Page 144 of King of Ashes
He gets in my face so fast, a predator pouncing on unsuspecting prey, that my breath hitches. He cups my cheeks, desperation etched into his features. “I couldn’t care less about my child’s sex. And I want a baby because I want the physical embodiment of our love. Is that so wrong? To have a piece of the woman I love and me running around, calling me Daddy?”
Tears coat my eyelids.
He rubs my cheeks with his thumbs so soft the opposite of his gruff tone. “I crave to love more of you. And you thinking I want to trap you by getting you pregnant hurts way fucking more than you shooting me.”
I slap my hands against his chest, shouting my despair. “Don’t you think about me? About the implications? That I would carry the child of my father’s murderer?”
He doesn’t stop me as I push at him, but my pain goes deeper than that. Even though he’s an unmoving stone, I don’t stop until the anger drains from me—but not for long. My sorrow is a bottomless well.
His arms drop by his side, no force left. “Would you get rid of my baby?” he asks, sounding dead, sending a chill to freeze me.
I blink. Is this what the asshole got from my speech?
“So black and white with you. My world is gray, Vian.”
“Answer me.” He grips my elbow, yanking me to his chest, where his heart pounds a merciless rhythm. I am afraid it will explode any moment now.
Say yes. Lie, and then my ordeal would end.
I wish my cruelty would overshadow my love for him.
I wish my hatred would surpass the small wonder growing inside of me.
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“No?” he seeks my eyes as if to detect the potential lie.
“I will love it despite what you did to me, despite what has transpired between us.”
“What I did to you?” he asks hoarsely. “What I did to you?” he repeats in a trance, lost in thought. “You found me guilty long before I could plead my case.”
“Your sins have grown worse. There’s no absolving the wicked, Vian. Love is not an excuse,” I murmur and disappear inside, thinking I will lose it any second and simply dissolve inhis arms, asking him to make me forget. If that isn’t ironic, I don’t know what is.
Fighting my love for him goes against my nature, and it will split me apart.
I have a baby to think about.
33
VIAN
My suspicion is confirmed, erasing my anger. She’s pregnant. Otherwise, she would have taken the test just to spite me.
It takes everything in me not to shout at the top of my lungs, happiness spreading through every desolate chamber of my heart. I am a father. She is carrying my baby. I got her pregnant. It’s irrelevant when it happened or that it isn’t how I envisioned it. I am simply delighted that it did.
It’s been three days, and I notice her taking another prenatal vitamin. The secrecy threatens to sabotage my joy. I wished for us to be in a good place, looking forward to our future together.
“For my anemia.”
“For your anemia,” I say, glancing at her belly.
How far along is she? Is everything all right?
She wishes to pretend, and I let her. Her emotions are all over the place, and I just want to be there for her like a silent sentinel—protecting her, caring for her, and tending to her needs.
I imagine her round belly when she won’t be able to hide the evidence. I planted the seed of love, and she’s growing my obsession with each passing second.
That’s why I keep my mouth shut, not revealing the involvement of her father, whom she put on such a pedestal, I would love nothing more than to drag him down. He doesn’t deserve her complete trust and unwavering love.
