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I held up the pregnancy test box.
Her breath caught, and she paled, her fingers tightening around the edge of the door.
“Are you going to tell me?” I asked, my voice low, rough.
She swallowed hard. “Christian, I?—”
“You were going to keep this from me?” I stepped inside, closing the door behind me, my heart hammering in my chest. “Scarlett, this baby is mine—ours. You don’t get to hide this from me.”
She turned away, running a hand through her hair, her shoulders tense. “I just needed time to figure things out. I—I didn’t know how to tell you.”
I exhaled sharply. “That’s bullshit.”
She flinched. I immediately regretted my tone, but damn it, I was hurt.
“Scarlett,” I said, softer now, stepping closer. “Why? Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me?”
She turned back to me then, her eyes flashing with emotion. “Because I’m terrified, Christian! Terrified that I’m going to lose everything I’ve worked for. That I’ll lose you!”
Her voice cracked, and that was when I saw it—the sheer weight of her fears pressing down on her.
I let out a breath, closing the space between us. “Scarlett…”
She shook her head. “I was barely keeping my head above water. Victoria has been attacking me from every direction, and just when I thought I had a grip on things, this—” She gestured helplessly at herself. “I didn’t want to be one more thing you had to deal with.”
My heart twisted. “Is that really what you think?” I asked, reaching for her hand.
She hesitated, but let me take it.
“You are not a burden to me,” I said firmly, squeezing her fingers. “You never were. And this—” I touched her stomach, just lightly. “This isn’t something you should be handling on your own.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away. “Christian, I don’t want to drag you into a mess. If you want to walk away?—”
I cut her off with a fierce, heated kiss, pouring all my frustration, all my devotion, into the press of my lips against hers.
She gasped but melted into me, her hands gripping my shirt like she needed something to hold onto.
When I pulled back, I cupped her face. “I’m not going anywhere, Scarlett.”
She searched my face, and I could see the battle in her eyes—the fear of trusting this, of trusting me.
But then, finally, she nodded.
I pulled her into my arms, holding her tightly against me.
“We’ll figure this out together,” I murmured into her hair. “You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”
She let out a shuddering breath, clutching the fabric of my shirt.
I felt something shift between us—something real and unshakable.
For the first time, Scarlett wasn’t carrying everything on her own.
And I wasn’t going to let her ever again.
Later that night, after I’d gone back to my place, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.
I carefully slipped out of bed and picked it up. A text.