"No detectable fetal hormone in your urine, so that's good." Mercy set a piece of paper before you. The sheet detailed your pregnancy test results. Official and in writing.

"Yeah, that... is good." You murmured, after a quick pause.

"You're not in the clear, yet, friend," She continued almost absently as she looked over your paperwork. "The male sperm can live in the vagina for up to five days."

"So... what does that mean? You're saying there's still a chance?"

Mercy pursed her lips, silently analyzing the way you spoke. Finally, she confronted you, "Are you trying to get pregnant?"

Frankly, you hadn't considered pregnancy.

"I haven't really thought about it." You replied truthfully.

"Then why aren't you using protection?" Sitting down, Mercy admonished you, the exasperation clear on her face, her voice uncharacteristically steely. "Even before Antartica, I know that I've discussed at length and in detail about the importance of contraceptive use. If you're not using protection, it means you're trying to conceive."

You gave a sheepish smile and a lame excuse, "The cryostasis made me forget...?"

She glared at you, not impressed by your attempt to justify your poor choice making.

Defeated, you sighed and apologized. "I'm sorry, Angela... I just missed him so much. And the sex is so much better bareback. And it's not like I could get pregnant with Gabe being in his current state."

She still wasn't budging. "Speaking of that, aren't you worried about sexually-transmitted infections? You hadn't seen him in a considerably long time."

"You still have a sample of my urine, you can test me. But I'm not concerned. Gabe hasn't been with anyone else."

"Let's get some blood work done, too. Just to establish a baseline." She continued to doctor you. "And I cannot stress this enough: stop having sex with him. At least until we can figure out what is causing your failure to thrive symptoms."

After receiving an earful, you sighed again and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Yes, Dr. Ziegler."

You never were a good patient. Mercy had long known that about you.

The sun was setting when you arrived at your apartment.

"Babe, you home?" You slipped off your shoes and left your bag by the door. "I was thinking pizza for dinner?"

No reply.

Maybe he's not home.

You walked to your office and peered through the open door, then checked your bedroom. No signs of Gabriel.

You looked up at the skylight, took notice of the thickening clouds and a rapidly-forming thunderhead flickering with silent lightning. Darkness descended as the charcoal-black clouds moved across the sky.

Maybe, if Gabriel hadn't come back into your life, you would have taken this as an omen.

But there was this... love bubble encasing you, one that made you feel invulnerable. Like nothing in the world could go wrong. All because you were with Gabriel again.

You didn't care that you were irrational or reckless. Time was only a breath so you were damn well going to breathe it. Now that you were reunited with your fiancé, you were going to live your life to the fullest.

In the process of shedding your clothes, you silently apologized to Angela Ziegler—for having every intention of going against her medical advice.

And maybe, while you were at it, you might try and have a kid, too. You were twenty-eight. You were well-off financially. So why not? Never mind the fact that your husband-to-be could potentially end up in jail for the rest of his life for his transgressions.

Carpe diem.

You heard the front door open, then close. Quickly, you pulled a shirt over your head and made sure its hem covered you decently.

But leaving your room killed your positivity.

Gabriel, clothed in a muscle shirt and wind pants, stood beside the person you'd rudely dismissed earlier today. And with good reason.

"What are you doing here?" Your eyes, sharp and calculating, darted from your fiancé to your so-called best friend.

"Just dropping him off." Jack replied coolly, seeming unfazed and not intimidated in the slightest by your hostility. Then, he gave an elbow of a nudge to your fiancé after a moment's passing.

Gabriel looked at you with an expression you rarely saw on his face—that of uncertainty. He sighed, then declared, "We can't have sex anymore."

Based on what had just transpired and your experience at Mercy's practice today, it was very obvious who had put Gabriel up to the ridiculous proclamation.

You raised a brow at your betrothed. Gone was your buoyancy, replaced by extreme aggravation. But you struggled to keep your emotions in check and your voice even. And with the most civility you could muster, you said, "Let's, for one minute, ignore the fact that we are discussing a very private aspect of our love life in front of Jack. Please, Gabe, tell me why you want to stop having sex."

The two former friends traded glances—like they'd discussed something life-changing about you. And what you witnessed in their brief and silent exchange ushered in memories of the past. Back when it was all still normal.

The keen nostalgia felt so powerful, it stole your breath away. In that moment, you perceived that maybe things have gone back to normal. That life was reverting back to the way it used to be because the two most important men in your life were ...actually getting along.

If this was that.

"Jack, turn the other way," Your husband-to-be approached you. "I'll kill you if you so much as breathe in this direction."

Your best friend rolled his eyes but acquiesced, turning to face the door.

You felt the hem of your shirt being lifted as Gabriel stood before you, towering over you. He examined your torso quietly. Then, you understood why he'd made the odd request to Jack. As well as the not-so-subtle threat. "You know he's already seen me naked, Gabe. How do you think he knew about the bruises?"

"What?" Gabriel was nearly shouting. You glanced past him for a second and saw how rigid Jack's figure had become. It was difficult, but you managed to keep a straight face and not smile ear-to-ear. Maybe sharing this information with your fiancé would get Jack off your ass.

"I have not seen you naked." The old soldier protested after regaining his composure, all the while, he kept his back to you. "You were in your underwear, and we were at Angela's office. But that's beside the point."

"I recall you barging in. I don't recall ever giving you permission to check me out, though. Or to tell me how to live my life."

Your mischief was short-lived when Gabriel asked you, "You knew about the bruising this whole time?"

You couldn't lie to him, not when he was this close to you and looking directly into your eyes—appearing absolutely devastated. As if you had betrayed him.

"I didn't think anything of it." You said, shrugging. "And you probably wouldn't have noticed if Jack hadn't told you."

"We are going to stop having sex," Gabriel said. This time, he was more assertive.

Your amusement was gone at this point. "So are we allowed to hold hands? Or is that off limits, too?" Since the subject had been brought up, you were going to press your case, no matter how uncomfortable or awkward it could feel for either of the men in the room. "Or is this your way of breaking up with me? Because, to be honest, I can't imagine being in a relationship as advanced as ours without fucking."

"No, I'm not breaking up with you. That's never going to happen." He became flustered as his boldness diminished. You felt rotten for putting him on the spot, but you knew that if you caved now... you would lose this argument.

"I'm the horniest person I know, and you are expecting me to be celibate," You were near insolent, but you didn't care. "Both of you."

Gabriel finally let go of your shirt, the uncertainty returning to his handsome features. "I told you this wasn't going to fly."