I stood there in her embrace, stiff, stomach clenched, lost in a fog of warring thoughts as a tempest of emotions collided within me.

I didn't know what to feel—relief, sadness, guilt, confusion—all these emotions, they were jumbled inside me, confusing me.

"I'm so sorry, honey." My mother said to me, squeezing me tighter. "I shouldn't have doubted you, I've always known you to make smart choices."

I nodded into her shoulder, unsure of what to say or how to react. I should've been happy and relieved but...What was wrong with me? Wasn't this what I wanted?

My mother pulled away and stared at me. Her brows furrowed. She cupped my cheeks. "Baby, you don't look happy."

Was I?

"I am," I said, managing a weak smile.

She caressed my cheeks. "Do you want to take another test just to be sure? there's still one more strip left."

I shook my head. "It's fine, I always knew I wasn't pregnant anyway."

"Maybe it's your period trying to get the best of you, I'll make some chowder for you before you leave."

I smiled again. "Thanks, Mum."

She rubbed my arms. "Rest up okay, you have a long flight tomorrow."

I nodded and hugged her one more time. "I love you, Mum."

When she left, I walked to the counter and stared down at the strip.

Negative.

It was stark and clear against the white background. My nostrils moistened. I sniffled and leaned over the counter, allowing the reality of my situation to crash over me. I guess the thought of getting pregnant did scare me but there was a little part of my heart that had been hoping for a different outcome. It was a truth that I wasn't fully aware of until this very moment; even if I wasn't quite ready, I wanted to be pregnant by Tristan because I loved him.

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, making them sting. God, why was I crying? I laughed at myself. Why did it feel like I had lost something I didn't even have? A tear fell. I brushed it off harshly. Fuck this, I placed the strip back on the counter and washed my hands before walking out of my bathroom.

It was probably for the best. Tristan didn't want kids and his decision needed to be respected. He'd been through a lot already.

Inhaling a deep breath, I walked over to the window and opened it, hoping to find some solace in the night sky. The air was chilly and the sky was dark with barely a star left to look at. I leaned over the windowsill and expelled another breath. That was when I noticed a soft glow of light emanating from Lee's house. As I looked closely, curiosity piqued, I could see the silhouette of a man passing by the open window with a cup in his hand.

Xavier.

Seeming to have sensed my gaze, he stopped, receded and peered through his window at me. A small warm smile curved his lips. He raised his hand in a wave. He was shirtless.

I managed a wave, feeling a hint of a smile tugging at my lips as I remembered our rodeo in his car. I could use that kind of laughter right now. I stepped back away from the window and sighed. Maybe I should call Tristan, he was the only one who could chase away this sudden loneliness that settled within me. I missed him and—

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I walked to it and picked it up, welcomed by a message from Xavier.

Xavier: can't sleep?

I leaned against the wall and texted back.

Me: yeah.

Almost immediately, another message came through.

Xavier: me too. Want to come over? My offer is still open.

Ummm...

I chewed on my bottom lip, contemplating his request. The idea of some company right now sounded too appealing to pass off, plus I could really use a cold glass of wine.

Ignoring the warning bells going off in my head, I typed my response.

Me: Sure, I'll be right there.

***

I changed out of my hoddie into a casual baggy T-shirt and black leggings. My hair was up in my scrunchie and my feet were neatly tucked in my fluffy slides. As I crossed the short distance to Xavier's house, I couldn't help the shiver of unease that ran down my back. When I rang the doorbell, he opened it almost immediately, gracing me with his welcoming smile as well as the smooth golden skin of his bare chest. "Glad you could make it," he said, gesturing for me to come in. "I'll give you a quick tour."

I smiled. "Sure."

On entering the living room, I was instantly blown away. It was adorned with plush, designer furniture and elegant art pieces that seemed to come to life against the backdrop of neutral, yet richly textured wallpaper, not just that but every surface gleamed, free from even the tiniest speck of dust and the air was scented with a delicate fragrance that made me feel as though I had entered a high-end spa.

In the kitchen, I was met with a breathtaking sight of modern stainless steel appliances that looked more like pieces of art. The central island was massive, the glossy granite countertops were flawless. The opulence and modernity that surrounded me was awe-inspiring. It was as if I had stepped into the pages of a magazine showcasing the homes of the rich and famous.

