Page 112 of Say You're Mine

We make love again, slower this time, savoring every touch, every kiss, knowing it might be our last. As the first hints of dawn start to creep across the sky, June reluctantly pulls away.

"I have to go," he says, the words heavy with regret.

I nod, swallowing back the sob that threatens to escape. "I know."

June dresses quickly, efficient movements betraying years of practice. At the window, he pauses, looking back at me with an intensity that steals my breath.

"I'm coming back for you," he vows. "For both of you. I swear it on my life."

Then he's gone, melting into the shadows like he was never there at all. I curl around my belly, letting the tears fall freely now.

"Your daddy's coming home," I whisper to our child. "We just have to hold on a little longer."

The days crawl by in an agonizing blur. I go through the motions of living - eating when Natalie reminds me, resting when the doctor orders, smiling and nodding at the right moments during checkups. But inside, I'm hollowed out, a shell of the woman I used to be.

June's clandestine visits are the only thing keeping me sane. They're sporadic, unpredictable, but each one breathes life back into my withered soul. For a few stolen hours, I can pretend that everything's okay, that we're just a normal couple eagerly awaiting the birth of our child.

But reality always comes crashing back, harsher and colder for the brief respite.

I'm lying in bed, one hand resting on my ever-growing bump, when a sharp pain lances through my abdomen. I gasp, curling in on myself as another follows, stronger this time.

"No," I whimper, panic clawing at my throat. "Not yet. Please, not yet."

The door flies open, and Natalie rushes in, her face pale with worry. "Cara? What's wrong?"

"The baby," I manage through gritted teeth. "Something's not right."

What happens next is a blur of activity. An ambulance is called, machines are hooked up, worried voices speak in hushed tones over my head. Through it all, one thought pounds in my mind like a mantra:

June should be here.

We're halfway to the hospital when the world explodes in a shower of glass and screeching metal. The ambulance swerves violently, tossing me against the straps holding me down. Natalie screams, a high, terrified sound that cuts off abruptly.

Then everything goes black.

I wake to the acrid smell of antiseptic and the steady beep of monitors. For a moment, relief washes over me - I'm in a hospital, the baby's okay, everything's fine.

But as my eyes adjust to the dim light, I realize this isn't a normal hospital room. The windows are barred, the door reinforced steel. And the woman sitting calmly in the corner, perfectly manicured nails tapping against the arm of her chair, is the stuff of my nightmares.

Elaine Deveaux.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, my dear," she says, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I was beginning to worry."

Ice floods my veins. I try to sit up, but my limbs are leaden, uncooperative. "What did you do to me?" I slur, my tongue thick in my mouth.

Elaine's smile is razor-sharp. "Just a mild sedative, darling. Can't have you hurting yourself or my grandchild, now can we?"

Grandchild. The word hits me like a physical blow, and my hands fly to my stomach. The familiar swell is still there, and I let out a shaky breath.

"What do you want?" I demand, hating how weak my voice sounds.

Elaine rises, moving to stand at the foot of my bed. "What every grandmother wants," she says, her eyes gleaming with a fanatical light. "A legacy. A future. And you, my dear, are carrying that future inside you."

I curl protectively around my bump, glaring at her with all the hatred I can muster. "You'll never touch this baby," I spit. "June will-"

"June?" Elaine laughs, the sound like breaking glass. "Oh, you poor, deluded girl. June isn't coming for you. He's a bit... preoccupied at the moment."

Fear claws at my throat. "What did you do to him?"

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