I snorted. “You should’ve just started with that.”
“Maybe,” he smiled. “How have you been holding up?”
My mum’s beautiful face flashed across my mind.
“Some days are worse than others,” I answered honestly. “Today, I feel calm. I can think of Mum and smile. Yesterday I couldn’t breathe past the pain of missing her, it brought on an attack but Michael was with me so I was okay. Tomorrow? Who knows, I won’t know how I’ll feel until I wake up.”
Concern washed over Risk’s face.
“How are you?” I quizzed. “You look great, Risk.”
He really did, he looked so much healthier than when I last saw him.
“Four months sober,” he said, touching the coin that hung from his neck. “This is the second time I’ve gotten this coin, but I know this time it’ll be my last.”
“I’m so proud of you. I truly am, honey.”
“Frankie,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever done to hurt you. What I did to you at Wembley . . . I hate myself for it.”
“Don’t,” I told him and walked towards him until I came to within a few inches of him. “You’ve already apologised. You can’t change what happened any more than I can. I know you’re sorry and I know you didn’t want to hurt me. I know you didn’t even realise we were on the stage during that moment, your mind just went blank except for what I had done. You just wanted to hear me sing one of your songs because it killed you to think I blocked myself away from hearing you. I know you speak through your songs . . . it’s why I never listened to them before the concert, I was too afraid to hear what you had to say.”
The sadness in Risk’s eyes was haunting.
“Can I tell you something?”
He nodded.
“I swore I was going to forget you when I ran out of that stadium,” I told him. “When I left London, I promised myself I was going to just remove you from my life so I could learn to breathe without you, but I couldn’t.”
He exhaled. God, he looked so scared.
“Because you love me though loving me hurts you?”
“Because loving you is a pleasure I want for my entire life.”
“But why?” he asked. “Why, after all I’ve put you through?”
“Because you’re my risk and I pray that I am yours.”
He moved closer, reached his arms out and placed his hands on my shoulders.
“You are, Frankie. It’s always been you, since I was thirteen. Only you.”
“Have you decided then?” I asked, my stomach flipping. “Have you?”
“I’m standing in front of you, aren’t I?”
“I need to hear you say it,” I lifted my hands to his waist. “I need to hear you say you want me, please. I need to hear you say that you choose me.”
“I want you. I choose you.” His hands moved to my face. “God, woman, I want you for life.”
Tears filled my eyes. “Good because I’ve a second reason that I really needed to know that.”
“What d’you mean?”
I didn’t want to drag the conversation out, so I just said the words plain.
“I’m pregnant,” I said, looking up into his widening eyes. “I’m sorry, I know this is the last thing you need in your life right now, but I couldn’t keep it from you. He’s your baby too.”
“A baby? A he?” Risk rasped. “He’s a he? You’re pregnant with my baby?”
I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat.
“I went for my ultrasound last week and the lady told me his sex by mistake but I don’t regret knowing. He’s a he.”
“How pregnant are you?” Risk looked down. “I mean, how far along?”
I gripped the sides of my sun dress and pulled it tight against my skin, revealing my small, but growing bump.
“Nineteen weeks and three days today,” I answered. “I’m nearly five months. I’m due on the nineteenth of December.”
Risk said nothing, he looked pale.
“I didn’t find out until a few weeks after London and you were already in rehab. I didn’t want to ruin any progress you had. I’ve been struggling with how to tell you. I knew I couldn’t just text you something so huge . . . I’ll admit I was thinking about telling May to tell you but then you just showed up here.”
“Frankie.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Fuck. I can’t think.”
“It’s okay,” I told him. “I know it’s a shock. Close your eyes.”
He did so in an instant.
“Slow breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth,” I instructed. “There you go, honey.”
With his eyes still closed, he reached out with his hands and flattened them over my stomach. Even though there was a thin layer of fabric between us, the contact sent a zing of electricity throughout my body. I whimpered a little when Risk lowered himself to his knees and brought his face to my belly. I gasped when he pulled up my dress so he could see my stomach.
“Risk, someone could be taking pictures—”
“Everyone thinks I’m in LA,” he said, tucking my dress under my bra to keep it from falling down. “Besides, no one from the beach can see us down this far, not with the building blocking us. It’s just you, me, and the sea.”
I placed my hand on his cheek.
“And our baby.”
Risk leaned in and pressed his lips against the underside of my swollen stomach, just above my pubic bone. With his hands on either side of my tummy and his face pressed against me so intimately, my breath caught.
“You aren’t angry, right?” I asked. “About the baby? I swear, I didn’t plan for this to happen. I didn’t miss my pill once, and Owen kicked me in the stomach that night. This just . . . happened. He just happened.”
He looked up at me, rose to his full height, which made me tilt my head back just so
