<b>Chapter 150 </b>
CELINE <fn29e1> ???s ??????? ?s ?????? ?? F?nd-Novel</fn29e1>
The bathwater is perfect–warm enough to reduce the ache in my lower back, scented withvender to calm my racing thoughts.
I sink deeper into the porcin tub, letting the heat seep into my bones as my hand instinctively finds the small curve of my belly.
Seventeen weeks.
I close my eyes and try to push away the memory of Eleanor Reid’s cold smile, the way she slid that check across the marble table like I was nothing more than a transaction to bepleted.
‘Two million dors to disappear.‘
The money sits in my ount, untouched. A steady reminder of how little his mother thinks of me. Of how easily she believed I could be bought.
But I ran. Like a coward, I ran instead of fighting for us.
“Celine?” Hunter’s voice drifts through the bathroom door, followed by a gentle knock. “Are you alright in there?”
My heart does that stupid flutter thing it always does when he’s near. “I’m fine. Just…rxing.”
“Good.” There’s a pause. “I brought you something.”
I smile despite myself.
He’s been doing this for three days now….small gestures that feel like apologies without words. Yesterday it was my favorite tea.
This morning, he bought a book of poetry he found at a local shop.
“What is it this time?”
“You’ll have toe see.”
I drain the tub and wrap myself in the fluffy robe he bought me–another small gesture.
When I open the door, Hunter is standing there holding a bouquet of sunflowers, their bright yellow faces almost as brilliant as his shy smile.
“I saw them at the market,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “They reminded me of you.”
“Sunflowers remind you of me?” I take the flowers, inhaling their earthy sweetness.
“They face the sun. Always reaching for light, even when everything around them is dark.” His eyes meet mine. “Like you do.”
My throat tightens.
This is the Hunter I fell in love with–the one who saw poetry in ordinary moments, who made me feel like I was worth something beautiful.
“Thank you.” I bury my face in the petals. “They’re perfect.”
“I have a confession.” He follows me to the kitchen, watching as I fill a vase with water. “I’ve been thinking about baby names.<b>” </b>
I freeze. “Have you?”
“For a girl, I like Luna. It means moon….a light in the darkness.” He pauses. “What do you think?”
The question catches me off guard. Not because he’s thinking about names, but because he’s asking my opinion.
Really asking, like my answer matters.
“I think it’s beautiful,” I say softly. “What about for a boy?”
“I was hoping you would have ideas.”
This is new. Hunter asking for my input instead of making decisions for me. It’s such a small thing, but it feels huge.
“Gabriel,” I say without thinking. “It means ‘God is my strength.”
“Gabriel.” He tests the name on his tongue. “I like it. Gabriel Reid.”
“Or Gabriel Brown–Reid.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and Hunter’s smile widens.
“You had hyphenate?”
“Maybe. If…” I trail off, suddenly shy. “If we ever get to that point.”
“We will.” His certainty should annoy me, but instead, it makes me feel anchored. Safe. “Can I ask you something?”
I nod.
“Are you scared? About the baby, I mean.”
The honest answer lodges in my throat. ‘I’m terrified. Of your mother. Of not being enough. Of having to run again.‘
“Sometimes,” I admit. “Are you?”
“Every day.” He moves closer, and I can smell his cologne–cedar and something beautifully him. “But not because I don’t want this. Because
I want it so much it terrifies me.”
“Hunter…”
“I know I’ve given you every reason not to trust me. But I need you to know–I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens, whoever tries to interfere, I’m staying. We’re going to figure this out together.”
The conviction in his voice makes my chest tight. This is what I’ve been waiting for–proof that he’ll choose us over everything else.
“I want to believe you.”
“Then let me prove it.” He reaches out slowly, giving me time to pull away. When I don’t, his palm settles over my stomach.
“May I?”
I cover his hand with mine, pressing it firmer against the small swell. “The baby’s been active today.”
As if summoned by my words, there’s a flutter–barely there, but unmistakable. Hunter’s eyes widen.
“Was that…?”
“Your son or daughter saying hello.”
Aug
The look on his face is pure wonder. Like he’s witnessing a miracle. His thumb strokes across my belly, and I feel the baby respond with another gentle kick.
“Hi, little one,” he whispers. “Daddy’s here.”
Tears blur my vision. This moment…Hunter’s voice soft with awe, his hand protective over our child–this is what I’ve been afraid to hope for.
“I love you,” he says, and I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or the baby. Maybe both.
“I love you too.” The wordse out broken, honest. “God help me, I love you too.”
He kisses my forehead, and for a moment, everything feels possible. Like maybe we can survive his mother’s disapproval, society’s judgment, all the obstacles that stand between us and happiness.
“I have to go out of town next week,” he says quietly. “Business. Three days in Chicago.”
My stomach drops. “Okay.”
“I can cancel. Send Vincent instead.”
“No.” I shake my head. “You can’t put your life on hold for me.”
“You are my life.” His intensity makes me shiver. “You and Caesar and this baby–you’re all that matters.”
“Hunter.” I cup his face, feeling the stubble rough against my palms. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
Something changes in his expression–relief mixed with desperate hope. “Promise me.”
“I promise.”
He kisses me then, soft and searching, like he’s trying to memorize the taste of my lips. When we break apart, he rests his forehead against
mine.
“I’ll call you every night.”
“I’ll answer.”
“Even if you’re angry with me?”
“Especially then.”
Hisugh is shaky. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Maybe not. But you’re trying to.”
That night, I lie in bed listening to Hunter pack in the room next door. He’s leaving at dawn, and despite my promise, part of me wants to run.
To take Caesar and disappear before Eleanor Reid realizes I’m back in her son’s life.
But I won’t. Not this time.
Because Hunter asked me to trust him, and for the first time in my life, I want to be brave enough to try.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Hunter: ‘Can’t sleep. Thinking about you.‘
smile, typing kat Tianteng shui Yo Yo
Hunter “n: paing to miss you
You haven’t the
Painter: dy missing you
I’m about to respond when my phone rings. Hunter’s name fiathes on the screen.
“Couldn’t wait until morning?” I tease.
“I needed to hear your voice.” He sounds tired, vulnerable. “Tell me this is real. That you’re not going to disappear the moment I leave
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Sweari
“swear.”
There’s a long pause, then: “I have something to tell you when I get back. Something important.”
My heart skips. “What kind of something?”
“The kind that changes everything.”
“Hunter, you’re scaring me.”
“Don’t be scared. It’s good. I think…I hope it’s good.”
“Can’t you tell me now?”
“Face to face. Some things need to be said in person.”
I close my eyes, trying to imagine what could be so important. “Okay.”
“I love you, Celine. Whatever happens, remember that.”
“I love you too.”
After he hangs up, I lie in the dark with my hand on my belly, wondering what secret he’s carrying. What news could change everything?
Outside, I hear the soft rumble of a car engine starting. Hunter, leaving for today, he would be back tomorrow to get his stuff.
I drift off to sleep with his words echoing in my mind: ‘Something that changes everything.’
I wake to my phone ringing. The caller ID makes my blood run cold. ‘Eleanor Reid.’ My hands shake as I unlock my phone.
I texted back. “Hello, Eleanor.”
“Hello, Celine.” Her voice is ice. “We need to talk.”