Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Samantha
The test sits on the edge of the sink, two faint pink lines staring up like they know something I don’t. Accusation. Promise. I can’t decide which.
It’s been six weeks since that night. Six weeks since I let myself believe in something that felt too good to be temporary.
Nick’s touch still lingers when I think about it.
The rough drag of his hands and the low sound he made when he breathed against my neck play over in my mind.
He’d looked at me like I was the only real thing in the world.
And then he was gone. No note. No number. Just the smell of his cologne on my pillow and the kind of silence that settles in your chest and refuses to leave.
What had I expected? A relationship? A phone number at least? We barely knew each other. A few conversations at the bakery, some electric tension that could've powered the whole town, and one night of the most intense connection I've ever felt with another human being.
That's it. That's all it was supposed to be.
I pick up the test, turn it over, as if the answer might change if I look at it from a different angle. It doesn't.
The thing is, as much as I tell myself it was just a fling, just one night of spectacular, life-altering sex with a stranger, I can’t shake the feeling that it was more.
Something in the way he looked at me, like he saw past every wall I’d carefully built.
Something in the way our bodies fit together, like puzzle pieces that had been wandering lost until that moment.
God, listen to me. I sound like one of those romance novels Ella's always trying to get me to read.
Except romance novels don't usually end with the heroine staring at a positive pregnancy test while the hero is nowhere to be found, do they?
One time. We had sex one time, and now I'm pregnant. This is the kind of thing that only happens in books and movies, right? Not to practical, responsible, thinks-three-steps-ahead Samantha Baylor. Not to the woman who plans her week down to the minute and color-codes her calendar.
But here I am, evidence quite literally in hand.
I set the test down, grip the edge of the sink once again, and study my reflection.
Same dark eyes, same face that's looked back at me for twenty-eight years.
But something's different now. Something's shifting beneath the surface, rearranging itself into a new configuration I don't quite recognize yet.
There's no question about what I'm going to do. The decision settled into my bones the moment I saw those two lines, solid and certain as gravity. I'm keeping this baby. Even if I have to do it alone, and it's very much looking like I will.
I have no idea how to contact Nick. No last name, no phone number, no address. It's like he vanished into thin air, leaving me with nothing but memories that feel too vivid to be real and a growing life inside me that's very, very real.
I've thought of him constantly since that night. Every time the bakery door opens, my heart does this stupid, hopeful leap. Every time I see someone tall with silver hair walking down Main Street, I have to stop myself from running after them like some desperate heroine in a melodrama.
And now I'll have to stare at a tiny version of him for the rest of my life. Those same intense eyes looking up at me from a bassinet, asking questions I don't know how to answer.
Where's my father? Why did he leave? Didn't he want us?
I splash cold water on my face, trying to wash away the sting behind my eyes.
I can do this. I've always been strong. Independent. The girl who moved across the country and opened her own business at twenty-five. The woman who survived a bad breakup and came out stronger on the other side.
I can do this.
I have to.
By the time I make it downstairs to The Bluebell Bakery, I've almost convinced myself I'm fine. That this is just another challenge to overcome, another item to add to my ever-growing to-do list. Get flour. Order more peppermint extract. Grow a human being inside my body.
No big deal.
The morning rush keeps me busy enough that I almost forget about the test wrapped in tissue paper on the bathroom counter.
Almost. But every time I lean over to pull a tray from the oven, there's this flutter in my stomach.
Too early to be the baby, probably just nerves.
That flutter reminds me that everything's changed.
I'm arranging lemon cookies in the display case when the bell above the door chimes. I don't have to look up to know it's Ella. She has this presence, a kind of chaotic energy that precedes her into every room.
"Morning, sunshine!" Her voice is too cheerful for nine AM, but that's Ella.
She's probably already on her second coffee and third existential thought of the day.
"I brought reinforcements." She holds up a paper bag from Laney's diner.
"Bacon sandwiches, because I dreamed about them last night and. .."
She stops mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as she studies me across the counter.
"What?" I try for casual, but even I can hear the strain in my voice.
"Something's different." She sets the bag down slowly, like she's approaching a skittish animal. "Your aura is... weird."
"My aura is fine." I turn back to the cookies, arranging them with more concentration than they require. "Besides, I don't have an aura. We've been over this."
"Everyone has an aura, Sam. Yours is usually this lovely shade of... wait, are you pregnant?"
My hand freezes mid-reach for another cookie. "What? No. That's... how would you even..."
"Oh, my God, you are!" Ella rushes around the counter, invading my space in that way only she can get away with. "I can see it. There's this... glow. No, not a glow, more like a shimmer? Like you're vibrating at a slightly different frequency than the rest of..."
"I'm pregnant." The words burst out before I can stop them, and suddenly I'm crying, right there in the middle of my bakery with a tray of iced cookies watching me fall apart.
Ella doesn't say anything for a moment. She just pulls me into a hug that smells like jasmine and coffee and home.
"It's Nick's," I whisper against her shoulder. "Nick, who just... disappeared. And I have no way to find him, and I'm going to be a single mom, and I don't even know what I'm doing, and..."
"Hey, hey." Ella pulls back, gripping my shoulders and forcing me to meet her eyes. "We're going to get through this. You and me. You're not alone, okay? You're never alone."
I nod, swiping at my tears with the back of my hand. "I'm keeping it."
"Of course you are." She smiles, fierce and protective. "And we're going to figure it out. All of it. Together." Her expression darkens slightly. "But if I ever see Nick again? I'm going to kill him. I don't care how big and strong and muscular he is. I'll find a way."
I groan, dropping my forehead to her shoulder. "Did you have to remind me? Now I'm thinking about his arms again."
"Sorry." She squeezes me once more before releasing me. "But seriously, what kind of guy just vanishes? It's so..."
The bell chimes again, interrupting Ella's rant. An elderly woman I've never seen before shuffles in.
"I'll get it," Ella murmurs, giving me a moment to collect myself.
But something makes me step forward instead. "No, I've got it."
The woman approaches the counter, and before she can speak, words spill from my mouth. Words I didn't plan, didn't think about.
"You want the apple turnover," I hear myself say, my voice strange and distant. "Warmed, with a small hot chocolate. Not too hot. And you'd like it in a to-go bag because you're taking it to your husband at the hospital. He's been asking for something sweet, something that reminds him of home."
The woman's eyes widen, her hand flying to her chest. "How did you... I didn't even..."
I blink, coming back to myself. "I... I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. I just..."
"That's exactly right." Her voice is barely a whisper. "All of it. Down to the size of the chocolate. Henry, my husband, he's been in the hospital for three days and I..." Tears fill her eyes. "How did you know?"
I shake my head, my own hands trembling as I reach for the tongs. "I don't know. I just... knew."
Ella's staring at me like I've sprouted wings, but she stays quiet as I prepare the order exactly as I described it. The woman pays, thanks me three times, and leaves with the kind of wonder in her expression that makes my chest feel tight.
The moment the door closes, Ella turns to me. "What the hell was that?"
"I have no idea." I lean against the counter, my heart racing. "It just... happened. Like I could see what she needed before she said it."
"That's not normal, Sam."
"I know."
We stand there in silence, the smell of lemon and sugar heavy in the air, while something that feels suspiciously like magic settles around us like snow.