Page 169 of Chemistry: The Chemist

“It’s life, Egypt.” Rhea sighed. “Don’t keep punishing yourself for it.”

I shook my head, wiping the tears from my eyes with the hand I wasn’t holding Chemistry in. “I won’t.”

“Good,” she responded.

“Rugger,” I whimpered. The pain resided in me without signs of fleeing.

She didn’t respond, but her eyes were on me, assuring me I had her attention.

“Thank you.”

If no one else in the room understood why she had given thanks, she and I did. The visit to my home when I was five months pregnant could’ve ended much differently. But, the sight of my belly didn’t allow her to make good on her promise.

“My brother would never forgive me. His love is worth more to me than your life. Goodbye, Egypt.”

I didn’t sleep for a week after she’d left, afraid she’d have a change of heart and return to finish the job.

“All is forgiven, Egypt. Under one circumstance.”

“Anything.”

“I am the first to hold my niece.”

Hell broke loose. The well-poised, collected family was in disarray at once. Everyone lost their composure, racing toward me with the idea of being the first to get their hands on Chemistry. But, for my heart’s sake, I honored Rugger’s request and handed Chemistry off to her once she was close enough.

My smile split the corners of my lips. This was the reunion I was too afraid to hope for. Its fruition doubled my tears and widened my heart eight times.

For Rhea.

For Rome.

For Range.

For Roulette.

For Royce.

For Roman.

For Rather.

For Rugger.

“And you’re worried about me spoiling her.” Chem chuckled, pulling me into his side.

EPILOGUE

“Despite the circumstances, your father would be happy to have you. Happy to hold you in his arms. And, one day, I pray that’s possible. In a perfect world, it would be.” I sighed. “So ideal.”

The video ended abruptly. Every emotion I felt in that moment resurfaced. But, Chemistry’s hand on my knee gave me the reassurance I needed at that very moment, soothing the pain of his absence and my guilt during his incarceration. I swiped, starting another video from the collection I’d started to share with our daughter when she was older.

“No more, Egypt,” Chemistry pleaded.

The bitterness and pain in his voice forced me to shut the entire phone down. The videos were in an online album I’d been building and storing the documentary of my pregnancy. There were nearly two hundred videos and over five hundred photos.

Day by day, Chemistry and I were making our way through them. He was experiencing the pregnancy through my eyes. Even the birth was documented, but we hadn’t gotten that far yet. We were still in the second trimester and cruising along slowly.

“A walk?” I proposed, placing my hand over his.

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