Chapter 21 #2
She walked home slowly, taking the long route along the waterfront. Jarrek was working at the docks and waved to her as she passed. She waved back automatically, wondering what he’d think when he found out. What everyone would think.
The human woman got knocked up by her Cire mate. How scandalous.
Actually, given the nature of frontier colonies, it probably wouldn’t even register as gossip-worthy. People came to places like Tillich Two to escape judgment and build new lives. A hybrid baby would barely merit comment.
The house was quiet when she arrived. Anya wouldn’t be back from her afternoon studies for another hour, and Selik was still out on the boat. Mikoz was with Liara, probably terrorizing her with his newfound climbing abilities.
She sank onto the couch and stared at nothing.
She needed to tell Selik. Obviously. This affected him as much as it affected her.
But what would he think? Would he be happy?
Terrified? Some combination of both? He’d lost a child before.
A daughter he’d loved and mourned. The grief still shadowed him sometimes, visible in the way he held Mikoz too tightly or checked on Anya one extra time before bed.
Would this baby bring him joy or remind him of everything he’d lost?
And Anya—how would she react? She was just starting to settle in, to accept Selik as part of their family. Adding another child to the mix might disrupt that fragile peace.
She pressed her hands against her still-flat stomach and tried to feel something—any indication that a tiny life was growing there. But there was nothing except the familiar queasiness and bone-deep exhaustion.
“You’re already causing trouble,” she whispered to the baby. “Just like your father.”
The front door opened and Anya walked in, dropping her bag with casual disregard for where it landed.
“I’m home! What’s for—” She stopped, studying Corinne’s face. “You look weird. What’s wrong?”
“I need to talk to you about something.”
Anya’s expression immediately closed off, tension visible in her shoulders. “If this is about Jarrek, we’re just friends. I don’t care what—”
“It’s not about Jarrek.” She patted the couch beside her. “Sit.”
Anya sat warily, clearly braced for bad news. “Did something happen? Is Selik okay?”
“Selik’s fine. Everyone’s fine.” Mostly. “I just… I found out something today and I wanted to tell you before I tell Selik.”
“Tell me what?”
She took a breath, held it, let it out slowly. “I’m pregnant.”
The words hung between them, heavy and irrevocable.
Anya stared at her for a long moment, her expression cycling through surprise, confusion, and something that might have been calculation.
“Like… actually pregnant? With a baby?”
“Yes.”
“Selik’s baby?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” Anya processed this, her brow furrowed. “I didn’t know that was possible. You and Dad tried and it never worked.”
“I didn’t know it was possible either. Apparently human and Cire physiology are more compatible than I realized.” She twisted her hands together. “I know this is a lot to process. I wanted to tell you first because it affects you too. If you’re not comfortable with this, if you want to—”
“Are you keeping it?”
The blunt question caught her off guard. “I… yes. I’m keeping it.”
“Then what does it matter if I’m comfortable or not?” Anya shrugged. “It’s happening either way.”
“It matters because you’re my daughter and your feelings matter to me.
” Corinne reached for Anya’s hand, relieved when the girl didn’t pull away.
“I know you didn’t ask for any of this. You didn’t ask to be taken from Earth, or to end up on a colony world, or to have an alien stepfather and a hybrid half-sibling on the way. If you’re angry or upset or—”
“I’m not angry.” Anya looked down at their joined hands. “I was when you and Dad got married. I felt like you were taking him away from me, like everything was changing and I didn’t get a say in it.”
“That’s understandable.”
“But then Dad died and you were all I had.” Her voice got quieter.
“And you stayed. Even when things were awful, even when we were prisoners, even when you could have just focused on saving yourself. You protected me. You made sure I was fed and safe and you never once made me feel like I was a burden.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “You’re not a burden. You never were.”
“I know. That’s what I’m saying.” Anya looked up, her blue eyes serious beyond her years. “You chose me even when you didn’t have to. So if you’re having a baby with Selik, then I’m happy for you. Both of you. You deserve to be happy.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She pulled her into a hug, and Anya came willingly, pressing her face against Corinne’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Besides, it’ll be nice to have a baby around. As long as I don’t have to change diapers.”
“No promises.”
Anya pulled back with a mock groan. “Great. I’m going to be the free babysitter, aren’t I?”
