Chapter 86 #86

Chapter 86 #86
Chapter 86
~ Shailyn ~

I'm still sitting in the kitchen, staring at the remnants of breakfast, when I hear footsteps on the stairs. My heart does this stupid little jump that makes me hate myself.

Dwayne appears in the doorway, hair slightly messy, wearing a gray sweater that makes his eyes look darker. He's holding the empty bowl.

"Hey," he says, his voice still rough with sleep.

"Hey." I try to sound casual. "You're finally up."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Long night." He crosses to the sink and rinses the bowl. "That pasta was incredible, by the way. Thank you."

"It was just leftovers. No big deal."

He turns to look at me, leaning against the counter. "It was a big deal to me. You didn't have to do that."

I shrug, suddenly finding the table very interesting. "Rosa said you were still sleeping. I thought you might be hungry when you woke up."

"Well, I was. And it was perfect." He's quiet for a moment, then adds, "The note was sweet too."

My cheeks heat up. "It was just a note."

"Shailyn." His voice is softer now. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What are you doing today?"

I blink at the change in subject. "Uh, nothing really. Dante's out with contractors. I was thinking about maybe starting on some Christmas dinner setup or…"

"Come out with me."

"What?"

"Snow making. There's this perfect spot about twenty minutes from here. The snow's supposed to be great today." He grins, and there's something boyish about it that makes my stomach flutter. "Come on, when's the last time you actually played in the snow?"

"Dwayne, I don't know…"

"You've been cooped up. The fresh air will be good for you. Good for the baby too, probably."

I hesitate. "I have things to do."

"Like what? Sitting here overthinking everything?" He raises an eyebrow. "I saw your face when I walked in. You looked miserable."

"I did not."

"You did." He pushes off the counter. "Come on. Just a couple hours. I'll have you back before Dante even knows you left."

Something about the way he says it, casual, easy, like it's no big deal, makes me want to say yes. "Okay. Fine. But I need to change into something warmer."

"Perfect. Meet me by the car at fifteen?"

"Make it twenty."

He smiles. "Deal."

…

Twenty minutes later, I come down the stairs in my warmest coat, a scarf wrapped around my neck, gloves in my pockets. Dwayne's waiting by the door, keys in hand.

"You look ready for an arctic expedition," he says, amused.

"I'm pregnant. I get cold easier now." I followed him out to his car. "Besides, you said snow. Snow means cold."

"Fair point."

We drive in comfortable silence for a few minutes before I speak. "You know, this feels like a couple things to do."

He glances at me, something flickering in his expression. "Good thing we will be one."

My breath catches. "What?"

"A couple. Of friends. Going out." His tone is light, but there's an edge to it. "That's what you meant, right?"

"Right. Yeah. Of course." I look out the window, my heart hammering.

The spot he takes me to is beautiful, a clearing surrounded by trees, everything blanketed in white. The snow is fresh and untouched, sparkling in the winter sun.

"Oh wow," I breathe, stepping out of the car.

"Told you." Dwayne comes around to my side. "Come on."

We walk into the clearing, and immediately he bends down, scooping up snow and packing it into a ball.

"Don't you dare," I warn.

"Dare what?" He grins, tossing the snowball up and catching it.

"Dwayne, I swear…"

He throws it, but not at me. It hits a tree trunk a few feet away, exploding into powder. "Relax. I'm not going to hit a pregnant woman with a snowball. What kind of monster do you think I am?"

I laugh, surprising myself. "A pretty big one sometimes."

"Ouch." He clutches his chest dramatically. "You wound me, Shay."

I bend down awkwardly, because of my belly, and make my own snowball. "You'll survive."

"What are you doing?"

"Making ammunition." I straighten up, weighing the snowball in my hand. "In case you change your mind about not hitting pregnant women."

"Noted." He starts making another snowball, and soon we're building a small arsenal, laughing like kids.

"I haven't done this in years," I say, my cheeks hurting from smiling. "This is ridiculous."

"Ridiculous is good sometimes." He looks at me, and his expression softens. "You needed this."

"Maybe I did."

We spend the next hour playing in the snow, not throwing snowballs at each other, but at trees, seeing who can hit the farthest target. I can't remember the last time I felt this light, this free.

Eventually, I start to feel the cold seeping through my layers. "Okay, I think I need to head back."

"You sure? We can stay longer."

"I'm sure. My toes are going numb." I start walking back toward the car, and he falls into step beside me.

"Thank you for coming out with me," he says quietly. "I know you almost said no."

"I'm glad I didn't." I mean it. "This was really nice."

"It was, wasn't it?" He opens the car door for me. "We should do it again sometime."

"Maybe." I slide into the passenger seat, and he closes the door gently.

The drive back is quieter, more contemplative. When we pull up to the house, neither of us moves immediately.

"Shay," Dwayne says finally.

"Yeah?"

"I care about you. You know that, right?"

My throat tightens. "Dwayne…”

"I'm not….I'm just saying. You're important to me. To this family." He turns to look at me. "And I want you to take care of yourself. Not just physically, but emotionally too. You matter."

"Thank you," I whisper, not trusting my voice to say more.

"Anytime." He smiles, but there's something sad in it. "Come on. Let's get you inside before you freeze."

We walk to the door together, and he holds it open for me. I step into the warmth of the house, but I don't immediately go upstairs to change.

Instead, I stand in the hallway, watching as Dwayne heads toward the kitchen, his words echoing in my head.

I care about you. You're important to me.

Good thing we will be one.

What did he mean by that? Was it really just about being friends? Or was there something else underneath those words, something I'm too afraid to acknowledge?

I press my hand against my stomach, feeling the small bump there. I'm married to Dante. I'm carrying his child. This should be simple.

But nothing feels simple anymore.

The house is quiet around me, and I can hear Rosa moving around upstairs, the distant hum of the heater. Normal sounds. Safe sounds.

So why do I feel like everything just shifted, like I'm standing on the edge of something I can't take back?

I close my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, trying to make sense of the confusion swirling inside me.

But all I can think about is Dwayne's voice, soft and certain: You matter.

And the terrifying truth is, I wanted to hear him say it.