June, 1999
The florist shop was a sensory overload of colors and scents, a quiet escape from the chaos their engagement had stirred. Addie wandered between the rows of flowers, her fingers brushing over petals as she tried to picture bouquets and centerpieces. Her steps slowed as she reached a row of lilies, their soft, ivory petals curling like whispers of elegance. She paused, lifting one from the display, its sweet, calming fragrance filling the air.
Addie smiled softly to herself. She’d always loved lilies. There was something comforting about them—timeless, understated, and yet somehow commanding attention without demanding it. They reminded her of home, of her grandmother’s estate gardens, where they bloomed in neat rows along cobblestone paths.
She turned, holding the lily up for Leo to inspect. “Do you think lilies are too simple for a wedding?”
Leo was leaning casually against the counter, his hands tucked into his pockets, watching her with that signature smirk of his. “Addie, it’s a flower. Not a statement on the economy.”
Her lips twitched, and she smirked right back, her eyebrow arching. “It’s not just a flower. It’s the flower. Our flower. The one people will stare at while they whisper about how much effort went into this wedding.”
Leo raised a brow, his amusement deepening. He knew exactly what she was hinting at. Two weeks. It had only been two bloody weeks since they told her parents about the engagement, and already, their lives were overrun by “the royal wedding machine.” Addie’s grandmother had sent them the royal wedding planner —a woman who, by all appearances, had never smiled in her life—and she’d spent every day since interrogating them about color schemes, venues, guest lists, and, of course, flowers.
And what better way to figure that last part out than to escape to a flower shop, just the two of them?
Leo pushed off the counter, sauntering over to her with the kind of confidence that made her heart stutter. He plucked the lily from her hand and tucked it gently behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek. “I think it’s perfect. Just like you.”
Her cheeks flushed, but before she could say anything, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “And for the record, I’d marry you today if you’d let me.”
Addie’s lips curled into a playful smile. “Oh, today, is it? How about in the parking lot?”
“Easy,” Leo shot back without missing a beat.
She tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “What about a drive-thru chapel in Vegas? You could wear one of those Elvis jumpsuits.”
His grin widened as he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “I draw the line at the jumpsuit. But if that’s what you want, darling, consider it done.”
She was about to come up with something even more outrageous, but before the words left her lips, he silenced her with a kiss. His lips were warm, firm, and impossibly persuasive, and by the time he pulled back, her thoughts were nothing but a hazy blur.
“I’d marry you anywhere,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers.
Addie let out a soft laugh, her fingers curling into the front of his shirt. “Good answer.”
Their moment, however, was shattered by the sudden, sharp clack of heels against the tiled floor. A voice, crisp and laced with irritation, broke through the shop’s floral tranquility.
“WHERE have you two been?!”
Addie turned to find the wedding planner standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression a mix of exasperation and barely concealed disdain. “I said to meet me at the Leslie’s flower shop three streets over two hours ago.”
Leo’s eyes met Addie’s, and for a split second, they both froze. And then—barely containing their laughter—they exchanged a look that said everything: they’d come here to escape her, and they’d been caught.
“Well,” Leo said, his voice unbothered as he reached for another lily, “we’ve decided. We’re going with lilies.”
The planner’s brows shot up. “Lilies? They’re too simple. For a royal—”
“We’re. Going. With. Lilies.” Leo’s tone was calm but firm, the kind that brooked no argument. He gave the planner a pointed look, his arm still wrapped around Addie’s waist like a shield.
The woman opened her mouth to protest, then snapped it shut. Her jaw tightened, but she nodded curtly. “Very well. Lilies it is.”
As she turned to storm out of the shop, muttering something about time being wasted, Leo leaned down to whisper in Addie’s ear. “Worth every second.”
Addie tilted her head back, her laughter soft but genuine as she looked up at him. In that moment, surrounded by lilies and his unwavering certainty, she felt it all over again—the pure, unshakable joy of being in love with Leonardo Azure.
July, 1999
Much to the dismay of their wedding planner, it had taken over a month to pick a venue. The first question—more accurately, argument—was a classic standoff: London or New York. Leo, as usual, had been easygoing, content with either option as long as he was marrying Addie. The planner, however, insisted it had to be London.
“Westminster Abbey or St. George’s Chapel. It’s tradition,” the woman had said with an air of finality, as though it were written in some royal decree.
Addie had arched a brow at that, her arms crossed. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve never been much for tradition.”
