Page 78 of Of Oaths and Secrets

“So,” she says, playfully nudging my elbow as she sips her coffee, “you’re telling me that if this baby has Rafaele’s hair and your eyes, it won’t be the most gorgeous child to ever exist?”

I manage a smile, pushing my plate away. “You think?”

“Please,” she scoffs. “The Reaper’s baby? That kid’s going to be ruling playgrounds by the time he’s two.”

I chuckle, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood. “God, I hope not.”

She grins. “Nah, he’ll be too busy inheriting your brains and charm. You’ll have a mini-genius on your hands.”

I roll my eyes, though the thought is oddly comforting. “Or a terror.”

Lucia waves a hand dismissively. “Either way, I call dibs on godmother. Obviously.”

I laugh, the tension in my chest easing slightly. “Obviously.”

She finishes her meal and leans back in her chair, looking at me more seriously for a moment. “Listen, whatever happens, you’ve got this. And Rafaele? He adores you. I’ve never seen anything like it. If you’re pregnant, he’ll be over the moon. And if you’re not, well, you’ll cross that bridge when you get there. No pressure, okay?”

I nod, feeling a bit more grounded thanks to her words. “Thanks, Lucia. Really.”

“Anytime.” She pats my hand, then checks her watch. “Okay, enough mushy stuff. Let’s get you home and see what’s what. I’ll drive.”

When we arrive back at the house, she pulls up in front of the door and turns to me, a small smile on her face. “Remember, no matter what, I’m here. But…” she raises a brow, her voice taking on a teasing tone, “I totally get that this is something you need to do alone. Or with Rafaele. It’s your moment.”

I smile back at her, touched by how well she understands. “Thanks, Lucia. And don’t worry, you’re still first in line for godmother duty.”

“Damn right, I am.” She grins. “Good luck, babe. I’ll be waiting for the update.”

With one last encouraging smile, she drives off, leaving me standing at the front door, the realization of what’s coming settling on my shoulders. I head upstairs, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

In the bathroom, after taking the tests, I wait, leaning against the sink. My thoughts keep returning to the idea of a baby—Rafaele’s baby. My chest tightens, but not with fear this time. Instead, it’s hope. If I’m pregnant… God, I think I’m already in love with this child.

I stare down at the tests, my heart racing as the two pink lines appear on each one. Positive. All of them.

A surge of joy rushes through me, an overwhelming sense of happiness I can’t even begin to explain. I’m pregnant. I’m carrying Rafaele’s baby. It’s real. A part of him, a part of me—it’s growing inside me right now. I place my hand on my belly, already imagining the life ahead, the tiny person we’ll bring into the world together.

But just as quickly as the joy comes, the fear creeps in, gnawing at the edges of my excitement. My family doctor’s warnings echo in my head as clearly as if she were standing right beside me. The risks… the autoimmune diseases I’ve lived with for so long. Pregnancy was always a gray area for me, a potential complication that I’d been told to approach with caution, if at all. And now, here I am, standing on the precipice of the unknown.

I sink down onto the edge of the bathtub, clutching one of the tests in my hand. What if my body can’t handle this? What if the pregnancy triggers a flare-up or something worse? The what-ifs pile up so fast I can’t keep track of them all, and the joy starts to blur into anxiety, each new fear tugging at the happiness I felt just moments ago.

And then there’s Rafaele.

I love the way he looks at me now—strong, capable, his equal in every way. If he finds out about the risks, will he still see me the same way? Or will I become something else in his eyes—a weakness, something fragile he needs to protect? I don’t want that. I don’t want to be a burden to him, not when things between us are so good. I know he’d never say it, but if he looks at me differently… I’m not sure I could bear it.

I bite my lip, tears welling up in my eyes as I try to swallow the panic rising in my throat. This should be a moment of pure joy, and it is, but it’s also tainted with the uncertainty I’ve livedwith for so long. I want this baby so much it hurts, but I’m terrified of what it might mean for me, for us.

I press my hand to my belly again, trying to steady my breathing. I need to be strong. I need to figure out how to tell Rafaele—how to share this joy without revealing the fear that’s eating away at me. I don’t want to ruin this—this moment, this incredible thing that’s happening between us.

But I know, deep down, I can’t hide it forever.

Taking a deep breath, I wipe away the tears before they can fully fall. One step at a time. I’ll figure this out. I’ll find a way to protect our happiness—our family. But for now, I need to let this moment sink in.

I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.

As terrifying as that is, it’s also the most beautiful thing I’ve ever known.

For the rest of the day, I go back and forth about when to tell Rafaele. I try to research, but the more I look online, the more I scare myself. I should know better than to consult Dr. Google, but now I’m even more afraid. I want to see a doctor first before speaking to Rafaele. Maybe I won’t have to tell him everything—just about the baby.

But as the hours slip away, the firelight flickering in the background, exhaustion finally takes over, and I fall asleep in front of the fireplace, my mind tangled with thoughts of the future.

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