Deception. Betrayal. Mistrust.
It seems the closer Rayne gets to the truth, the more she finds herself wanting to run away from it. It's complex and terrifying-more than she ever fathomed.
New family members, good and bad, pop out at her like a br...
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𝗧wo pink lines.
Rayne blinked as she picked up the tiny white stick and looked closer, knowing her eyes weren't deceiving her, but wanting to check anyway. When she tilted it at all angles, and the truth did not waiver, she let out a long breath and placed it back on the counter.
She had suspected for some time that she was pregnant, but seeing it confirmed in front of her eyes left her dazed—confused about if she could handle motherhood, and delighted that growing inside of her was a tiny human who shared everything she loved about this life.
Pieces of her.
Pieces of Rueben.
Rayne faced the mirror and rolled up her t-shirt, baring her stomach to her eyes. A ritual she'd hated for so long, but now found herself enjoying. As her fingers ran over the tiny bump lifting from her pelvis, she forgot about the scars. She forgot about everything other than the potential she was creating with the very thing she despised.
She knew that they must have conceived while they were in Spain, considering they slept together often, and in most of those instances, they weren't wearing protection. She frowned as she calculated the timeline—around three or four months ago—and felt slightly saddened to acknowledge that she might not show as other women did.
A knock at the bathroom door startled her but gave her enough time to drop her hands and shirt, as well as tuck the pregnancy test into her back pocket before it swung open. She grinned as Rueben popped half his head in and waited for more permission to enter.
With a nod and a smile, she opened her arms to embrace him.
"Hi beautiful," he wrapped her up, "What're you doing hiding in here?"
"Just making sure I look good for our friends."
"You always look perfect."
Rueben withdrew at the same time her cheeks reddened; he captured her jaw in his palm and pushed her chin up, gathering all of her attention in one fluid motion. His fingers spread and laced strands of her hair, collecting them before tucking them behind her ears.
And when his canvas was clear—when the beauty he sought every time his eyes laid on her—he leaned down and pressed his lips to her in a soft gesture of affection.
"You are glowing, my love," he continued, "The perfect model, the most delicate description. I can't wait to marry you—I can't wait to spend the rest of my life waking up to this face."
"And kids?" she tested.
"A million," he answered without hesitation, "So many little feet, we'll be drowned in parenthood."
Rayne let out a giggle and grabbed a clump of his shirt, pulling him in, in a way that allowed her to cocoon in his neck. She inhaled his scent as his hands roamed the small of her back, up to her bra line. The feeling of his breath on her skin ignited life in her—sprouted a future with no bounds—something she never imagined herself having.
