Letting Go

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"I don't know how I'm going to ask him," Simon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat across from Eva at one of the restaurants she had chosen. "I don't know what to say or how to say it." 

"You have to be brave about it, honey." Eva assured him. 

He sighed, "I know, but I don't even know how to bring it up." 

"Well, I'm sure you two have a lot in common with serving your country," Eva hinted. "The pair of you enjoy bourbon. Perhaps you can engage in a simple conversation and bring it up as you talk?" 

"That's probably my best bet," He chuckled. "The bourbon will take the edge off." 

"Now all you have to worry about is keeping it from Kiera." She giggled.

"And worrying about him giving me permission." 

"I don't think you'll have anything to worry about, Simon." 

"I hope so." He sighed, pulling out his phone to check on Kiera, haven't hearing from her since she went into town earlier - the few hours in between biting at him as he worried about how she was feeling. 

He glanced at Eva before dialing Kiera's number, asking with his eyes if it was okay as he didn't want to appear to be rude by being on his phone while at the table, Simon only waiting to pull his phone from his pocket after they were done eating and waiting for the check. Eva nodded in approval as well as giving him a scoff as if to tell him that he didn't have to ask to check in on her daughter. 

The phone rung roughly four times before Kiera answered. "Hello?" 

"Hey, love. How're you feeling?" He asked, a slight smirk appearing on his face at the sound of her voice. 

"Alright, I guess," She sighed. "I got sick twice since I've been here and still haven't been able to eat my sandwich." 

He frowned at the thought, "Don't force yourself to eat. You don't want to make it worse."

"I know, but at the same time I feel so hungry. My back has been aching and my boobs hurt."

He wanted to mention so badly about the source of her complaints, knowing that he was going to give Kiera the chance to tell her own mother that she was expecting. He didn't want to ruin that moment for her. "I'll give you a massage when you get home." 

"I should be home in an hour or so. That is, if Laswell talks me into getting my nails done while we're out." She giggled. 

"Didn't think Laswell was the manicure type." He chuckled. 

"Me either, but having my nails done might make me feel pretty at least." 

"You should feel pretty anyway." 

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