goes to college, but I will love them for as long as I breathe, exactly as I vowed to her.

Turning the corner, I smell the scent of cigarettes and find Cillian sitting against the back of the house, smoking.

"You do know that can kill you, right?"

Smoking is already a nasty habit, but doing it around a pregnant woman should be considered a crime. Actually, I have heard that it is a crime in some places.

He shrugs. "I'm not afraid of death."

I roll my eyes. He is such a petulant child sometimes. I could hear him fighting with Nessa, and it is clear that he needs to get his act together if we are going to do this.

"Put that out," I order. "It is bad for all of us, including our future child. We need to come up with a plan to prove to her we can care for this baby."

He gazes up at me, disbelief on his face. "You really think we have a chance here, Padre?"

I gesture to the cigarette in his hand. "Not if you continue to make ignorant choices. Proving to Nessa that we are capable of keeping our child safe would probably not go over well if we start off with you exposing her and the unborn baby to a cancerous substance."

He snuffs out the burning end in the dirt before standing and walking to the trash. Good thing too, I would have slapped him upside the head if he had tossed it in our yard.

Sometimes, I feel like Nessa and I already have a child when Cillian is around. What's one more?

I shake that thought off. Saying that would only lead to arguments. We need to prove to her that we can be a team right now.

"Alright, so what's your big idea?" Cillian dusts his hands off on his pants before crossing his arms to lean back against the house.

"I am thinking of a date."

His brows pinch, then one of them lifts slightly. "A date?"

"Precisely." I cross my arms. "One where we work together to make her happy and show her we are capable of making the big decisions."

He nods, but his face says he does not think this is going to work.

"And how would you propose we do that?"

"The idea of being a mother can be overwhelming because of all of the choices she will need to make. I propose we take some of the bigger choices from her. She will be making a lot of decisions with her own body; we can make the others."

Cillian nods, but I can tell he does not fully understand.

"You and I will design a nursery together and present it to her on the date. We will also give her a list of names we both agree on so that she does not have to go between us when choosing. Basically, if we can take some of the weight off of her shoulders, we do. We need to show her that we can be a team."

"A team?" He snorts.

"Laugh all you want, Kid. But when we talked, she said that one of her fears was that we would disagree and cause arguments. Another was that one of us would love it less because it would not be our biological child."

"We will disagree though," Cillian says, shaking his head. He already believes we cannot do this.

"Kid, look at me." His eyes find mine and I give him a stern expression. "She was not afraid that we would argue, she was afraid that we would not be able to find a solution; that the decisions small and large would always defer to her."

"That's ridiculous," he says, throwing his hands in the air. "We find solutions now just fine without her help. We have never forced her to be in the middle of our arguing."

I nod. "I agree, but now, we just need her to see that. Having a child will change things. We can have discussions about our disagreements, but we have to be more careful in front of them and model our behavior correctly. This will require you to think before speaking. Are you capable of such things?"

Tilting my head, I bait him to see if he will rise above or prove that maybe this is not a possibility for us. But it's then that he proves himself, just like he did that night he said he wouldn't leave Nessa for money.

"I do think before I speak, Old Man. It's more fun to say the sarcastic thing to you instead of the politically correct one, but for our kid, I could work on that."

I chuckle at his candor. "Do not worry. In private, we can still pick on each other."

He winks at me. "I look forward to it."

We both lean on the house, gazing out at the setting sun.

"What would you like to discuss first? The names or the nursery?"

His eyes light up as he turns his head to me.

"We can give her a boy or girl option, as well as a gender neutral one. I think a muted green dinosaur theme for a boy and a ballerina pink princess room for a girl. And we can't forget the soft blankets and extra large, plush rocking chair for Ness."

I smile, picturing us assembling the rooms together for our little one. As much as I give Cillian shit, he really is good to our girl. I have no doubt he will be good to our child.

"I like this. We need to remember what she has been through as we present these things to her. I want her to feel secure, not overwhelmed. We should be mindful of holding her hand or making sure that she stays in the present with us."

Cillian runs his tongue over his lips and I already know what he is thinking before it comes out of his mouth.

"I am pretty good at keeping her in the present with my hands."

I roll my eyes at his theatrics. That whole thinking before speaking will need more work than I anticipated.

"What should the kid call us?" Cillian asks. "Don't worry, I'll teach them to call you Old Man at some point, but that is too much for a baby to say."

I shake my head. This is going to be a trip.

"Alexi has always called me Father. This time, I think I would like to be called ‘dad'."

It is a vulnerable thing for me to say out loud. One thing I regret was how formal I always was with Alexi. This time, I want things to be different. I want to be there for my kid with no sense of business in the way.

"Alright, then I want to be Da, just like my father was to me." His face grows sad. I know his parents are a difficult thing for him to think about.

"You only chose that because it is easy for a baby to say, and you know it will probably be their first word now."

Cillian responds best to teasing when he is sad, which is proven when one side of his lips lifts.

"I can't help it if I'm everyone's favorite, Old Man."

We talk for a while about all of the things we can help with and how to prove to Nessa that we will be good parents. We discuss discipline and how we would like to go about being there emotionally for our child.

It surprises me how much we agree on things, making this feel all the more real.

"I don't really care if it's yours or mine. I don't want to know," Cillian says.

"I agree. I will love them the same regardless."

Cillian chuckles. "We'll know pretty quickly if it comes out with white hair though."

I laugh. "Or covered in tattoos."

As the pieces begin to fall together, I cannot help but feel hopeful, even in this odd situation. This child will be loved by so many and protected by some of the most fearsome people on the planet.