And don't even get me started with that floating staircase that seemed to defy physics, suspended with glass balustrades that gave an illusion of weightlessness. The contrast between my own cozy, lived-in home and this immaculate masterpiece was stark. It didn't compare, and never would.

"The look on your face tells me you're amused," Xavier said when we returned to the kitchen.

"Amused?" I laughed. "Are you kidding me? I'm blown away, this is amazing."

He shrugged, pulled open the fridge and took out a fresh bottle of chardonnay. "Amazing yes but unnecessary." He placed a bottle on the island and went to work uncorking it. "My mother likes to spend money on spontaneous things."

I licked my lips. "I'm guessing you're not a fan of the high-end."

He lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug and turned around, leaving me to stare at his broad back and the hard curve of his ass in those pants as he effortlessly reached into the high cabinets and pulled out two wine glasses. He turned back and filled both glasses. "I like simple things. I'm not trying to impress anyone but you see my mother, she's in a silent competition with every wealthy woman in Hobart and it's exhausting because half my income goes into funding this extravagant lifestyle."

I laughed. "The things we do to make our parents happy."

His eyes laughed with me as he handed me a glass. I accepted it with a nod of gratitude and took a sip. The flavour splashed in my mouth and I almost sighed in satisfaction at how good it tasted. My thoughts strayed. "Ilse isn't going to pop out of nowhere and crawl on me, is she?"

A low sound of laughter rumbled through his chest. "Relax, you're safe, she's been tucked away."

I smiled and took another sip. "What do you usually feed her anyway?"

"Gerbils, and mice mostly." He responded, watching me over the rim of his glass.

I blinked. "Live?"

He nodded. "Unfortunately, Ilse is a very picky eater and only eats live meals. Right now she's nesting and getting ready to lay her eggs."

"Aww." I quipped. "Soon you're going to be a snake Daddy."

He wrinkled his nose. "Don't make it sound weird."

I chuckled. "I think it's cute tho, you having a pet reptile and all."

His mouth tilted up on one side. He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah you know, I get it, dogs and cats are great but I'm all about the wildlife plus she's low maintenance and a good cuddle partner who doesn't leave you all covered in hair afterward."

I looked at him and I just laughed. This guy was definitely more than what met the eye. "Must be fun but I think I'll stick with pets who won't eat me alive in my sleep."

He chuckled. "Come on." He grabbed the wine bottle. "It's game time."

In the living room, Xavier pressed a button on a remote control that had the classical strains of 'Madame Butterfly' playing subtly in the background.

"You listen to Puccini?" I asked, genuinely intrigued.

"Sometimes." He said as he settled in front of the coffee table already housing a deck of cards. "It's soothing, you don't like it?"

"I do." I settled across from him, sitting on the plush rug that felt like feathers underneath me. Tristan loved Puccini too. He listened to it all the time.

"I expected you to be more of a chess guy," I said when he picked up the cards and started shuffling with the speed of an expert.

"I'm good at that too, but I prefer poker." He dealt my cards. "Since we're speaking about personal observations, why don't you tell me what's going on in that mind of yours?"

I sipped my wine. "What makes you think I have anything on my mind?"

"For starters, you're here, which means you're hoping my company might help you achieve something."

I opened my mouth.

"And don't even think about lying." He cut me. "Because you're not the best when it comes to that either."

How was it possible that everyone saw through me so easily? I leaned forward on the table. "You know, you're quite the spectator."

"And now you're trying to change the subject."

"Is it working?"

"No."

I chuckled. "Alright fine, you caught me, I have been thinking."

"About what?"

"My mother's friend," I lied. "You know, the one I told you..."

"The pregnancy test one?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that one. She took the pregnancy test."

"What did it say?"

"Negative."

Examining my expression, he said. "With the look on your face, I'm guessing she wanted it to be something else."

"Actually," I sighed. "She was hoping for it to be negative but then again, she did have this longing for it to be positive, it's confusing."

"Well over-the-counter tests aren't always accurate, she should get a test from the hospital to be certain, who knows," he shrugged. "It might just come out positive."

"You think so?"

"There are a lot of cases where it does happen. And I mean even if it is proven to be a negative, if she really wants to have a child, she should talk to whoever she's with."

I let out a breath. "Even if she wants to she can't. Her man got a vasectomy."

"It's reversible."

