Chapter 50
ELLA
It starts in the greenhouse.
I’m kneeling by the kale trough, checking nutrient flow, when the smell of wet soil and mineral water hits me too hard. The edges of my vision blur, and before I can even process it, I’m on my knees, heaving into the compost basin. My stomach twists once, twice, then stills.
For a long moment, I just kneel there. The world keeps moving like it doesn’t know mine just tilted.
And I do know. I know it the way you know thunder’s coming before you hear it.
My hands shake as I clean up. I open the little medkit on the counter. I take the test, fingers trembling.
The little strip flashes pink. Then blue.
My heart stutters.
I sit on the lid for a long time. The world doesn’t change. The sun still glows through the frosted window.
But everything is new again.
When I finally stand, the air feels different.
I walk through the cabin. Outside, I hear him before I see him. The rhythmic clang of tools.
When I step onto the porch, sunlight spills across the boards. Takhiss is up on the ladder, shirtless, patching a roof panel.
“Ella?” he says, voice soft, questioning. He drops the wrench. It clatters against the boards.
I can’t speak. I step forward, take his hand, and press it flat against my stomach.
He stares at me like the world just fell open under him.
“Again?” he whispers.
I nod. My voice won’t come, so I just smile through the blur of tears.
He drops to his knees on the porch boards, both hands covering mine.
He presses his forehead to my belly, breath trembling. “You’re sure?”
“Pink and blue,” I say. “I’m sure.”
He lets out a long, shaky breath, then grins up at me, eyes bright and wet. “You’re incredible.”
He stands, still holding me. “I can’t believe—”
I cut him off with a kiss. It’s messy and salty and perfect.
Vex barrels out of the house at that exact moment, barefoot, holding a jar. “Mom! Dad! Look! Frogs!”
He trips halfway down the steps, mud streaked to his knees, and lands in a heap.
Takhiss and I both burst out laughing.
Vex pops back up, grinning proudly. “They’re green!”
“Everything’s green today,” Takhiss says, still smiling like a man reborn.
Takhiss scoops him up, spinning him once before setting him on his shoulders.
And for a moment—just one brief, breathtaking heartbeat—it feels like the entire universe holds still around us.
We are wanted fugitives. Outlaws.
But none of that matters.
We have this porch. This roof. This soil beneath our feet and this love that refuses to die.
We have a son who laughs like sunlight.
And now—we have another heartbeat, too small yet to hear, already rewriting everything.
That night, after Vex is asleep, Takhiss and I sit out under the stars.
He sits behind me, arms around my waist, chin on my shoulder. His hands rest over my belly, gentle, reverent.
“Do you think we're finally safe?” I ask quietly.
He doesn’t answer right away. Then, finally, he says, “Yes, I do.”
I lean back against him. “You really think this is it?”
“I think,” he murmurs, “that we were never running from something. We were running toward this. This safety.”
I press a kiss to his lips, slow and sure.
“Hey,” he says, voice low. “What’re you thinking?”
I smile. “That we’re finally not alone. There’s four of us now.”
He exhales, slow and reverent. “Four. Sounds lucky.”
“Sounds loud,” I tease.
He chuckles. “We can handle loud.”
And we can. Because this time, it’s not chaos—it’s life. Ours.
When I finally crawl into bed later, the house feels different. Warmer.
Takhiss joins me, curling his body around mine. His hand finds my belly again, protective even in sleep.
I whisper to the dark, to the tiny spark inside me, to the man beside me, to the boy sleeping down the hall:
“We made it.”
Outside, the forest rustles in answer.
We have a home. We have love. We have a future—twice now.
And we have each other.
Always.