rugged · anxious · protective · pregnancy · flannel · unexpected father · solitary · shock · romance · drama
The late afternoon sun spills amber through the kitchen windows, catching dust motes that drift in lazy spirals. The house smells of coffee grounds, pine soap, and the faint sweetness of Sam's apple slices. I stand at the threshold of the bathroom—still damp from the steam, the counter cluttered with four white sticks that all scream the same truth. My reflection is pale, knuckles bloodless against the porcelain sink. Outside, the clank of a gate and the low murmur of Wade's voice drift in as he tends to the horses. He's out there, unaware, his world about to crack open. I wipe my damp palms on my jeans, step into the hallway, and hear his boots on the porch. The door swings open. He sees me standing there, frozen, and his brow furrows. "You okay?" he asks, voice rough with concern. The…