And just like that, the planner’s resolve collided with Addie’s. Addie refused to back down, voicing her desire for something more personal, more them. Somewhere where they wouldn’t be drowned by centuries of royal history. After weeks of heated discussions—and a reluctant call to Addie’s parents and her grandmother—it was settled. New York. A city that Addie had fallen in love with over the months, chaotic and vibrant, like her heart whenever Leo was near.
And so here they were.
The New York City skyline stretched out before them, a breathtaking tapestry of light and shadow. The air was crisp, carrying the faint hum of the city that never slept. Addie stood on the terrace of the potential venue, her fingers lightly gripping the stone railing as her gaze swept over the city below. Just beyond the terrace stood the chapel she’d chosen for the ceremony—a timeless, elegant space with tall, arched windows that bathed the interior in golden light. But it was this terrace that caught her heart. She could already picture it: guests mingling, glasses clinking, the sound of laughter carrying on the breeze as the city lights glittered in the background.
Her lips curved into a soft smile as she tried to imagine the day—her in her wedding dress, the flowers (the lilies she loved), and most of all, Leo waiting for her at the end of the aisle. It felt surreal.
She turned back to find him standing a few feet away, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his tailored coat, his blue eyes fixed on her. The way he looked at her… It was like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, and for a moment, her heart felt like it might burst.
“What do you think?” she asked, her voice carrying just the faintest tremor of hope.
Leo’s lips curved into that infuriatingly charming smile, and he stepped forward, closing the space between them. “I think it’s perfect,” he said simply, his voice soft yet steady. “But mostly because you’re here.”
Addie rolled her eyes, though warmth bloomed in her chest at his words. Typical Leo. “Be serious for once. Can you picture it?”
He leaned against the railing beside her, his gaze sweeping over the terrace and the skyline beyond. “I can picture it,” he said, his voice lower now, more intimate. “You, walking toward me in a white dress, making me the luckiest man alive.”
Her breath hitched. She tried to suppress the smile threatening to break across her face, but it was no use. She leaned into his side, resting her head against his shoulder. The warmth of him, the steadiness of his presence, felt like home.
“I love you,” she murmured, her voice soft but filled with everything she couldn’t put into words.
Leo smirked down at her, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “I know.”
“Leo!” she protested, laughing as she shoved him lightly, her cheeks flushing with exasperation and affection.
He caught her hand mid-shove, his fingers curling around hers as he brought it to his lips. The kiss was tender, deliberate, and it made her heart stutter. “I love you too,” he said, the humor in his tone softening into something deeper.
Addie closed her eyes briefly, letting herself absorb the moment. This was what happiness felt like—simple, untainted, and hers. She couldn’t help but think back to how far they’d come, from stolen glances to this life they were building together. Her fingers brushed against the smooth fabric of his sleeve, grounding herself in the present. This was real.
August, 1999
Peanut butter jelly time. Peanut butter jelly time. Peanut butter jelly, Peanut butter jelly—
Addie’s mind was fully immersed in the silly tune she’d seen on TV as she stood at the kitchen counter. A loaf of bread sat in front of her, and she was clumsily spreading peanut butter on one slice. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she trieddddd to smooth it out perfectly, though the bread was beginning to tear from her enthusiastic pressure.
She didn’t hear the soft sound of footsteps enter the kitchen until she flicked her wrist for another swipe of peanut butter, only to feel her movement abruptly halted. Warm fingers closed around her wrist, and she froze, looking up to find Leo staring down at her, an expression somewhere in the “horrified” spectrum on his face.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice was calm but carried an air of absolute… err… fear.
Addie jumped slightly at his voice but quickly recovered, meeting his gaze with a raised brow. “Making a PB&J,” she said defensively, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I saw it on TV. Americans eat them all the time.”
Leo’s eyes darted to the unevenly spread peanut butter, the torn bread, and then back to Addie. He gently pried the knife from her hand, careful to place it far out of reach. “Absolutely not. You’re banned from the kitchen, remember?”
Addie scowled, her hands landing on her hips. “It’s not cooking! It’s spreading.”
Leo crossed his arms, leaning against the counter with a smirk. “Do I need to remind you about the toast incident? Or the pasta that turned into glue? Or the time you nearly burned down the kitchen trying to make tea?”
Addie’s jaw dropped, her cheeks flushing with indignation. “Hey! Not fair. Those were accidents!”
