That night:

Sleeping is an impossible task for both of us. Lucas and I have been tossing and turning in bed, trying to fall asleep, but between all the news and the confrontation with my father, it's not something we can do.

I hug my pillow, intending to close my eyes to get some sleep, but his arms around me and his face resting on my abdomen make me smile. "What are you doing?," I ask softly.

"I love you, you know?" he asks, and I look at him.

"Of course, I know. I love you too," I reply and move on the bed to rest on my back.

He settles better on my abdomen, delicately lifts the top of my pajamas with his fingertips, and then begins drawing imaginary circles with them. "Bella," he tells me in a whisper, making me stare at his ocean blue eyes.

"What?" I ask before his imminent silence.

"I can't stop thinking about your father's reaction and he doesn't even know the whole truth," he says. "I can not stop feeling guilty for everything I did. If our babies were girls, I would also kill