The Price of a Smile

Derek and his companion hurried out past the awning, nearly tripping over each other in their haste to reach the safety of the street.

The glass door swung shut behind them, leaving the coffee shop in an even deeper, more fragile silence.

Donovan turned fully to Maeve, his hand still resting gently on her stomach as if he were afraid she might vanish if he let go.

""Why didn't you call me?"" he asked, his voice losing its steely edge, replaced by a quiet, searching vulnerability she had never expected to hear from him.

Maeve looked down at her worn sneakers, the six-dollar decaf latte suddenly feeling heavy and absurd in her grip.

""You live in a world of locked doors, armed guards, and enemies I don't even know how to name, Donovan,"" she said, her voice shaking slightly. ""I didn't want this baby wrapped up in your wars.""

Donovan reached out, taking the cardboard cup from her hand and setting it on the nearest table, then cupped her chin with his thumb and forefinger.

""Port Mercer has plenty of dark corners, Maeve,"" he said, his gaze burning into hers with fierce intensity. ""But you and this child are not a corner. You are my light.""

Maeve felt a tear slip down her cheek, the first real release of nineteen weeks of fear, exhaustion, and loneliness.

""I'm scared,"" she whispered.

""You don't have to be scared anymore,"" Donovan replied, pulling her gently against his chest, shielding her from the stares of the room. ""Let's go home.""