Chapter 24

DELILAH

Finally, the day of our flight arrives. We take an Uber to the airport, and miraculously, Vegas security isn't chaotic for once. The doctor assured me it's safe to fly since my pregnancy has been uncomplicated, but I can't imagine I'll be comfortable in a plane seat.

Once we board and settle into our plush first-class seats, I slip on my noise-canceling headphones and select a movie from my tablet. I try to relax, but my mind keeps wandering to what awaits us in Chicago.

Movers are handling everything here, so Derek and I focused on the essentials—clothes, documents, and important mementos. We shipped a few boxes ahead, filled with things we'll need right away.

I've already found an OBGYN in Chicago.

When we land, I expect a driver to be waiting, but instead, Rhonda is there by the baggage claim. A huge smile lights up her face.

"Rhonda, I didn't know you'd be the one to pick us up."

"Of course, I would. You're my granddaughter. I can't let you take a cab to the house." She grabs my suitcase and starts rolling it toward the door. "Come on now. I wanna show you around the house." She quickly wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a hug, but releases me just as fast.

"House?" I ask.

As she turns, a mischievous grin spreads across her face, directed right at me. "I'm sure you're going to say I overdid it. There's no way my granddaughter and her baby are going to live in an apartment building with countless flights of stairs. I wanted you to have a yard and to be close to us in case you need anything with the baby."

"Okay, so what did you do?" I ask with a playful smirk.

"I set you up in a house—three bedrooms, two baths, a yard. It's only five minutes from us, ten in traffic. It's fifteen minutes from Wells' place."

"Thank you, Rhonda."

"Anything, Delilah. We may be new family, but we're family nonetheless, and I'm going to make sure you're okay and that both you and Little Boba are taken care of."

"How did you know we call the baby that?"

"Wells told me."

Derek bumps his shoulder into mine. "Told you this family thing won't be too bad. They want to know you, they're just figuring it out too."

"Know it all," I hiss, but flash him a smile.

We get in her Range Rover, and she drives us about an hour from O'Hare to a nice townhouse. It's way bigger than our apartment in Vegas. I can't believe how much they must have spent on this place, but I'm grateful. The place is amazing.

"Holy shit," Derek whispers.

"Is it okay?" Rhonda asks.

"It's more than okay. It's too much," I tell her.

"No such thing for my grandbaby."

In silence, I gaze at her, a question lingering in my mind. "It's not weird for you?" I blurt.

"What?"

"The baby is your grandbaby, but also your great-grandbaby. Is it not weird? You're not regretting this whole ‘I wanna be a grandma' thing?"

"I'm gonna go explore our new home. You two need a minute." Derek tosses me a wink and disappears down the hall.

"No, Delilah. I love you already, but we missed your whole life. I'd like to be just a grandma if that's okay. You can call me what you want—Grandma or Rhonda—but I want the baby to call me grandma. Will that be alright?"

A smile forms on my face. "I'd love for you to be my baby's grandma. I think Rhonda is fine for me. Calling Jonas dad is something I don't foresee myself ever doing. It's weird to think about. Think he'll want to be Grandpa Jonas or Uncle Jonas?" I wink.

"Don't ask him that... yet. When this mess is cleared up in Florida, you can give him hell. But hold off until then." She laughs.

"Deal."

"I'm gonna go. Let you two get settled in. Your boxes that got shipped here are in the garage. I brought them over yesterday. The movers should be here by the end of the week. They're leaving Nevada tomorrow night, and it's like a day's drive with no stops."

"No hurry. We brought everything we need," Derek tells her, reappearing at just the right time. "Tell Roy I'll be clocking in first thing in the morning."

"Will do." She steps over and hugs Derek, then looks at me, her arms spread. A wide smile spreads across my face as I eagerly step into her warm embrace, feeling a rush of happiness and love enveloping me.

"You call if you need anything," she says softly.

"I will. Oh, does Wells know I'm here? How was Florida?"

"They'll be back in two days. And no, he has no idea you're here. He's going to be surprised."

"Why have they been there so long? Did something else happen?" I ask, panic surging through me.

They were there when she called me almost a week ago, and I agreed to move here. So why are they still there?

"Everything is fine. Or as fine as it can be with the situation. Wells has been considering opening a club in Texas or Florida, and since he was going to be down there, he and Jonas decided to see a few properties. They're trying to decide if he should renovate or build new."

A wave of relief washes over me, soothing my troubled mind.

"Okay, I'm off," she says, grabbing her bag and heading toward the door.

"Delilah, I'm serious—call me for anything, day or night. Roy wants you to send him your portfolio, too. He is interested in creating advertisements for streaming services and would like your opinion and assistance with marketing."

"You'd nail that, Delilah. Send it immediately," Derek pushes.

"Text me his email, and I'll send it tonight."

She nods and exits out the front door.

Derek and I spend the rest of the day unpacking the essentials and getting a feel for the house. It's surreal to be here, in this beautiful townhouse, knowing how much effort Rhonda and the rest of the family have put into making sure we're comfortable.

By evening, I'm exhausted and ready for bed. Derek makes dinner—spaghetti, a simple meal but the smells of tomato and herbs have me drooling. Earlier, I placed a grocery order and had it delivered so we could have a few things on hand until we could make it to the store ourselves. Derek's car is supposed to come with the movers, so for now, we're making do with what we have.

After dinner, I send Roy my portfolio. I attach the file to an email, add a quick message, and hit send. The prospect of working on marketing for a huge company like Covington Hotels fills me with enthusiasm. It's an exciting new opportunity, a distraction from the upcoming arrival of Little Boba.

As I close the laptop, I feel a sense of accomplishment and anticipation. Chicago seems like the right move so far. I know it's only been less than a day, but things are already looking up for us. The uncertainty of the future doesn't feel so daunting anymore. Instead, it's filled with promise and the potential for new beginnings.

I head to my new bedroom and change into some pajamas before slipping into bed. The comforting weight of the blankets and the softness of the mattress make it easy to unwind. I yawn, stretching out on the new, plush mattress. I was a little hesitant to let Rhonda provide us with beds and leave my old one behind, but this feels like I'm lying on a floating cloud. The mattress conforms perfectly to my body, cradling me in a way that makes my old bed a forgotten memory.

I let out a deep sigh, feeling the tension leave my body, but my thoughts wander back to Wells. How do I tell him that I now live in the same city as him? If his parents didn't tell him, I need to, but I still have reservations. He hasn't said a word to me since Florida. Not even a "shit hit the fan, I'll be in touch" message.

It's not like I needed him to babysit me, but is checking in so hard? Frustration bubbles up as I mull over how to approach the conversation. The thought of Wells being so close and yet so distant weighs heavily on my mind.

I wonder if I should text him now or wait until tomorrow. Should I keep it casual or lay everything out? My mind races with potential scenarios and responses, each one adding to my growing anxiety.

Despite my best efforts to stay awake and come up with a plan, my eyelids continue to grow heavier. I try to fight it, determined to create a plan, but my thoughts become more fragmented and less coherent. As I lie here, the soothing pull of sleep begins to consume me.

My last conscious thought is a fleeting hope that Wells will understand and that things might work out somehow.

With that, I surrender to the comfort of the bed, allowing sleep to wash over me, providing a brief respite from my worries.