Page 46 of Tears of Gold

A wave of a sob builds in my chest, higher and higher until I’m about to be swallowed by fear and uncertainty. I crumble, shuddering and shaking.

His arms hold me tight and he waits, waits for the storm within me to pass. When my sobbing eases, he smooths my hair with his big, broad palms and bends down to meet my gaze. “Then I will protect you. I will protect both of you and everything we have.”

His words calm the wind of destruction howling in my soul.

“I’m sorry,” I sniff. “I’m just so surprised.”

“Nothing surprises me about you, or us.”

“What do you mean?” I push back a little, exhausted but strangely calm. “Look who I was when we met. Miserable and alone, battered by my family demands. But then you came along, and you flipped it all, made me want more.”

I never thought that maybe I affected him as much as he did me.

“And I didn’t think I would ever feel anything. I was safe, but now I’m exposed to everything.”

“You will always be safe with me, but you have to share everything, even if you think I won’t like it.”

I nod but I can’t agree. Some darkness isn’t meant to be shared.

“Faith?” He tilts my chin and meets my gaze. “We could have had this blue box between us in three weeks, three months, even three years and it still would have been a surprise. It’s a surprise because neither of us have done it before.”

“I guess.” I try to dab at my sticky face, but I think it’s beyond repair.

He smiles and I scrutinise it, trying to see if he’s hiding any fear, but it’s just him, gorgeous and part dimple. “So how do you feel about peeing on a stick?”

“Like it’s something I never thought I would do.”

“Well, sunshine, I did say all your firsts were mine.”

He did. He did say that… I guess he wasn’t lying.

He picks up the box and opens the cellophane wrapper, all while my heart does some gymnastic routine in my chest. “Here, you hold this.” He passes me the white stick which feels much lighter than I expected impending doom to feel in my hand. He opens the instructions and scans over them. I’m glad he is reading them; to me they just a blur of blue writing. When he lowers them, he stares at me, his eyes shining. Why isn’t he crapping himself?

“Basically, they use a lot of words to say pee on the stick mid-stream and then put the cap back on and wait three minutes.”

“Okay.” I stare at it. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

“Do you need a pee right now, or shall we go down and guzzle water?”

I shake my head. “I’ve needed a pee since about five. I’ve been holding it.”

He chuckles and it makes my shoulders fall from where I am holding them so high.

“I can’t believe this.” My fingers shake around the stick.

“Me neither.” For a moment his confidence slips.

“We’ve got choices.” My words shake as I repeat what I said to Tabitha when she stood in Dan’s kitchen.

The blues settle on my face. “First choice, peeing on a stick.”

I nod. My heart thrums. On shaking legs, I get up from the bed where I’ve been frozen for hours. Clutching the stick in my hand, I walk towards our en-suite. “How many minutes does it take to work again?”

“Three.” His eyes don’t move from me. “Want me to come with you?”

I snort. “No thank you. Let’s not slip into the peeing in front of each other level quite yet.”

I pee on the stick and then trying very hard not to look at it, I push the lid back on, finish up and then walk back out to Eli who is watching the en-suite door with some sort of laser beam stare.