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Slowly, we walked out to my terrace. Under the pouring rain, I laid down a couple towels by the railing before throwing a few over our heads.
“Kitten, what are you—”
“Sit down. We can lean against the railing so you’re not putting pressure on your ribs.”
Once we were comfortable, he asked, “Why are we sitting in the rain when we just got dry?”
I laid my head on his shoulder and replied, “It’s rain therapy. It washes away the sadness.” Grabbing his hand, I held it on my lap, knowing he’d feel a thousand times better after this. “I do this every time I’m sad, Tristian. I swear it works.” I kissed his hand. “I don’t like seeing you sad.”
He didn’t say a word. The stillness was nice. I felt him kiss the top of my head, and I smiled, aware that he was thanking me. We stayed out there until the rain stopped.
However, our feelings for each other were now…
Full throttle.
Chapter Sixteen
—Belle—
Now
In a summer dress, I laid on the beach with my hand rubbing my belly and looked up at the sky, watching the fluffy white clouds pass by. I thought about how much my life had changed and what was yet to come. For some reason, it all hit me today. We’d been in Tahiti for five days now with nine days still left of our honeymoon.
We were married, trying to make a baby at all hours of the day. My hand slid up and down my stomach, contemplating the possibility of already being pregnant. Today was the first day the realization slammed into my head.
What if I was pregnant? Would I be a good mother? Would he be a good father? What kind of parents would be? Did I want a girl or a boy? More kids? How many?
The questions that arose in my mind were on an endless cycle of one right after the other. People in relationships talked about these things during the dating phase. Getting to know each other and what the other wanted for their future. We skipped that whole stage, jumping headfirst into a marriage of convenience. We weren’t strangers by any means, but in so many ways it felt like we were.
A lot had changed in our lives in the last twenty years. At times, it felt as if he was still the same boy I fell head over heels in love with.
A look.
A word.
A smile.
His scent.
His kiss.
His hands all over my body.
They were the same.
Only continuing to confuse me.
At least we were on civil speaking terms. I couldn’t keep up with the emotional highs and lows. The attraction for him was still there. There was no hiding from it, seeing it for what it was. I hated being the reason there was so much tension between us.
Which was why I started spending more time at the beach, away with my thoughts. I’d picture myself with a baby in my arms, showing them how to swim, walk, and talk. Then Tristian would appear in my fantasy, where we were happy, laughing, in love…
For a moment, our life seemed perfect. Not filled with all this complicated indecision of the future we might never have together. I never imagined I’d be living a life that appeared to be someone else’s. Day in and day out, I thought about Tristian.
Our baby.
Were they my family now?
The rumbling of a motorcycle pulled me away from my thoughts. I sat up and gazed behind me as I heard the bike get closer to me. Stepping into my white sneakers next, I stood and walked toward the street. There in front of my eyes, the past and present collided with such a force I found it hard to breathe.
