Mare Moody - [blank]

"Are you family?" She asks Tabitha, gesturing to Mark and the baby.

"Um, no," she awkwardly responds. She looks at me with a compassionate expression. 'We'll be in out there."

She turns to walk out but the bed starts to rustle. Noah is moving. His hand squeezes mine firmly and my heart leaps.

"Baby?" I say hopeful.

He groans and takes a deep, fulfilling breath.

"Perfect timing, Mr. Evanston." The doctor chuckles.

He groans again and his eyes flick open slightly.

"Is this your wife?" Dr. Grundge asks him. She waits for a second for him to respond.

"No," I stammer. "I'm his-"

"Fiance" He cuts me off.

I look at him confused. I don't know how to feel about this response.

"Ok, well then you can stay." She says cheerily. "I'm glad to say that you should recover fine, Mr. Evanston, the wound didn't hit any major arteries or bone."

I look at him with a huge smile on my face. He will be ok. Now we just need to get out of here. We need to move tomorrow.

"But," she interrupts my thoughts. "You will need to do physical therapy because there is some significant nerve and muscle damage. I will have you set up appointments with a physical therapist but in the meantime, you can go home and get some rest."

"Thank you, doctor." he mutters.

"Don't me, thank her," the doctor winks at me. "I heard she was the one who saved your leg with a blanket."

I hold my breath. I don't want to take credit for it. I don't want to think back on it. The doctor kurtly waves and walks out. When the door closes behind her, I look at Noah. A million emotions flow through me.

"Why did you tell her that I'm your fiance?"

"That's the plan," he says with a smile. "As long as you were lying to Kane."

"Lying to Kane?"

"Yeah." He leans up and looks at me in the eye. "He's my baby, right?"

I shuffle in my seat. This is the moment that I have avoided. I can't lie to him. But at the same time, I don't need to put him through more than I should right now. Just be honest.

"I'm not sure," I awkwardly whisper.

"What do you mean you aren't sure?" He is attempting to give me the benefit of the doubt. "We were together when you conceived. How could it be his?"

I lower my head. I need to muster up the right words to tell him.

"I was with him the day before I was with you."

He lets go of my hand and I feel the coolness of the room surround it.

"You were?" He sits up and furrows his eyebrows. "So its his?"

"No," I sigh, "Well, I don't know."

"You don't know if the kid is mine or some crazy psychopaths?" The anger rises in his tone. "Ana, tell me right now that you were lying to him."

He looks at me with a flared nose and watering eyes.

"I told him that it was his so that he didn't murder either of us!" I say back with desperation. "Please try to understand."

"I was so excited to meet my son," the tears begin to drip down his cheek. "And now I don't even know if he is my son."

"I know," I say. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry doesn't even cover the surface, Ana," he cries out. "This guy has physically hurt both you and I and you want me to raise his child?"

"He told me was going to come back for the baby," my face reflects his and tears begin to fall "I don't want my baby to get hurt. I need you."

He is conflicted. I completely understand why. If I could just end this whole thing and tell him once and for all that it is his baby, then it would be ok.

"Please," I beg through my tears. "Please try to understand."

He sighs deeply. His eyes fix on the ceiling. I don't want to know his thought process because it probably isn't in my favor at this point. He turns his head and looks at me again.

"I do." The tears fall down his face. "I will help you no matter what because goddamnit Ana, I've never met a woman who is anything like you. So fuck you for your past. Fuck you for everything you've put me through and fuck you for being so convincing."

He leans forward and kisses me firmly.

"We need to get the hell out of here." He demands.

I kiss him back. My brain is blank. I have no idea how to respond other than to accept his love and hope for the best.

God. Help me.

Everytime I walk into the house, I bump into yet another piece of furniture. Anything that is short than my knees will not be seen. The six inches of stomach that protrude in front of me make sure of that. It makes it even more difficult seeing as this house is much too new. I don't why we waited until I was 7 months pregnant to rent it. I am just happy that in the time between our move, no run-ins happened with Kane.

I trudge through the dark room, trying to find the light switch. I have resorted to tracing along the perimeter of the wall, my hand sliding up and down like a blind man. After my first lap, I get restless. I keep walking forward until my calves bang on stray trashcan.

"Goddamnit!" I kick it in frustration. For a blind kick. it is actual decent, seeing as the trashcan makes it halfway across the room.

"Are you ok?" I hear Noah. He peers out of the doorway. I can't quite make out his face. He reaches over and flips the light switch.

"There it is!" I say exacerbated.

He chuckles and walks over to me. He hugs me from behind and nuzzles his head into my neck. I look around the room. Large windows echo the darkness outside. I am sad that we left Boston. I always wanted to leave but now that I have, a part of me wants to go back. I know that is faulty logic. I wish we were closer to Tabitha. Margaret is almost three now and if her and my son were friends, it would repeat the Grenish - Henderson cycle. If Tabitha hadn't helped us, we wouldn't have been able to leave at all.

"Newton is cozy," Noah sighs pleasantly.

"Yeah," I agree reluctantly. I don't know why I have cold feet after all of this time.

We stand in silence, peering out of our living room window. Rain drops splatter on the fresh glass. It creates streaks on the otherwise clean slate. The rest of the room looks drab compared to the architecture of our new house. Noah's old living room set has just been copy and pasted into the room. I had no furniture to bring so it is still all Noah—except that both of our names are on the rent.

I feel a pinching grow in my stomach. It rapidly gets more intense. I wince. Noah feels me tense and pulls out of the hug.

"Are you sure you are ok?" He asks worried.

"Yeah, just some pain."

"Like pain, pain?" He grows worried.

"I mean, I don't th-" The pain burst and a stabbing pain erupts in my stomach. And yes, a stabbing pain. I would know. I tense up again and groan.

"We need to bring you to the hospital"

"No shit, Sherlock."

We walk out of the door. Rain flushes down from the sky. Noah flags for a taxi. No taxis pass for longer than I had hoped. | One skids by and squeals to a halt. I can feel the rain soak into my shirt. The pinching has grown far past a stabbing. I can feel my whole lower body cramping and tensing.

I get in the taxi.

"Please make sure I don't have this baby in the taxi." I say to Noah.

His face looks just as horrified as mine.

"No promises."

The sweat is caked to my forehead. My whole body is aching. I feel like I have been ripping apart from the inside out. I pant still. The nurse walks over to me and hands me my brand new baby boy. He is wrapped tightly in a blue blanket with a pink stripe. Noah sits next to me, beaming like the proud father he is. I take my son and hold him in my arms gently. A brown tuft of hair peeks out of the blanket. He smiles up at me with vibrant blue eyes. In his eyes, I see seas of beauty. I look at him and breathe in his life. He bring him up to my face and kiss him firmly on the forehead.