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Shooting pauses when there’s a technical problem with one of the lights.

I take out my phone.

How’s it going? I’ve got some news later…

It’s going well, I reply. I’m learning a lot. It’s enough to watch him work, how I used to watch other actors in the beginning, attempting to understand not just how he does things, but why, and why at that specific time, etc. How are you doing? And what’s this news? I love you.

I don’t expect a reply right away, but it comes quickly as if she can’t wait.

I’m so happy it’s going well. I can’t give you the news over the phone, but it’s big. I love you, too, so much.

I smirk. You’re such a tease. Telling me there’s news but telling me that you can’t be specific. Did Aurora give you a promotion? You deserve one.

No, it’s nothing to do with work.

I guess I’ll have to be a good boy and wait until later unless it’s something to do with the B-word. In that case, you need to give me a hint.

The b-word is how we refer to a possible pregnancy.

With such fierce passion, we both want it so badly that referring to it outright feels like tempting fate. It doesn’t matter that neither of us believed in fate before we met.

We do now.

I’m not sure how to respond to that.

My heart starts pounding in my chest with more force than it has yet, with more power than it did when I proposed, feelings spinning through me, captivating me, making me want to roar.

Then tell me this. Where are you right now?

I’m at home. Aurora said I could take the afternoon off.

I make for the door right away, knowing I can return here later or tomorrow, knowing there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with my woman.

With the possible news….

What if I’ve got it wrong?

But why else would Aurora give her the time off? They’ve just picked up a new A-list client.

I take the back entrance, jump in my car, and drive through the city as fast as I can without breaking the law. It’s like she’s beckoning to me, my woman, the future, all of it much closer than before her text.

“Weston? Text received from Alice.”

The text-to-voice program reads the message aloud. After what happened to my woman’s mother, I’ll never use my phone while driving.

I can’t text her back, but soon, I’m pulling into the parking lot.

I jump from the car and take the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

I run up, pumping my legs, moving as fast as I can.

“Alice?” I roar, pushing the door open and running into the hallway.

She appears at the end of it, wearing her work clothes, with makeup down her face from where she’s been crying. She doesn’t wear much – she doesn’t need it – but it’s enough to tell me something important is happening.

“Tell me,” I say, my voice unsteady, my soul anything but….

My soul is firm and determined to be the best father I can be.

If I’ve got this right.

“I’m pregnant,” she says.

I rush forward, sweeping her into my arms and spinning her around as love flows between us.

“I can’t even… I don’t… Words are….”

“I know,” she gasps, wrapping her legs around my middle, and holding me tightly. “I know, Weston. It’s so amazing. It’s everything.”

We kiss like it’s the first and last time.

EPILOGUE

MONTHS LATER

Alice

“We want it to be catchy,” I say, “and not preachy. It’s difficult because we don’t want to guilt people into not texting and driving. But at the same time, what other options are there?”

It’s an exhilarating experience, standing at the front of the room, in front of the whiteboard, feeling my baby shifting slightly inside of me.

My team and I brainstorm for a while.

At some point, I hear my phone vibrate in my handbag.

When I feel the flutter in my chest, I know I should’ve set it to complete silence, not vibration, because it’s difficult to focus when all I can think about is my husband texting me.

My husband.

That word always makes me think of the wedding, thinking of walking down the aisle with Natasha at my side. It was unusual, my sister walking me, but it felt right.

It felt good, even when I teased Natalie, asking her if her so-called crush was coming back.

She gave me a playful shove.

“No offense, sis, but he’s not my type.”

I don’t want him to be anybody’s type, just mine.

After the meeting – we get lots of good ideas – I go into the cafeteria, noticing the way people look at me differently than they did before.

It’s a fact of my connection with Weston, but I also hope some of it is due to how hard I’ve been working since Aurora gave me a team of my own for this special project.

Finally, I checked my phone.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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