Chapter 182 The Surprise
The drive home was quiet, but the air inside the car felt different. It was electric and overflowing with a secret only one of them knew.
Luke kept glancing at Peach suspiciously, who was humming a soft melody, her eyes fixed on the moonlit road as a wide grin plastered on her lips.
"You're awfully quiet," Luke noted, pulling into the driveway. "The dinner with your father... it went better than I expected."
"It was exactly what it needed to be," she said, her smile cryptic and glowing.
“Hmm? What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” She giggled, making the man suspicious now as it was boiling in her mind.
“Woman, are you hiding something from me? Did your Father tell you something?” He asked playfully, pinching her cheek.
“Focus on the road for now, Mister.” She grinned.
Luke was intrigued, wondering what it must be.
When they stepped into their bedroom, Luke froze. The dim bedside lamps had been replaced by a festive glow, rushing a sudden silent panic in the man.
A small, elegant cake sat on the vanity, and beside it, a beautifully wrapped box tied with a heavy silk ribbon.
His eyes swept over the embellished room, repeating it like a loop.
"Peach? What’s all this?" Luke asked, his voice tinged with a sudden, comical panic. He began mentally scrolling through a calendar, dates and their events.
‘Is it our anniversary? Her birthday? Did I miss a milestone?’ He gulped, looking at her.
"I hope I’m not forgetting something vital, or I might have to go back to the precinct and turn myself in for negligence." He scratched the back of his neck, trying to sound persuasive to make her spill.
Peach laughed, the resonance bright and musical, "Just open it, Luke."
With trembling fingers, Luke cut the cake first, his mind still racing. Praying it wasn’t something unwanted.
Then, he turned to the gift. He pulled the ribbon slowly, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He lifted the lid, and his breath stopped.
Inside, nestled in white tissue paper, was a tiny, soft-as-cloud newborn set. A miniature cardigan, a hat with little ears, and tiny booties—all in a vibrant, unmistakable pale shade of… pink.
Luke stood paralyzed.
He looked at the tiny clothes, then at Peach’s stomach, then back at the clothes, repeating it like a loop. The shock was so profound he forgot how to speak.
"Boy or girl," Peach smirked, stepping into his space and resting her hands over his.
"They’re wearing pink on the first day. It’s non-negotiable."
"You’re..." Luke’s voice faded in between. "We’re..."
"We are," she whispered, her eyes welling with happy tears as the reality struck him like a bolt of electricity, converting his every emotion into sheer delight..
“Oh… Peach.”
Luke dropped the box onto the bed and pulled her into him, his movements frantic and filled with a raw, overwhelming tenderness.
He buried his face in her neck, his shoulders shaking with a sob of pure, uncontrollable joy.
"A baby," he breathed against her skin. "Our baby?"
“I hope you are interested to work on this project with me, Mr. Grayson.” She winked, pulling him closer to her.
He laughed, “I would love to, Mrs. Grayson!”
Failing to bottle his felicity, he scooped her up, lifting her off the ground as if she weighed no more than a feather to him.
He spun her in a slow, dizzying circle in the center of their room, his laughter echoing against the walls.
The resonance of their exhilaration engraved in the wall of their home, the happiness that had been missing from his life for far too long.
"Careful, careful!" she giggled, her hands clutching his shoulders, her own face radiant with the triumph of her surprise.
He set her down gently, but he didn't let go. He kept his hands on her waist, his eyes searching hers with a desperate sort of clarity.
"A new future, Luke," she promised, cupping his face and forcing him to look at her. "Our future."
In that moment, the shadows of Liyah, the bitterness of the past, the anguish of Peach’s betrayal- all the complaints he carried once were obliterated.
They were clearing the air for the last time, sweeping away the wreckage to build something permanent.
"I promise you," Luke whispered, the glee filling his voice.
"No more complaints. No more looking back. It’s just us. You, me, and this little one. I am yours, Peach. Eternally. Every breath, every day." He promised wholeheartedly, kissing her hand, closing his eyes briefly to sway in the moment.
"And I am yours," she breathed, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, "Always."
Luke’s gaze dropped to her still-flat stomach. With a reverence that made his hands tremble, he reached out and placed his palm against her warmth.
It was a silent greeting to the future they had fought so hard to protect.
He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as if to connect this moment into his soul.
"Oh, Peach, you have no idea how exhilarated I am. I.. I thought we won’t be able to experience a beautiful day like this," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin but the quivering and heartache was presence.
"I.. I…” He gulped, tears filling his eyes when he stared intensely at the woman, “I love you, Peach, I have loved you for years, I wanted to propose that day so you won’t go.”
“I know, I know. That is why I kept the ring with me all these years.” She whispered, kissing his knuckles as a tear pricked in her eyes too.
Peach’s eyes filled with tears, soul-deep relief. She had spent years chasing his heart, only to realize he had been holding onto hers all along.
"I will always be yours, Peach," he vowed, kissing the tip of her nose. "From the lecture halls to this room, and every day after. You are my great treasure."
She pulled him closer, her heart beating in sync with his, finally at peace in the sanctuary they had built from the ashes.
Luke leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. He kissed her forehead, then her eyelids, then finally her lips. "Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for bringing me into the light."
"I told you," Peach whispered, her grin returning, though her eyes remained soft. "I want you and I will get you."
Luke laughed, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room, the pink newborn set sitting on the bed as a silent witness to the fact that the war was over, and the healing had finally begun.