Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
His eyes flicker up to mine. There’s something raw and unguarded there. “Are you ready to find out?”
“No, but let’s do it anyway.” I laugh and take the little bag with me to the bathroom.
I sit on the toilet, rip open the package, and read the directions five times. They’re so simple, I want to laugh. Pee on the stick. Wait three minutes. Read the little window. Don’t panic. Runs through my mind on a constant loop as I do what I have to do, then cap it and set it on the edge of the sink. My whole body is humming now, a tuning fork of nerves and hope and dread.
I stand, staring at the tiny window, and wait.
A minute passes. I can hear Hunter pacing outside, his footsteps heavy, the floor creaking with every turn. At one point, he mutters something under his breath, too soft to catch. The sound is oddly comforting.
I count the seconds, but the lines on the stick start to blur before I hit sixty. My vision goes swimmy. I can’t make sense of the result, can’t look at it, can’t not look at it. My whole future is packed into that half-inch rectangle, and I can’t even breathe.
Finally, I open the bathroom door wider. Hunter is right there, filling the doorway, his eyes locked onto me. There’s a look on his face I’ve never seen—fear and love and wild, desperate hope, all tangled up together.
I point to the little stick lying on the counter, my hand trembling. “Will you wait with me?”
His fingers close over mine, solid and warm. He looks at the test, then at me, and then back again.
For a second, neither of us says a word. We’re just standing there, side by side, waiting to see what happens next.
And that’s when I finally, truly understand that no matter what the result is, I’m not alone. Not now. Not ever.
Hunter’s hand finds my waist, gentle but certain. “Whatever happens, Sunshine, I’m right here. If you aren’t pregnant, I’ll work overtime to make sure you are next month.”
Holy cow. He wants the test to be positive. Actually, so do I.
I manage a nod, swallowing around the stone in my throat. My hands are shaking so badly that I have to flatten them against the sink just to keep from knocking the test into the trash can.
There’s a little beep from the phone timer. Time’s up.
I freeze.
Hunter leans in, his chin barely grazing the crown of my head. “Let’s check it together.”
I nod, tiny and desperate. “Okay.”
We lean over together and stare down at the little piece of plastic.
One word, digital and unmistakable, blinks up at us: pregnant.
My knees almost buckle. The whole room tilts, bright and floaty and unreal.
Tears start, instant and hot, rolling down my cheeks before I can even process what’s happening. I spin around, searching Hunter’s face for a reaction, any reaction, but he’s looking at me with a softness that nearly undoes me. His eyes are wide, the color of honey in strong tea, and locked on mine with this fierce, unwavering devotion.
I can’t speak. I just stand there, tears streaming, breath stuttering, arms limp at my sides. A dozen emotions sprint through my veins—terror, wonder, joy, absolute confusion.
Hunter doesn’t say a word. He just wraps his arms around me and holds on tight. The force of it knocks the last of the air from my lungs, and I melt into his chest, clutching the front of his T-shirt like a lifeline.
He rocks us back and forth, slow and steady, as if he’s got all the time in the world. When I finally lift my head, he brushes the tears from my cheeks, thumb rough and gentle at the same time.
“You okay?” he asks, voice barely more than a growl.
I nod, then shake my head, then nod again, because it seems like the thing to do.
“I can’t believe it,” I whisper, and it’s the truest thing I’ve ever said.
Hunter’s hands frame my face, guiding my gaze to his. “I’ve never been happier,” he says. “We’re going to do this together.”
The words wrap around me as my pulse hammers out a brand-new rhythm, loud and wild and hopeful.
I barely have time to finish my happy-ugly cry before the world flips upside down again.
Without a word, Hunter steps back and drops to one knee.
My brain short-circuits. My knees start to buckle, but he steadies me with both hands, never breaking eye contact. “Oh my God,” I whisper, noticing that there’s a tiny black velvet box in his palm, conjured out of nowhere.
The lid pops open with a soft snap. Inside, a beautiful diamond ring glimmers. It isn’t huge, but it’s perfect.
My mouth flaps uselessly. I try to speak, but my mind is still processing the pregnancy test and the ring.
Hunter looks up at me with certainty shining in his eyes.