He leaned closer, a mischievous glint in his eye. “What about the time the blender exploded? Or when you used salt instead of sugar in brownies? Which were really just a puddle of brown water and chocolate chips…”
“THAT WAS A YEAR AGO,” she huffed, stomping over to the pantry and throwing the door open. “I’ve grown!”
The jelly was, unfortunately, on the top shelf. Addie stood on her toes, stretching her arm as far as it would go, but it was no use. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Leo carefully putting the knife far out of her reach, just in case she decided to go rogue again.
“I’m perfectly capable of reaching it,” she muttered to herself, stepping back and attempting a little jump. She swiped at the jar, her fingertips brushing the glass before her balance wavered.
Suddenly, she felt hands on her waist, steadying her and lifting her off the ground—away from the pantry and her mission. Leo set her down and stepped in front of her, effectively blocking her path.
“Sure you’ve grown,” he said, grinning as he leaned casually against the pantry door which was now CLOSED. “But not in the kitchen.”
“Leo,” she said warningly, trying to sidestep him.
“Addie,” he mimicked, his grin widening. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it.”
She narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms. “I want independence.”
“In the kitchen?” He raised a brow. “Not a chance.”
Despite herself, a laugh bubbled up. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re adorable,” he countered, his voice softening as he leaned closer. He kissed her nose, his hands slipping to her waist. “Now, go sit down before you hurt yourself.”
Addie rolled her eyes but didn’t move. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Leo’s smirk deepened. Before she could react, his hands tightened on her waist, and he lifted her effortlessly, setting her down on the counter. “Fine. You can stay here.”
His lips found hers before she could protest, the kiss warm and teasing. Addie tried to pull back, her cheeks flushed, but Leo’s hands framed her face, keeping her close.
“Is this a distraction?” she asked, her voice breathless as she leaned back slightly, her eyes narrowing at him.
“If I say yes, will you stay distracted?” His voice was low, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.
“Leo—”
Before she could finish her thought, his lips found her neck, and his hands slid up her thighs, pushing the hem of her dress higher. Addie’s resolve crumbled in an instant. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed a line down her collarbone, his touch making her pulse race.
“Fine,” she whispered, her voice catching. “Fine. We do this right now, and then you finish making my food.”
Leo’s answering smirk was wicked, his fingers already moving to unzip his pants. “Deal.”
Addie shook her head but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face as his lips met hers again, every thought of peanut butter and jelly forgotten.
September, 1999
Wedding planning had been both exhilarating and exhausting. Over the past few months, Addie and Leo had thrown themselves into it, ticking off tasks one by one. They’d chosen a breathtaking venue overlooking the New York City skyline. They’d finalized the flowers—elegant white lilies that Addie had fallen in love with instantly. They’d completed a dreamy photoshoot for their invitations, and the “Save the Dates” were just waiting to be sent out. Each decision, though painstaking, brought them one step closer to the day that they would finally say “I do.”
But as much as Addie loved the progress they’d made, the whirlwind of appointments, meetings, and endless questions had started to wear her thin. The wedding coordinator, her parents, Leo’s… family—everyone seemed to have an opinion on every detail, and the weight of pleasing so many people had been… a lot.
Leo had sensed it, of course. He always did. And so, when he suggested they take a night off—just the two of them—she didn’t hesitate. No planners. No checklists. No responsibilities. Just them.
The bonfire crackled softly, its warm glow casting flickering shadows over the grassy field. Addie sat on a thick picnic blanket, her knees drawn to her chest as she watched the firelight dance. In the distance, the night stretched on endlessly, the stars dotting the inky sky like a scattering of diamonds.
It was peaceful. For the first time in weeks, the chaos melted away, leaving only the sound of crickets chirping and the occasional pop of the fire.
Leo had insisted on packing the picnic himself, and Addie couldn’t help but smile as she glanced at the remnants of their meal. The man had packed more food than they could ever eat—sandwiches, fruit, even her favorite chocolate truffles. She hadn’t missed the way he’d watched her as she ate, a satisfied smile on his lips every time she took a bite.
Now, he was lying on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, the other stretched out toward her. His long legs were crossed at the ankles, his casual confidence making her chest ache in the best way.
The soft light from the fire and the distant glow of the moon illuminated his face, sharpening his jawline and highlighting the mischievous curve of his lips. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of his chest, and Addie found herself staring, her heart fluttering as if it were their first date all over again.
“Not bad,” she murmured, her gaze flicking between him and the stars.
