That made me blush, even after everything we’d done, after every time she had seen me bare in more ways than one.
Dinner was easy at first, full of warmth and conversation. She told me about herday at work, about her siblings, about something ridiculous Calil said that made her laugh until she cried. I told her about a new project I was working on and how I couldn’t stop thinking about our weekend in New York.
But the whole time, I could feel her eyes on me. Every so often, I’d glance up and catch her staring, really staring, like she was trying to memorize me.
“What?” I asked finally, smiling but nervous.
Her lips curved into something soft. “You just look beautiful tonight.”
I tried to play it off with a laugh. “You always say that.”
“And I always mean it,” she said quietly. “But tonight, it’s different, you’re glowing.”
Her words sent a shiver through me. I smiled, pretending to tease her. “Maybe it’s just the lighting.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head slowly, her gaze sweeping over me. “It’s you.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight.
After dinner, she started clearing the dishes, insisting I sit. “You cooked, so I clean,” she said, always the caretaker. I smiled and let her, my heart pounding.
Then she reached for the bottle of my favorite wine and poured herself a glass. “Want some?”
I froze. “No, I’m good.”
She looked at me like I’d just spoken a foreign language. “No wine? Since when do you turn this down? This is your favorite.”
I shrugged, trying to act casual. “Just don’t feel like it tonight.”
Her brows knit together for a second, but she let it go. She took a sip, then walked over to the couch and sank into it. “Come here,” she said, patting her lap.
My heartbeat kicked up. I wiped my palms on my jeans, then walked over and climbed into her lap, straddling her. Her hands found my hips immediately, her touch grounding, her eyes searching.
“What’s wrong, baby?” she asked softly.
I wanted to speak, but my throat locked up. I could feel the tears building before I could stop them.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I whispered.
Her body went still under mine. “Okay,” she said carefully. “You’re scaring me a little. What’s going on?”
I shook my head quickly. “You’re not going to hate me, right?”
“Hate you?” she said, her voice breaking a little. “Amiyah, I’m in love with you. You can tell me anything.”
That made it worse somehow, the tenderness, the truth in her tone. My chest hurt from holding everything in for so long.
“I love you too,” I said, my voice shaking. “That’s why I didn’t know how to tell you. I don’t want to lose you, Calla. I don’t want to lose us.”
Her expression changed instantly, fear flashing through her eyes. “Are you breaking up with me?” she whispered. “Because if you are, I can’t—”
“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head hard. The tears finally broke free, hot and uncontrollable. “No, I’m not leaving you. I’m pregnant.”
The words hung between us, heavy and fragile.
Her body went completely still. Her breathing slowed. She stared at me like she was waiting for me to take it back.
“What did you just say?” she asked quietly.
