Neva had never known five minutes could be so gruesomely long until now, as she awaits the result that could turn both her and her husband's world upside down.
"Relax, Angel." Rhett slips an arm around her waist and pulls her against him.
She rests her head against his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt as his arms wrap around her in a comforting embrace.
Still, her heart races as though it might beat right out of her chest,
and no matter how hard she tries to breathe evenly, she's only suffocating.
"You're nervous," he whispers gently.
"Is it time yet?" she asks instead, her voice scarcely more than a breath.
"Just two more minutes." He brushes the stray curls from her face.
She lifts her gaze to meet the gentle calmness in his eyes. Yet she avoids reading too much into it, afraid she might only end up disappointing him... hurting him.
What if it's negative?
What if he's sure it isn't? What if she reads him wrong because of the turmoil churning within her, and it isn't him at all?
"If you're not pregnant," he says, a touch of playfulness coloring his voice. "We can just try harder."
"You're not helping at all," she murmurs,
though, somehow, he had managed to lighten the weight of her thoughts.
Then, all at once, a new fear crashes through the fragile windows of her mind.
What if she keeps disappointing him? What if she can't give him the one thing he longs for?
And what about herself?
If the test is positive... is she even ready?
If it isn't... will she wish it had been?
It doesn't matter. Whatever her Father wills, she will receive it with an open heart.
Neva pulls away from Rhett and starts to climb off the bed when he catches her wrist.
"Where are you going?" he asks with a small frown.
"I need some fresh air," she says,
instead of admitting that she can't really breathe with the tiny test kit weighing on her chest like a mountain.
"Do you want me to open the window—" He doesn't finish as a sharp beep from the timer on his phone sets off a new alarm within her.
With a press of his finger, he silences the timer before meeting her eyes. "Should I look at it for you?" he asks gently.
"Yes, please," she breathes, frozen in her spot. Her mouth is as parched as a desert, and she can't remember ever being this afraid even when the entrances results for Vernellia University were released.
He picks up the test kit from the nightstand and studies it for what feels like a cruel eternity of an impenetrable silence. He turns to her.
"It's positive," he says.
Everything seems to slow down,
and every part of her being narrows down to the spark dancing in his eyes, as if the sun itself had kindled a new light within them.
Yet everything suddenly feels unreal.
She... she doesn't know what to feel.
"What's wrong, Angel?" he asks, confusion flickering across his face.
"Can I see it?" she asks quietly.
He extends the test kit toward her, and despite asking for it herself, she hesitates for a beat before finally taking it.
Two pink lines, distinct and unmistakable, herald the hopeful
promise of a new life... growing inside her.
A life... A baby growing inside her?
"Do you think it could be wrong?" she asks quietly.
"I don't think so."
"I can't believe it."
A smile warms his face as he tucks a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "You should," he murmurs. "It's three of us now."
It's too soon.
Yes, they wanted to become parents someday, if God willed to bless them with children.
But this... This is too soon.
She would barely be nineteen next month.
She still has so much of herself to sort through.
And above her looms a great storm cloud, threatening to ensnare her in its vicious gale.
"Angel," he says, reaching for her hand, but she abruptly climbs off the bed.
Hurt flashes across his eyes,
but she can't... she can't find it in herself to feel guilty about it.
"What's wrong?" he asks, stepping toward her.
But she turns away and starts toward the doorway.
Numb to her feelings, yet consumed by blinding thoughts, she crosses the
parlour with a conflicted heart.
She pulls the door open and steps onto the porch, a cool breeze stirring her curls,
when a firm hand catches her by the elbow, halting her in her tracks.
"Where are you going?" He turns her until she faces him.
She hadn't even realized he'd followed her.
"Come back inside," he says. "You'll catch a cold out here."
Night has fallen over Ziriri and a cold wind rustles through the trees in the yard. She doesn't even know why she came out here.
She lets him lead her back inside their
home before he closes the door behind them, shutting out the freezing air.
She lingers there, unbeknownst even to herself, and subconsciously rests a hand over her lower belly.
A faint smile touches his lips as he closes the distance between them, gently placing his hand over hers.
"How are we going to do this?"
"Angel..."
"Are we safe here forever?"
"Look at me." He takes her chin between his fingers. "It's going to be all right.
With my life... I will keep you both safe."
Tears burn in her eyes. "We are in hiding... because of me, in some far, foreign land."
"It's not your fault," he says gently. "And these past months have been peaceful, haven't they? If everything goes well, we could even make this our home forever."
"They live by their own rules.
And this world is cruel... so cruel." Tears slip down her cheeks. "...Especially to children."
His eyes soften.
"I saw them, laughing after they'd murdered them. After they'd—" She falters on sharpening breaths. "After... after those children—" A choked sob escapes her.
He immediately pulls her against his chest.
"They were there for me," she cries, her fists tightening against his shirt. "I know they were there for me—''
"Shh... Angel." He presses a kiss to the crown of her head. "You were never to blame for what they did. Never."
"What they did to Noah—"
"He's in a better place," he says softly. "He's not in pain anymore."
"I'm scared," she whimpers. "I'm scared almost every day that this won't last. That they'll take you away from me. That they'll take everything I love away from me."
"Have faith," he murmurs. "It'll be all right. We'll get through this together."
She sniffles against his chest. She has faith in the Lord. She does. And yet, why does she still let her heart cave in fear? Why can't she be more devoted to her Father?
"Should we pray together?" he says.
She nods faintly against him, while he continues to hold her close, and she doesn't have it in herself to pull away.
Silently, she prays to her Father; for the haunting echoes to fade, for a heart more trusting toward Him,
for the grace to become a better version of herself, for her husband...
and for the new life growing inside her.