Chapter Nighttime
Nighttime
Warmth from his arms lulled me toward peace. But peace… peace was still foreign, unfamiliar, almost frightening. So, when he drifted into sleep, chest rising slow and steady, I slipped out from under his arm and padded barefoot into the bathroom.
The light flicked on. And the mirror didn’t lie. Dark circles. A faint bruise along my wrist. A bone-deep exhaustion makeup could never hide. I looked like a woman who survived something she shouldn’t have. Because I had.
But then I shifted—and saw something else. The slightest swell of my lower stomach. Barely noticeable. My hand lifted. Hovered. Rested.
“I never thought I’d get a happy ending,” I whispered to the empty room.
Not someone like me. Not after the foster homes.
The hands. The lies. And yet here I was.
With Alexander Hunt asleep on my bed. With two heartbeats fluttering inside me.
With sonogram photos on his nightstand because he couldn’t bear to be far from them. Tears blurred my vision.
I didn’t hear him enter until his arms circled my waist. His chin rested on my shoulder. His voice was soft—almost boyish. “It’s not the ending, Evelyn. It’s the beginning.” And finally—finally—I let the tears fall.
Because maybe… maybe beginnings weren’t impossible for me.