Page 49 of Descent
Three months in that dark space had taken their toll, and Zach looked less like a man and more like a ghost each day.
I was anxious to send him to the other side for good.
Handing me the present, Alex nodded for me to open it. I tore into the shiny gold and red Christmas wrap, revealing a plain brown box, and as I worked the flap up at the end, I sent her a questioning glance.
She practically beamed at me, complexion aglow with excitement as I dipped two fingers into the narrow end and pulled out a plastic white stick.
One sporting a plus sign.
Utterly speechless, I stared at her as my heartbeat skipped like a fucking school girl’s. I worked my vocal cords, finding my voice. “Is this what I think it is?”
With a squeal, she hopped onto my lap and straddled me. “We did it, Rafe.” Her lips brushed mine. “We made a baby.”
All the doubts were still there, begging to poke through the joy of her news, because I worried I wasn’t father material.
I was a criminal.
A man with a sadist’s edge.
A man who loved his woman more than life itself and would do anything for her.
Even if that meant getting my shit together to become the father this kid deserved. To become the husband Alex needed.
A furrow drew her brows together. “You don’t seem happy about it.”
“No, baby,” I said, palming her flushed cheek, “I’m happy about it. I’m just processing.”
“Process a little faster.”
That earned her a smile. “I’m right there with you, trust me.” My mind went to the monster in the cellar. “You know what this means, right?”
Her mind went there too, dark cloud deepening her jade eyes. “It means you get what you want.”
“And what about you, Alex? What do you want?”
“I just wanted him to suffer.”
“He’s suffered, sweetheart. So have we.”
“I know.”
“Don’t you think it’s time we let go?” I studied her expression, hoping to find a hint that she was on her way to being whole again.
With a hard swallow, she nodded.
Relief flooded my veins as I gripped her by the hair and kissed her, infusing every ounce of love I felt for her in the meeting of our mouths.
Zach’s death could wait another day, because it was Christmas, and thanks to that little white stick, we had more than the holiday to celebrate.
We had a fresh start and the promise of forever in front of us.