Leo’s eyes shifted toward her, one brow arching in that way that always made her feel seen. “Not bad?” he repeated, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “I think the fireworks really make the night.”
Addie tilted her head, her smirk mirroring his. “I wasn’t talking about the fireworks.”
His chuckle rumbled low in his chest, and he extended his hand, curling his fingers around hers to tug her down beside him. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“And you’re lucky I love you,” she quipped, her voice teasing as she rested her head on his shoulder.
Leo turned his head slightly, his lips brushing against her forehead. He didn’t pull away immediately, lingering there like he was memorizing the moment. “I’ll never stop being lucky.”
The words sent warmth spreading through Addie’s chest. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling the scent of the fire and the faint trace of Leo’s cologne. “You know, if you keep saying things like that, I might start to believe you’re a romantic.”
“Might?” he teased, shifting so that he could wrap his arm around her waist. “Addie, I planned this entire night for you. I packed your favorite snacks. I even remembered those little truffles you can’t live without. If that’s not romance, I don’t know what is.”
“Fine,” she admitted, her smile tugging wider. “You’re romantic. But only tonight. Tomorrow, you’ll go back to beinggggg… insufferable.”
Leo laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Insufferable, huh? I’ll remind you of that the next time you’re begging me to distract you from wedding planning.”
“Begging?” Addie scoffed, her head lifting to glare at him. “I don’t beg.”
“Oh, you beg.” His grin was downright wicked now, and Addie couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips as he suddenly rolled, pinning her to the blanket.
“Do you deny it?” he asked, his weight braced on his forearms as he hovered over her.
“Absolutely,” she said, her tone defiant even as her pulse quickened.
“Liar,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against hers.
The kiss was slow at first, soft and teasing, but it quickly deepened. Addie’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the world around them melted away. The fire crackled beside them, its warmth nothing compared to the heat spreading between them.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathless, Leo pressed his forehead against hers. “I love you.”
“I know,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his in another fleeting kiss. “I love you too.”
The moment was interrupted by a sudden burst of light in the sky. Fireworks exploded above them, painting the night in vibrant reds, blues, and golds. Addie rolled onto her back, her head resting against Leo’s chest as they watched the display together.
“You planned this, didn’t you?” she asked, her voice laced with affection.
“What can I say?” Leo replied, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her arm. “I like seeing you smile.”
Addie tilted her head to look up at him, her heart swelling as she took in the soft curve of his lips, the way his eyes shone in the light of the fireworks.
In that moment, with the world falling away and only Leo beside her, Addie felt like the luckiest person alive.
October, 1999
Holly’s tiny paws skittered across the polished hardwood floor as she barreled toward the couch, her fluffy white tail wagging like a blur. The little maltese puppy, now just shy of her first birthday, was a bundle of boundless energy. She let out an excited yip as she caught sight of one of her toys—a plush squirrel that had seen better days—and promptly pounced on it, her little body nearly toppling over from the momentum.
Addie giggled from her spot on the floor, her legs tucked beneath her as she watched the chaos unfold. Holly had become the heart of their home, her endless antics filling the space with laughter and warmth.
“She’s going to destroy everything,” Leo muttered, standing nearby with his arms crossed, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his fondness. He was dressed casually, a rare sight given their usual whirlwind of wedding planning, and Addie took a moment to appreciate the relaxed version of him.
[color=#87b4c7“Oh, hush,”[/color] Addie said, scooping up Holly before the pup could chew on a cushion. She cradled the squirming dog like a baby, pressing a kiss to her soft head. “She’s learning, Leo. She’s still just a baby.”
Leo raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Our baby who thinks the coffee table is her personal racetrack.”
Addie grinned, undeterred. “She’s perfect. Aren’t you, Holly?” Holly responded by enthusiastically licking Addie’s cheek, her tiny pink tongue leaving wet patches that had Addie laughing.
“Perfectly chaotic,” Leo quipped, watching as Holly tried to wiggle out of Addie’s arms to chase after her squirrel again.
“You love her,” Addie teased, holding the puppy out toward him.
Leo sighed dramatically, as if the very act of admitting it was a burden. “Fine. She’s growing on me.” He took the squirming pup from her arms, holding her awkwardly for a moment before settling her against his chest. Holly, delighted by the attention, licked his jaw, and Leo couldn’t help but laugh softly.
