Page 208 of His Pretty Little Duet

I’ve lost a child before.

What if I lose this one?

I always thought I wasn’t made of the right stuff?—

“You are better than those thoughts, sweet girl. No matter the result, I will love you. I will keep all my promises to you, and I will fuck you until you are.”

My throat tightens, tears rising.

I anchor myself in his eyes, fighting the pull of the column in his fist, fighting the need to drag my gaze to it. “What if I can’t anymore? That’s a thing, right? Sometimes the stuff inside just stops working, after trauma, after…"

He holds my stare effortlessly. “We will make it happen, little deer. I will fill you every night for the rest of your life.”

“What if I lose him, like I lost the last one.” Panic wins out, rising my voice, “You’ll hate me and find someone?—”

“I will do no such thing.”

I fight the pull. “Will you find someone else?”

“I do not want children, little deer.”

My breath hitches. “What?”

“I want children withyou.”

I can’t hold it anymore. I have to look at it, have to know the results. My eyes drop to the testing panel while his stay on mine, and there is— There is?—

Therearetwo lines.

I gasp, the choppy sound falling out as the waves of emotions rise like a flood, bursting out of my eyes under the pressure. I’m too full with?—

With happiness.

Fear.

Happiness.

Fear.

Rivulets of tears clog my vision, but I can still see the moment Clay Butcher finally looks at the cylinder.

His brows pinch.

And I can’t. I cover my face, unable to handle the throes of what all this means, the gravity and responsibility, the excitement and belonging, of growing his—HIS—fucking Clay Butcher’s baby insidemywomb.

I can’t.

What if I lose it.

Oh God.

I’m having his baby.

Clay Butcher’s baby?—

Clay.

Butcher’s.

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