The bathroom feels brighter, colder than usual, and I wonder if it’s because we’ve just woken up or if the unknown is getting to me also. I stand against the sink with my arms folded over my chest as Siân rolls her panties down and lowers herself onto the toilet.
She frowns at me.
“What?”
“You’re just going to watch? That’s weird.”
I chuckle. “Oh, little mouse. You don’t even know the things I’ve watched you do.”
Her brows furrow. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re sexy as fuck when you’re fingering yourself. Now, piss.”
Siân gawks at me. “W-wha?”
I don’t answer, but something tells me she doesn’t expect me to. Without another word, Siân empties her bladder onto the stick, and as she’s wiping herself, I take the stick from her hand.
“W-wait,” she attempts to get out before I have my fingers wrapped around the test. “My pee is on it.”
Unfazed, I turn my back away from her, my sights focused on the reader. Siân flushes and washes her hand, the sound of her moving about behind me fading into the distance. The dial seems to taunt me, the results staggering like a video buffering.
“What does it say?” Siân asks as she steps in front of me.
“Nothing yet.”
“Should it take this long? Maybe it’s defective?”
“Shhh,” I whisper when the first blue line dances on the screen.
I place the test on the counter, and we hover over it. There is an eerie silence in the room, only the sound of our breathing emulating through the air. Everything goes still at the plus sign staring back at us.
Siân is frozen in place with one hand on the counter for balance and the other resting on her cheek. She doesn’t speak and has even stopped breathing.
A grin stretches across my face, and I drop to my knees to plant kisses all over her stomach. This is what I’ve wanted—her and our baby growing inside her. One day soon, it won’t be just her and I. In nearly no time at all, there will be a little girl with her gorgeous face or a miniature version of me.
I’ve thought about this moment from the second I found her in America, but now that it’s finally here, it hits me harder than I expected. Before, it was about claiming her, making her mine through and through, but this is so much more. Warmth floods my insides, and I can’t fight the urge to drop to my knees in front of her.
Lifting her nightshirt up and over her hips, I grip her waist and pull her close to me. Her skin is soft against mine, her scent intoxicating. I don’t care that there are bits of dried vomit on the fabric or that she’s trying desperately to make me stand.
I stare at her flesh for a moment, running my gaze along her belly, locking every single hair to memory. Bringing my mouth to her stomach, I kiss her there. Over and over, I plant tiny love marks all over her belly.
She’s going to bear my child, and from this moment forward, I vow to be a better man to her and a better father than mine ever was. When I finally get over the initial reaction to learning that we’re having a kid, I peer up at Siân.
She’s tense, uncertain. I can tell by the way her shoulders are hiked up around her ears. She is holding onto the counter with one hand, and the other is over her mouth. I rise to my full height and pull her into my arms.
“Hey. What are you thinking?” I ask.
Siân shakes her head, unable to find words. I kiss her forehead, then her cheek, and the other while pressing our bodies together. She melds into me, tucking her head in my chest, her breathing growing more erratic by the second.
She’s panicking, a full-on anxiety attack wrecking its way through her. Her arms are shaking, everything is trembling, and I try to distract her. Anything to take her mind off things. But nothing seems enough.
“A mom?” she says more as a question. “I’m not ready to be someone’s mom. You aren’t exactly father material either, Christian. No. Let’s take another one.” Her words come out hushed and in rapid session.
Cupping her cheeks, I force her to look me in the eye. “Siân. Breathe. The test is accurate.”
“How do we know? Can’t they be false sometimes?”
“I’m pretty sure you’re thinking about a false negative. A positive is a positive, topolina.”
“How do you know? How many girls have you done this with?”
“None,” I deadpan. “The only woman I’ve ever wanted to bear my child is you.”
“You can’t possibly think that we’re equipped for this. You were raised by a killer—you are a killer, for Christ’s sake. And I—well, I don't know who I am anymore.”