18. Rena #2
“He’s probably searching the house by now,” Chance said.
“I’ll see you guys in the morning—er, afternoon. Whatever. I’ll see you later.”
She left, and Chance perched by my hips on the couch. “Hey, sunshine,” he said, brushing my hair back from my face. “How’re you feeling?”
“Terrible,” I admitted.
“Damn.” He winced. “You want to come to bed? I’ll hold you for a while.”
“We need to talk,” I said, pushing myself up. The plastic bag crinkled under me. I must’ve fallen asleep on top of it.
“That sounds ominous,” he replied cautiously. “Everything okay?”
I shook my head, my throat so tight I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to speak.
“What?” he said, leaning closer. “Tell me.”
“I’m pregnant,” I croaked sadly.
The expressions on his face were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Confusion, realization, shock, awe, joy—all in the space of a few seconds.
“You’re pregnant?” he asked, as if he needed me to repeat it.
“Yeah.” I yanked the bag out from under me and held it between us.
“That’s why you’ve been sick?”
I nodded.
“Isn’t this a good thing?” The confusion was back. “I thought this was what we wanted?”
“It’s not yours,” I replied dully, the words like dirt in my mouth.
“Of course it is. You’re my mate.”
“No, it’s not yours. It’s from before.”
Realization dawned. “Oh, okay.”
“That’s all you’ve got?” I snapped. “Oh?”
“It’s mine,” he said calmly, which only made my anger flare.
“It’s from when I got inseminated.”
“Okay.”
“Stop saying that!”
Chance paused, his jaw flexing as he gritted his teeth.
“Alice was wrong,” I said, widening my eyes. “I was pregnant when we met.”
He just looked at me.
“Say something!”
“Oh, I can speak now?”
I glared.
“What do you want me to say, Rena?” he asked, lifting his hands, palms up. “This isn’t how I thought you’d tell me you were pregnant. I thought it would be a happy thing.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not really happy news.”
“Why the hell not?”
“It’s not yours!”
“The fuck it isn’t,” he shouted, rising to his feet. He paced away, shaking out his hands.
“It’s human,” I yelled. “I have a human baby inside me.”
“You have my baby inside you.” He pointed at my stomach.
“Why do you keep saying that?”
“Because you’re my mate,” he yelled, tossing his hands up. “So that is my baby.”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“I say it does!”
“Well, you don’t get to just decide that.”
“Says who?”
“Why are you acting like a lunatic?”
“Me?” he asked, raising his eyebrows as he pointed at himself. “I’m acting like a lunatic?” He sighed and ran a hand down his beard. “Baby, what am I missing here? Because I cannot figure it out.”
“I’m carrying a human baby,” I told him slowly. “A mortal human—” I couldn’t get the word out before I started to cry.
“Oh,” he breathed, his face falling. “Oh, Gods.”
“It’s going to die,” I sobbed. “My baby is going to die.”
“No, it’s not,” he said, scooping me into his arms. “No, it’s not.”
“It is,” I wailed against his neck, choking and sobbing. “It’s going to get old, and I’m going to have to watch it die.”
“We’ll figure it out,” he promised, sitting on the edge of the bed. He rocked me back and forth. “I’ll figure it out.”
“What am I going to do?” I sobbed out.
“It’s okay, love,” he said, smoothing his hand down the back of my head. “It’s okay. I’ll figure it out.”
He said that over and over again as I shook and cried and eventually fell into an exhausted sleep. When I woke again, he was lying beside me in bed, watching me sleep.
“Hi,” I rasped, my throat sore.
“Hey.”
“So that wasn’t how I planned on welcoming you home.” I hiccuped.
“It needs a little work,” he joked, a smile playing on his lips. He ran his finger over my eyebrow and down my cheek.
“I wanted this so bad,” I confessed. “More than anything.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“What are we going to do?”
“There’s nothing to do,” he said gently. “That’s our baby. And he’s going to live a long-ass life, and we’ll get to see it all.”
“Yeah?” I sniffled.
“Oh, yeah,” he whispered. “We’re going to see him graduate from school and find the thing he’s passionate about, and get married, and have kids, and grandkids, and great grandkids. Who else gets to say that? We’ll have a front-row seat to it all.”
“We’ll outlive him.”
“Even if he were a Vampire, that could still happen. Look at my parents. But we’ll never leave him,” he countered, his eyes steady on mine. “Our child will have us at the beginning of his life and a hundred years from now.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay,” I said with a nod. “Okay, that’s what we’ll do.”
Chance’s eyes glistened. “Gods, you’re brave.”
I rolled my eyes, and he let out a watery chuckle.
“You don’t want to do the alphabetical names, do you?” Chance asked, pulling me against his chest. “Because I’m not a fan.”
“I was thinking Arnold, Bert, Craig, Dilbert, and Ernie.”
“A couple of those are from Sesame Street,” Chance replied flatly, pinching my ass.
“We have time to figure it out.”
He nodded, his chin bumping my head. “When do you want to tell people?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Reese won’t be able to keep her mouth shut,” I replied. “So probably today.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” I lay there and listened to his heartbeat. “Could you tell them and explain?” I didn’t think I’d be able to tell them myself and keep my composure. I would’ve rather fallen down the stairs than cry in front of people.
Chance and Reese didn’t count.
“I can do that,” he agreed. “Fuck, we should probably get more serious about a house.”
I giggled, part relief and part hysteria.