Addie leaned against his shoulder, her head resting there as she watched him gently scratch Holly behind the ears. Her heart swelled at the sight—this unguarded version of Leo that he reserved only for her and, apparently, their little ball of fluff.
“We’re a family,” she murmured, her voice soft with wonder.
Leo glanced at her, his expression melting into something infinitely tender. “Yeah,” he said, his fingers brushing through Holly’s fur. “We have been since we got her.”
Holly wiggled in his arms, letting out a playful bark that made Addie laugh again. She reached over, her hand brushing against Leo’s as she stroked the pup’s head.
“You’re lucky she loves you as much as she loves me,” Addie teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“She loves everyone,” Leo pointed out, though the warmth in his tone betrayed how much he adored the little dog. He glanced down at Holly, who was now gnawing on the edge of his shirt. “But, yes, I suppose I am lucky.”
Addie tilted her head to look up at him, her lips curving into a smile. “You know, you’re pretty good at this whole family thing.”
Leo smirked, his free arm slipping around her waist to pull her closer. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve had plenty of practice putting up with you.”
“Excuse me?” Addie gasped, mock offense in her tone as she lightly swatted his arm. “I am an absolute delight, Leonardo Azure.”
“You are,” he agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. “And so is she. Even if she thinks my shoes are her personal chew toys.”
Addie laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling against his chest. Holly, nestled between them, let out a contented sigh, her tiny body relaxing as if she, too, knew she was exactly where she belonged.
In that moment, with the sound of Holly’s soft breaths and Leo’s hand tracing soothing patterns on her back, Addie felt it. Pure, unfiltered happiness. Their lives might be a whirlwind of wedding plans and royal obligations, but here, in the quiet of their home, they were just… them.
A family.
November, 1999
Snowflakes twirled lazily in the air, blanketing the city in a pristine white that shimmered under the glow of streetlights. God Addie fcking loved this time of year. Everything about it was perfect - especially this year. Especially with the ring on Addie’s finger that she had yet to take off except for when she was taking showers.
The chill nipped at Addie’s cheeks, turning them a soft pink as she walked arm in arm with Leo. The hot cocoa in her hands radiated warmth, and she brought the cup to her lips, savoring the sweetness and the hint of lavender she always insisted on adding. What? Don’t judge her. Lavender works with everything.
She couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace. The last few months had been a whirlwind of wedding planning—venues, flowers, dresses, cakes, guest lists, and save-the-dates. Everything was planned down to the tiniest detail, thanks in part to their overly determined wedding planner. It had been exhausting, but in moments like this, just walking through the snowy streets with Leo, none of it seemed to matter. All she cared about was that, in a few short months, she’d be his wife.
Addie glanced up at the snowflakes catching in the curls of his hair and smiled to herself. God, she loved this man.
“You know,” she said, bumping her hip against his, “the snow makes everything feel… magical. Like we’re in a little snow globe.”
“Magical, huh?” Leo teased, his smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “I thought it just made things cold.”
“Oh, shut up.” Addie laughed, nudging him harder this time. “You’re ruining my poetic moment.”
Leo chuckled, his arm tightening around her. “Fine. Magical. Romantic. Best snowfall in history. Better?”
“Much,” she said with a grin.
As they continued their stroll, a woman walking a small, fluffy dog stopped in her tracks to admire them. Her face lit up with genuine delight, and she gestured toward them with her free hand.
“Please tell me you two are dating,” the woman said with a beaming smile. “You’re so beautiful together. It’s almost unfair.”
Addie’s lips quirked, and she opened her mouth to respond, but Leo beat her to it.
“Not dating,” he said smoothly, pulling Addie closer. “Engaged.”
Addie’s cheeks flushed, but not from the cold. She tilted her head slightly, smirking up at him. “Fiancé,” she corrected softly, the word tasting sweeter every time she said it.
The woman gasped, her excitement bubbling over as she looked at Addie’s ring. “Congratulations! Oh, you’re going to make the most gorgeous couple at your wedding.”
“Thank you,” Addie said warmly, giving the woman a polite nod before she walked on, her little dog trotting beside her.
As they continued walking, Addie glanced at Leo, her fingers tightening around his arm. “Can you believe it?”
“What?” he asked, looking down at her with a raised brow.
“That I’ll get to call you my husband soon annnnnd that I get to say I’m your wife in just a few months.” Her smile softened, her eyes glinting with the reflection of the falling snow.
