Page 48 of Sold Rejected Mate
Standing, I force myself to go through the motions. Flush the toilet, wash my hands, which shake under the cool stream of the water. When I’m done, I lean down and splash some of the water on my face and hold the backs of my hands to my cheeks, trying to cool my body, to calm down.
I need to take a pregnancy test.
But even without it, I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’m pregnant with Lachlan Cambias’s baby. We’ve only officially been together for a month, and I’ve only been back in Silverville a little longer than that.
And I’m pregnant with his child.
How am I going to tell him? And what is he going to say? Does he even want kids? We’ve spent so much time talking about the past—Lachlan apologizing in every way he knows how for what he did—that I never even thought to ask him about the future.
A quick, gentle knocking on the door startles me, and I quickly turn the water off, spinning around like I’ve been doing something wrong.
“Valerie?” Phina calls, her voice muffled through the door. “Are you okay? Almost done? I have to peeagain. This damn baby is lounging on my bladder.”
Oh,gods.
“One second!” I call back to her through my hand, throwing the water back on before I spin around, lean over, and vomit into the toilet.
Chapter 24 - Lachlan
When I’m old and I look back on my life, I know there’ll be a line—a clear demarcation—between before Valerie and after. I don’t know how I was living life before her, bringing in a different woman every night, burying myself in a wrong-fitting sort of connection every time.
Now, every night, I discover a new thing about her. A new way that we fit together. Another piece of evidence to show we’re perfect for each other.
Three nights into her period—the first time we’ve gone more than a day without having sex—we’re driving back from having dinner in town. A new Italian place downtown. Though Valerie had practically drooled over the seafood lasagna when she saw it on the menu online, she ordered a salad when we got there, saying her period cramps were bothering her.
I always thought girls wanted rich things when on their period, but what do I know? Maybe they’re all different.
We’re just passing the church on the edge of town, heading onto the road that will take us into the mountains and toward my place, when Valerie reaches over, takes my hand, and laces her fingers through it.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” she says, swallowing.
“Okay—starting out strong,” I laugh, glancing at her, watching the deep orange of the street lights flash over her face. “What, does my breath smell like garlic? It’s your fault for ordering the garlic bread.”
“No,” she says, relaxing a little after I joke with her. She clears her throat, runs her fingers over her skirt. I watch her,thinking about the thighs under that skirt—thicker now, more supple. When she first came to me, she was so skinny, and I’m happy to see now that she’s getting enough to eat. “I was just…Well, I guess I’m wondering how much you like your house?”
“Why?” I ask, laughing again and glancing over at her. “What are you planning to do?”
“I’m notplanninganything,” she says, glancing up at me through the hair falling forward, partially obscuring her face. “I just…I’m not sure that it really feels likehometo me.”
“What do you mean?” I try not to bristle, try not to immediately think that it must have something to do with me. That if my house doesn’t feel like home to her, it must be about the guy living inside.
Even though I just picked the most expensive property for sale in Silverville when I was ready to move out. And it came pre-furnished, so I didn’t have to do any work to figure things out.
“It’s, uh, I guess…like, clinical-feeling.”
“Clinical.”
“I know a lot of people like the modern look, but I’m just not sure it’s for me. When I buy a house in the future, I think I’ll want it to be a little different.”
I stare at her. “When you buy a house in the future?”
Her eyes find mine. This isn’t safe to drive like this, so I pull over to the side of the road, our headlights shining into the foliage on the side of the road, the guardrail just to the side as it begins to drizzle, water spattering against the windshield.
When I look at her, I’m struck by howgorgeousshe is. It’s like no matter how many times I wake up next to her, go out with her, I’m startled by the sight of her every time. Here in this car, wearing a skirt and blouse, her green hair braided back into twothick plaits. Her cheeks pink, her lips shining with lip gloss and smelling like cherries.
I want to lean over the center console like we used to and kiss her like a teenager. But this is important, and I don’t want to interrupt this conversation in case we forget to pick it up again later.
“I mean,” Valerie shifts in her seat. “I’d like to have a place someday.”
