The hard, cemented concrete rings softly as water droplets scatter over the flat surface. I focus on that. I try to focus on the noise, on the look of it- focus on anything but what I just heard- but no, life isn't that easy.

I'm pregnant. According to Gloria Connor's, my physician who had to explain the details to me twice, proclaimed conception took two weeks and it's been another two since then. I've been pregnant for a month and haven't even known it.

I'm having Stellan Reid's child.

Out of all the outrageous things taking place in my life, this hits the nail. This is it.

Stellan isn't even due back from Paris for another couple of days. I can't tell him this over the phone. I can't do it. Bleakly, I realize that I actually don't have anyone to tell it to- that I trust enough with the information.

With the trial approaching, I can't let this information get out until I'm showing. Until there's no way to hide it. Vance Water's has been particularly quiet these past couple of weeks and while that should make me happy, I find myself only more frightened that he's got his own evil, sick, twisted plan behind his belt, waiting to spring it on us when we're most vulnerable.

Will we be strong enough?

Will we be able to get through more heartache if it beckons?

My eyes wander from the gray, dirty ground as my hearing heightens loudly- a child is nearby. I look to a mother, holding her screaming child just barely, the toddler desperate to get out of the stronghold of her arms. Her hair is falling down from the bun she's put up, there are beads of sweat on her forehead despite the chilly weather.

She catches me looking and turns her face away, shaking her head. "Arnold- stop it!"

I stop in my place as they pass by me and turn to watch them go, my heartbeat wild. I'm torn from the two as someone's shoulder hits into mine, flinging me back.

"Walk, lady!"

Angrily, I look up as a man in a suit passes by on his phone. He looks down at me and his eyes go wide. I'm rather used to the look of recognition and not wanting to stop, I roll my eyes and move forward, forcing my feet forward in the sky high stilettos I picked out this morning.

There are photographers outside of Tremaine Franchises. They keep their distance thankfully, but I know they're snapping the photos all the while. Photos that will probably end up on newspapers and media outlets. I make my way in amongst the other busy bodies, unable to answer everyone's polite greetings.

My office is my safe haven. Once I get into it, I can be alone. I can think. I can work. I can figure out what to do.

Oli stands up as I exit the elevators, shrugging off my coat. My hair is soaked from the walk- I'm positive I look a complete mess.

"Iris?"

I nod with a small smile. "I'm fine."

"You're soaked."

"I'm fine," I repeat, sounding anything but. Who are you kidding, Tremaine?

...

The rumbling sound of washing machines are a calming mechanism. I keep my face to the ground, listening to the alternative rock playing over the speakers of laundry mat. The familiarity and comfort I feel here makes the drive worth while.

It always was easy to plan here.

I used to sit here, for hours sometimes and think of my next line or my next venture into modeling and long before that, I used to dream. I would dream of what it would be like to be normal.

To have a cookie-cutter family. A golden retriever named Sparky or Daisy. A mother who would pack my lunches for school, leaving little notes to let me know she cared. A father who would be able to scare the boys that tried to pursue me or be there to walk me down the aisle.

I was able to dream here. Now, I find myself staring at a bunch of dirty washers and dryers, Heart playing relentlessly in the background. I can't get the image of a newborn out of my head.

There is one growing in my stomach. Inside of me... A baby.

A baby that will depend on me. Will need me to care for it, love it, help it grow. Am I ready for this?

My mind wanders to Paris, when I was on the swing set with Stellan and I briefly wondered what it would be like to be a mother to someone... What it would be like considering I've never been around a mother figure.

While the head of the orphanage was kind and cared for me, she wasn't a mother. There were too many kids there to ever form any real attachment with her. My fingers wring together as I remember Vivienne's appearance in my office.

The woman thinks that just because she brought me into this world, that she belongs in mine? I don't care what her damn story is- I'd never leave a child like that. If I loved someone that much, a being that came from my own body, I'd never be able to leave.

I can't help the sigh that escapes my lips as I gaze at my flat, toned stomach. What am I going to do? When should I tell Stellan? How am I going to tell him?

Jesus, I can't even imagine how much this will scare him. He's barely holding onto things as it is.

I just hope he stays.

I hope a wedding will still be on.

...

I emerge from sleep as strong hands bind around my lax torso. I know the feel of them immediately.

"Stellan..."

The buttons of his shirt press against my back tightly as his lips graze across my bare shoulder. "God, I've missed you."

I come to the reality that I'm not dreaming and that he's actually holding me, days before he was supposed to. I turn my face, breathing deeply. "You're here?"

"I'm here, baby," he whispers, banishing my fears. I turn in a rush, hearing his surprised gasp as I wrap my arms around his shoulders, pressing my face into his shirt. The smell of his detergent is enough to make tears of relief form. "Whoa, you missed me as well, it seems."

"So much," I utter emotionally, my grip locked tight around his neck. His soft, sleek hair feels like heaven tangled by my fingers. His hands rub my back comfortingly over the sheet, moving in calming circles.

I take in those moments of silence, relishing the feel of his body against mine, imagining we were still the people we were a week ago... Because we aren't and he doesn't even know that yet.