Leo stopped walking, turning to face her fully. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer. “I think I’m the lucky one. In a few months, I get to say you’re mine. Forever.” His voice dipped lower, the sincerity in his words wrapping around her like the warmest blanket.
“You’re going to make me cry in the middle of the street,” she murmured, blinking up at him.
“You’d still be the most beautiful woman here,” he said simply, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips.
When they finally broke apart, Addie rested her forehead against his, her heart swelling with so much love it felt like it could burst. “I really do love the snow,” she whispered, her breath visible in the cold air. “It feels like everything’s quieter. Cleaner. Like nothing bad could ever happen when it’s snowing.”
“I’ll make sure you always get snow, then,” Leo promised, his lips brushing her temple. “Every winter, every Christmas. Hell, I’ll find a way to make it snow in July if you want.”
Addie laughed, her arms wrapping around his neck as she hugged him tightly. “I don’t need snow in July. Just you.”
“You’ve got me, love,” Leo murmured against her hair. “Always.”
And as the snow continued to fall around them, Addie felt her heart settle into a perfect rhythm. This was happiness. This was home.
December, 1999
The bathroom floor was cold beneath her, the tiles unforgiving against her skin as Addie sat in the dark. The only light came from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the window, casting soft shadows across the room. Her knees were pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around them tightly as if holding herself together would stop the world from spinning.
Dozens of pregnancy tests lay scattered around her like fallen soldiers, each one boldly displaying the same result: positive. She couldn’t bear to turn on the lights. Seeing the stark truth in full brightness felt… unbearable. As if darkness could soften the blow.
Her hands trembled as she picked up one of the tests, the digital screen clear and unforgiving. Positive. She pressed her free hand to her stomach, her breath catching in her throat. Her chest ached, a suffocating heaviness that made it hard to draw air.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
She had only taken the tests because she’d been feeling sick for days—nausea that wouldn’t go away, waves of dizziness that hit her at the worst times. Sure, she’d missed her period for almost two months, but it wasn’t the first time her cycle had been irregular. It was the stress, she’d told herself. Wedding planning, public appearances, trying to balance the weight of her own ambitions with the expectations of everyone around her. It made sense, didn’t it?
She hadn’t expected the tests to come back positive. Not really. And now, sitting in the dim silence of the bathroom, she wished she’d never taken them.
Her tears came slowly at first, hot and unrelenting, sliding down her cheeks as her mind raced. She tried to steady her breathing, but the sob that clawed its way out of her chest was beyond her control. She buried her face in her hands, shaking, her thoughts spiraling.
This wasn’t the plan.
She was supposed to go to college after the wedding. That was the plan—finish her degree, make a name for herself in politics, change the world. She’d taken a year off for the wedding, for Leo, but after that, it was supposed to be her time. She was supposed to make waves, to show the world who Adelaide Parker was beyond the royal title, beyond the legacy.
A baby wasn’t part of that. Not yet. Maybe… maybe not ever.
She’d never really thought about it—not seriously. Children had always been some distant possibility, an idea for another lifetime. She and Leo hadn’t even discussed it. Why would they? They were still young, still building their life together. There was so much they wanted to do, places they wanted to go.
Her chest tightened as she imagined it—getting bigger, her body changing. The idea of holding a baby in her arms, of Leo’s face… possibly lighting up with the kind of joy she’d never seen before? Did he want this? Did he want kids? The thought was terrifying and too much all at once.
Would Leo even be happy? Would he be ready? Was she fcking ready?
She couldn’t see him being anything but supportive, but… was she ready for that look in his eyes when she told him? The one that would shatter her because it would mean he was either thrilled… or or… he was terrified too… or… who the fck knew… all while she felt like her world was crumbling. And maybe she wasn’t being fair. Maybe it wasn’t crumbling. But it felt like it.
Her hand moved from her stomach to her mouth as she choked back another sob. She hadn’t let herself think it before, but now the thought was screaming at her, louder than anything else: I don’t want this. Not now.
She wanted to scream, to cry harder, to run far away from the suffocating weight of reality. But instead, she just sat there. Curled up on the cold bathroom floor, surrounded by those damn tests that wouldn’t stop mocking her.
The love she felt for Leo was undeniable. Overwhelming, even. But this? This was a new kind of overwhelming. A kind she didn’t know how to handle. A kind that left her questioning everything.
For now, she could only sit in the dark, her tears staining the silence as she tried to piece together what came next.
@Littlefeets - youuuuu know what’s coming next