"I doubt he would want to reverse it."

"He might if she's convincing enough. Having a baby and building a family is a beautiful thing that I believe everyone deserves to experience. She doesn't have to give up on her dreams just yet."

I nodded in agreement. "I'll let her know what you said. Thank you, Xavier," I smiled, feeling a sense of contentment that I hadn't expected to feel when I had leaned over that window earlier. "Thank you for always being kind."

He smiled. "That's as far as my charity goes because you losing this game."

I laughed. "Game on."

***

The morning light sliced through the curtains and burned into my eyes, making me groan and squeeze them tighter. Fucking hell. I pressed a hand to my temple, as if that would somehow quell the relentless pounding in my head. What the hell happened? I pried my eyes open. I was in my bedroom. How did I get here?

I rolled over, trying to piece together the events of last night that ended me up in this shit position but my memories floated in like fragments of a shattered mirror, disjointed and haze.

Xavier, laughter, clinking glasses, poker. I remembered being in his house, sipping wine, laughing, playing poker. He had Puccini on. The room felt warm and cozy, and the conversation flowed effortlessly. When we finished the first bottle of wine mid-game, he fetched another one. The wine was going down smoothly, and my inhibitions were slowly fading away. As the night progressed, I could feel the alcohol taking its effect. My laughter became a little too loud, my words were slurring slightly and my focus became unsteady.

"I think you've had enough for one night," Xavier stated, packing up the cards.

I pouted playfully, leaning against the table to grab the bottle. "Maybe just a little more,"

But Xavier gently took the bottle from my hand, placing it aside. "Let's call it a night, Sienna."

"Whyyyy?"

"Because your boyfriend will likely have my head on a stake if I let you indulge any further."

I laughed. "He will actually, he loves me too much."

"I can see why."

The next thing I knew, I was being hauled up on my feet with his arms firmly around my waist. "Can you stand?"

I nodded. "Y-yeah, yeah of course."

He let me go slowly. I took my first step forward and wavered. He caught me again.

"Sorry." I let out an embarrassed laugh. "Clumpsy as always."

"It's alright, I'll help you."

"No you don't have to, I can—oh shit!" I yelped when he swept me off my feet and cradled me in his arms effortlessly.

"Come on, let's get you home."

I pushed myself up, trying to remember more but the images in my mind were like puzzle pieces that refused to align. Yawning, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed in an attempt to get up but I instantly regretted that decision because the urge to vomit hit me like a ton of bricks; so urgent and undeniable that I pushed past the throbbing discomfort in my head and stumbled toward the bathroom to let it all out.

God. Fuck.

At this point throwing up had become so frequent that seeing my vomit didn't even make me recoil anymore.

When I finished, I turned on the faucet and splashed water on my face, hoping the cold shock would clear my thoughts and align my memories. That was when my eyes wandered to the counter and there it was, the pregnancy test from yesterday.

I reached out and picked up the test, examining it closely as if it held the answers to all my questions. My fingers trembled as I traced the little window that had seemed so reassuring yesterday. Negative. I had stared at that word for what felt like an eternity, my heart pounding in a mix of relief and anxiety but now, as I glanced at it again, doubt gnawed at me along with the interest for a redo.

Maybe I had taken it wrong. Maybe I should take the test again, just to be absolutely sure. I still had one strip left.

Momentarily pushing aside the physical discomfort and the throbbing headache, I walked back into my room and grabbed the packet. It was silly, I knew, but the uncertainty was hard to shake off.

The instructions were still fresh in my head so when I returned to the bathroom, I knew exactly what to do and how to do it. I followed the instructions with exaggerated care and set the test down on the edge of the sink when I was done.

Three more minutes.

I reached for my toothbrush, desperately needing to rid my mouth of the taste of last night's mistakes as well as distract myself from the ticking seconds.

One more minute.

I rinsed my mouth and washed my face. The timer beeped, multiplying the dread in my gut. My heart skipped a beat, then raced ahead like a runaway train. Swallowing, I turned to face the test and time seemed to stand still as I just stared at it.

Maybe I should get mum again.

I shook my head.

No. I needed to do this myself.

Taking a deep breath, I finally picked up the strip and just as I was about to turn it, my bedroom door opened, breaking my trance.

"Princess?"

I spun around, eyes wide.

Tristan.