The Things We Leave Unfinished Yarros, Rebecca (reading like a writer .TXT) 📖

“Let’s hear it,” Scarlett responded, tugging the sides of her jacket together near the bottom, where there weren’t any buttons.

“You could tell them you’re five months pregnant.”

She met his gaze in the mirror with an arched eyebrow.

He didn’t smile.

Constance looked between the two of them. “Right. I’ll just be…somewhere else!”

Jameson moved so she could slide by, and then he shut the bedroom door, leaning against it. “I’m serious.”

“I know,” she said softly, running her hand over the swell of her belly. “But you know what they’ll do.”

He leaned his head back, thunking it against the door. “Scarlett, honey. I know your work is important, but can you honestly tell me that being on your feet for eight hours straight isn’t killing you? The stress? The schedule?”

He was right. She was already exhausted every morning when she opened her eyes. It didn’t matter how tired she was; there was no time to rest.

But if she came clean—resigned her commission—what would she be then?

“What would I do all day?” Scarlett asked, her fingers tracing the raised lines of the rank on her shoulder. “For the last two years I’ve had direction. I’ve had meaning and purpose. I’ve accomplished things and dedicated myself to the war effort. So what am I supposed to do? I’ve never been a housewife.” She swallowed, hoping to dislodge the knot there. “I’ve certainly never been a mother. I don’t know how to be either of those things.”

Jameson crossed the room, then sat on the edge of the bed, gripped his wife’s hips, and pulled her between his spread knees. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“We,” she said softly, her face falling. “But nothing changes for you,” she whispered. “You still go to work, still fly, still fight in this war.”

“I know this isn’t what you wanted—” His face fell.

“It’s not that,” she promised in a rush, lacing her fingers behind her husband’s neck. “I was just hoping I’d be ready. I hoped the war would be over, that we wouldn’t have to bring a child into a world where I worry if you’ll come home every night or fear a bomb may fall on our house while he slept.” She took his hands and covered the swell of her belly. “I want this baby, Jameson. I want our family. I just wanted to be ready, and I’m not.”

Jameson’s hands stroked over her stomach as they did every day when he said goodbye to their child as he headed off to fly. “I don’t think anyone is ever ready. And no, this world isn’t safe for her. Not yet. But she has two parents fighting like hell to change that. To make it safe for her.” The corner of his lips twitched upward as he looked at his wife. “I’m incredibly proud of you, Scarlett. You’ve done everything you can. You can’t change the regulations. All you can do is bring that fight home. I know you’ll be a wonderful mother. I know my schedule is unpredictable, and that I never know when I’ll actually make it home.” If he makes it home, she thought. “I know the majority of this will fall on you, but I also know you’re up for the challenge.”

She cocked a brow. “There you go again, thinking our baby’s a girl. Your son won’t take kindly to that when he’s born.”

Jameson laughed. “And there you go again, thinking our daughter is a boy.” He leaned forward and placed his mouth just above her belly. “You hear that, sunshine? Mommy thinks you’re a boy.”

“Mommy knows you’re a boy,” Scarlett challenged.

Jameson kissed her belly, then tugged Scarlett closer so he could brush a kiss over her lips. “I love you, Scarlett Stanton. I love every single thing about you. I can’t wait to hold a piece of both of us, to see these gorgeous blue eyes in our child.”

She ran her hands through his hair. “And what if he has your eyes?”

Jameson smiled. “Having seen both you and your sister, I’d say you might have some dominant genetics in the eye department.” He kissed her again, slowly. “You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. It would be a shame not to see them carried down. We’d call them Wright blue.”

“Stanton blue,” she corrected, something inside her shifting, preparing for the change she could no longer avoid through denial. “I still can’t cook. Even after all these months, you’re still better than I am. All I know how to do is throw an excellent party and plot aircraft for incoming raids. I don’t want to fail.”

“You won’t. We won’t. As much as you and I love each other, can you imagine how much we’re going to love this kid?” His smile was brighter than ever and just as contagious.

“Only a few more months,” she whispered.

“Only a few more months,” he repeated. “Then we’ll have a new adventure.”

“Everything will change.”

“Not the way I love you.”

“You promise?” she asked, her fingers trailing the line of his collar. “You fell in love with a WAAF officer, which, from the fit of this uniform, won’t be true in the next week. Hardly seems like you got the good end of this bargain.” How was he going to love her if she wasn’t even herself?

He pulled her even closer, so he could feel the curves of her body against his. “I love you in whatever role you play. Whatever uniform you want to wear. Whoever you want to be. I will love you.”

That was a promise she would hold on to later that day as she faced Section Leader Robbins in her office, fidgeting with her cap after her watch.

“I was wondering when you’d come to see me,” Robbins said, motioning to the chair in front of her desk.

Scarlett took it, adjusting her skirts as she sat.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you lasted this long.” Robbins gave her an understanding smile. “I thought you’d be here a month ago.”

“You knew?” Scarlett’s hands flew to her belly.

Robbins lifted an eyebrow. “You threw