Page 41 of Calamity Rayne Knocked Up

“That’s correct.”

“Just checking.”

I returned to organizing my crystals into cute little displays and ignored my husband’s skepticism. Hale liked facts and order. If he couldn’t make math out of something, it didn’t exist. The man didn’t have a spiritual bone in his body. I, on the other hand, was accessing my inner goddess and traveling down a fertile path to enlightenment.

Willow had taken on a prominent role in my life since my visit to New York. When she told me she worked with virtual clients all over the world, I hired her as a spiritual coach, sort of like a therapist.

Sure, she lacked some credentials, but she grounded me in a way few could.

She and I had a weekly recurring meeting,during which I expressed my worries, and she advised me. I didn’t see any difference between this and any other sort of coach, church leader, or advisor.

Did Hale think I was in a cult? Probably.

Was I?

Well, I wasn’t shaving my head or running around in robes yet, so I considered it more of a high-interest hobby. And even if it was a pricey placebo, Willow’s advice was helping me.

My IBS—a condition I’d struggled with since puberty—was less frequent. My breakouts had cleared up. And I seemed to have a natural glow that wasn’t there before.

My job was still stressful. Hale was traveling as much as ever, and Elara was burning through my energy faster than a kettle that never stopped steaming. But my stomach issues were calm, and my mood was Zenner than ever. I wasn’t living off plants or doing that whole no-alcohol thing, of course. I mean, come on. I was never going to bethatZen. Chocolate and booze had been my crutch for far too long, and I owed them my loyalty, even in a time of pure enlightenment.

“If Willow sells you any morerocks, she might be able to relocate to a nicer place above ground.”

“Joke all you want, Mr. Davenport. But as the newest Davenport, I’m expected to have a few weird, rich-girl interests. It’s in the gold digger handbook. This can be my first frivolous, eclectic hobby as your wife.”

It still felt strange calling myself rich. Every time I signed into my bank account, I felt like I was shoplifting. The monthly statement was obscene, and my brain still thought like a girl who sometimes bounced checks and regularly paid overdraft fees. It would be impossible to overdraw my accounts now.

“We’re not rich, Rayne.”

“Uh, I beg to differ.”

“Rich is unstable. We’re wealthy.”

“And wealthy is somehow more stable?”

“Wealth is generational, so yes, it’s much more stable.”

“Could you be more pretentious?”

He met my stare. “Your rock is crooked.”

“It’s a crystal!”

“And a crystal is…”

“A pretty rock. Why are you picking on me?”

“Because you’recute when you're flustered.”

I wondered how cute he’d think I was once I saged the house. “Just think of them like jewels. You love buying me diamonds. Now, you can buy me crystals.” I abandoned the shelf I’d been decorating and brought him a palm stone. “Hold one.” I placed it in his hand. “They all have different meanings. This is rose quartz. It represents unconditional love and emits a healing vibration. It’s a symbol of love and joy.”

He turned it in the light. “Pretty.”

I smiled and took it back from him. “I think so.”

I never did well with houseplants. And Hale’s home was already decorated when we got together, so this was technically the first time I tried changing the aesthetic.

“Do you mind having them around?”

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