"What's wrong?"

My eyes open wide against his chest and I'm suddenly nervous. I thought I'd have days to figure out what to say. I gape slightly and a lame excuse for a reply escapes my lips, sounding like a dying bird.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I'm just- I missed you. It's been a rough week."

"You haven't heard anything else from Viktor?"

"No. I don't suspect I will, to be honest... I don't know what's happened to him. I mean, we've fought before but I've never seen him like this."

"It's because of me."

"It's not like I cut him off when I met you. I still talked to him multiple times a day."

He's quiet for a moment. "Do you- this is going to sound crazy- but do you possibly think Viktor could be bi-sexual?"

I pull back from his chest, wide-eyed. "No. I mean, he's never spoken about women like that before. I could change around him, shower around him and he wouldn't even look up from his tablet."

"Change in front of him? Shower in front of him?"

I roll my eyes. "He's gay, Stellan. I've known him long enough to know that."

"... It's so strange. He's never hated me, he didn't hate me a month ago. How could he have such a drastic change since then?"

"I don't know... I really don't."

A smile warms my cheeks as I feel him push my hair back away from my face in the dark. "A week was too long."

I nod, running my hand over his shirt. "Way too long... Were you able to get everything done?"

"Yes, my boxes are being sent and I donated everything else, really."

"And... Ronald? Your job?"

"Taken care of," he murmurs, smiling softly. I release a breath of frustration, frowning.

"I am sorry you had to do that."

"I'm good with the decision. I need to be here."

"I'm so glad you are," I confess, feeling his hand travel down the base of my neck, down my spinal cord underneath the sheet. My eyes close as his fingers splay against my bare hip and over my backside. I barely have enough time to open my eyes once more before he takes my mouth with force, pulling my body into his.

I'm breathless, half from pleasure and partly, from nervousness. With shaking hands, I reach up, grasping the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one. I don't know what I should do. I don't know how to tell him.

"You're trembling," he states, pulling back. Grasping my hand, he moves me back against the mattress, pulling down the sheet slowly. I watch his eyes move over the spaces that become uncovered, swallowing with difficulty. His lips move over the space between my breasts and further down- they press to my navel and I gasp, lifting my back up in pleasure. "There we go. Relax for me, baby."

His strong, determined tongue has me undone not once, but twice before he moves off the bed, removing the shirt I forgot to unbutton all the way and his tight, fitted jeans. My eyes flicker to the bedside drawer as he bends over, opening it.

I feel my face redden even deeper... I should tell him. But how can I? Right now?

"Stellan..."

Naked and looking very much like an angel in the moonlight, he comes over me, careful not to settle too firmly onto me. His lips find mine and he breathes the word against them, "What?"

Fucking coward! Just do it! You'll feel better once you get it out there. He pushes back a strand of my hair sweetly, tucking it behind my ear. I close my eyes as he presses his lips to my temple, then my cheek- he showers me with love, exactly what I need.

"Iris?"

I shake my head, pressing my lips together. "Take me. Just take me, Stellan."

Because then at least, if he leaves when he finds out, I'll have this moment. I'll remember this perfect moment where we were everything the other needed and nothing else. He presses his lips to my cheek lightly and nods.

"Turn over."

He backs up enough as I turn over, laying flat onto my stomach. My nerves have gotten the best of me, making me feel shy and fairly anxious. I hope he isn't noticing.

I turn my face towards his as he settles behind me, his strong arm coming around my front. He enters me slowly, moaning at the tightness of my closed legs. I drop my head down onto the bed as he begins moving above me, closing my eyes tightly.

"Jesus Christ."

"You feel so good."

We rock together, rhythmically sound as usual between us; his mouth on my neck, whispering soft, explicit confessions in my ear. I clutch the bed sheet tighter, gritting my teeth as he groans, producing my favorite sound in the world.

I turn my face, looking for one thing in particular: his lips. Breathing heavy, he kisses me briefly, breaking away only to gasp for oxygen. We're sweaty and shaking, the pleasure mind-blowing. Whether it's our feelings for each other or just his sheer talent, I don't know but in my twenty-six years of living, I've never know anything as amazing than being in bed with him. Nothing.

"Lift your hips."

I do so, surprised when he begins moving faster, dropping a hand onto the bed to support himself. I gasp, smiling deliciously as his other hand moves under my body, touching my sex gently, circling my clit perfectly.

"Jesus Christ- you're trying to kill me."

"No, not that," he answers with a breathless chuckle. My smile fades as my body begins to tense and pull beneath him. It takes everything I have not to drop my hips back onto the bed.

"Oh- my-"

"Yes- yes."

"Fuck!" I cry out as my legs clamp together and my body drops back down, unable to help it. He follows me as if he were expecting it and his hand leaves my sex to grip my hip tightly as he releases, gasping against my back. My eyes close languidly, a small smile on my face as he settles back onto me.

Touching gently, we drift off to sleep exactly like that.

A/N: FIRST CHAPTER! LET ME KNOW HOW YOU LIKE IT?!?!? Excited to show you all the craziness this story has in store for you guys!