“Probably.”
“Well, at least Jarrek will think it’s cute. He’s weirdly into babies.” She stood, stretching. “Are you going to tell Selik tonight?”
“I… yes. I should tell him tonight.”
“He’s going to freak out.”
“Probably.”
“The good kind of freak out though. He’ll be happy.” Anya headed toward her room, then paused at the doorway. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be a great mom.”
She disappeared before Corinne could respond, leaving her alone with tears streaming down her face and her heart too full to speak.
A great mom.
She’d been a stepmother to Anya for less than two years before David died, and she’d tried so hard to find the right balance.
Not too distant, not too familiar. Respectful of Anya’s relationship with her absent mother, but present and engaged.
It had been exhausting and uncertain and she’d never quite felt like she was doing it right.
But apparently she’d done something right, because Anya had just given her the greatest compliment she could imagine.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of nervous energy. She picked up Mikoz from Liara’s, grateful when the toddler immediately demanded to be held. She carried him around the house, pointing out various objects and teaching him the words in both Standard and Ciresian.
He was walking more steadily now, his vocabulary expanding daily. Soon he’d be running and talking in full sentences and she’d have two children to keep track of instead of one.
Three children, she corrected herself, pressing a hand against her stomach. Three.
Anya helped with dinner, chattering about her day and Jarrek and the book she’d been reading. She kept shooting Corinne meaningful looks, clearly dying to know when and how she planned to tell Selik.
She had no idea.
“Hey, Selik, funny thing happened today. Remember all those times we had sex? Well, one of them took. Surprise!”
No. Definitely not like that.
Maybe something more serious. “We need to talk. I have some news.”
But that sounded ominous, like she was about to deliver bad news instead of what should be happy news.
Except was it happy news? For her, yes. For Selik… she wasn’t sure.
The front door opened and Selik walked in, bringing with him the smell of salt water and fish. He looked tired but content, his skin catching the late afternoon light.
Then he saw her face and his expression shifted to concern.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just—” She glanced at Anya, who was watching them with poorly concealed excitement. “Can we talk after dinner?”
He studied her for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Of course.”
Dinner was awkward. She picked at her food, her stomach too unsettled to manage more than a few bites.
Selik kept watching her with concern, clearly aware something was bothering her but unwilling to push.
Anya maintained a running commentary about absolutely nothing, filling the silence with nervous chatter.
Only Mikoz seemed unaffected, happily smearing food across his face and chirping contentedly.
After the meal, Anya volunteered to handle cleanup and bedtime for Mikoz. “You guys go talk. I’ve got this.”
Selik led Corinne out to the deck, closing the door behind them for privacy. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of purple and orange. The waves rolled gently against the shore, their rhythm soothing.
“Tell me what’s troubling you,” Selik said quietly. “Whatever it is, we will face it together.”
Together.
That was what she needed to remember. They were partners. Whatever challenges came, they would handle them as a team.
She took a breath and forced herself to meet his eyes.
“I went to see Dr. Kelos today. I’ve been feeling sick in the mornings and Chanda suggested I get tested.” She watched his expression carefully. “I’m pregnant.”
Selik went absolutely still. Not the stillness of calm, but the frozen shock of someone who’d just been hit with something they never saw coming.
“Pregnant,” he repeated, his voice flat.
“Eight weeks along. Dr. Kelos says the pregnancy is progressing normally and there’s no reason to expect complications.
” The words came faster now, tumbling out in her nervousness.
“I know this is a surprise. It was a surprise to me too. But hybrid pregnancies are documented and viable so we should be fine. Mostly fine. Probably fine.”
She was rambling. She forced herself to stop.
Selik still hadn’t moved. His dark eyes were locked on her face, his expression unreadable.
“I know you weren’t expecting this,” she continued into the silence. “And I know you lost a child before, and this might bring up difficult feelings. But I want you to know that I’m keeping the baby. I understand if that’s not what you want, if you need time to process, if you—”
“Stop.” His voice was rough. “Stop talking.”
She stopped.
He reached for her slowly, his large hands settling on her shoulders. Then he pulled her against his chest and held her so tightly she could barely breathe.
“You are carrying my child,” he said into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “Our child.”
“Yes.”