Page 60 of Creed

“It kinda is, Soph.” I lean my head against the door. “Do you want to drink something first and try again in a bit? Dinner is here.”

“I opened the test. It might get contaminated.” That makes me laugh outright, and she laughs, too. “Shut up. I know no airborne pregnancy viruses are floating around. Oh!”

“What’s the matter?”

“Shh. Don’t distract me. The laughing helped.”

I can picture her brow puckering in concentration, and I smile. I hear the toilet flush, then the water as she washes up. The door opens, and my chest seizes.

With her dark hair bundled on top of her head in a messy bun, a big hoodie and leggings, and no make-up, she’s still stunning.

Her facial features are soft, and her dark brown eyes with streaks of copper are luminous as she stares up at me.

“I set a timer. We need to wait three minutes.”

Neither of us moves. We stand at the threshold of the room, containing a small stick of plastic and chemicals that will dictate our future's path tonight.

My heart hammers against my ribcage, trying to burst free. Here I am, hoping and praying for one result, even though I know the love of my life is hoping and praying for the opposite.

The timer on Sophie’s phone sounds, and she lifts her eyes to mine and holds out her hand.

Together.

Intertwining my fingers with hers, I tighten my grip as that familiar feeling of home washes over me. Sophie is the one for me. The woman who sees the truest version of me. The one who I instantly fell in love with and experienced a love unlike anything I've ever known.

We walk toward the counter, her trembling hand gripping mine tightly. When we stop at the counter, we react simultaneously.

She sags with relief.

I stiffen, filled with a bitter disappointment and crushing anguish that I know will torment me to the end of my days.

Chapter 19

Sophie

Creed’s inked fingers intertwinewith mine, holding me tight. I feel his reaction to the test results, and when I look at him, an excruciating ache rises to consume me, seeing his anguish.

“You wanted it to be positive,” I whisper.

He stares at the white stick and the single line. He drags his free hand over his face, not letting go of my hand with his other. “It just hit me how much.”

His touch against my skin and his nearness will be my downfall, and I try to tug my hand away. However, he holds on and turns so we face each other.

“I didn't want it to be positive because it would force us together or tie you to me, and it’s not because our species is hardwired to procreate.” He lifts our hands and rubs his lips gently over myknuckles, which messes with my resolve and my legs’ continued ability to keep supporting me.

“I wanted it to be positive because it’syou. It would’ve beenourchild. A piece of you would live on through time as our children have children and our grandchildren have children.” He gently cups my face. “And because it’s you, and it’s me, and nothing has ever felt more right.”

My resolve is hanging on by a thread. I’m dangling over a cliff, digging in my fingernails to hold on, and about to fall.

He steps away from me, breaking physical contact. I fight the overwhelming urge to sob.

“These tests can be wrong. I think you should see a doctor.” He raises a hand to stop my protest. “If not to confirm, then to investigate why you’re missing your cycles while on a medication that’s supposed to regulate them.”

The worry in his eyes makes me fall for him even more. He has always treated me like a precious treasure, one he wanted to keep by his side forever, right from the beginning.

“I will.”

“Come sit, Sophie.”

---