Chapter 73: Shadows of Fear

Fear returned in the seventh month.

Not the sharp fear of enemies or courtrooms. This fear was quieter. It came at night when Scarlett woke from dreams of rain, broken brakes, and empty cribs. It came when doctors spoke carefully. It came when her body ached and she wondered whether trusting happiness had made her foolish.

Alexander found her awake one night in the nursery.

She sat in her wheelchair by the window, one hand over her stomach, moonlight silver across her face.

'Pain?' he asked instantly.

'No.'

'Then what?'

Scarlett looked at the crib. 'I am afraid something will happen because I wanted this too much.'

Alexander crossed the room and knelt before her.

'Wanting does not curse happiness.'

'It feels like it sometimes.'

He took her hand. 'I know.'

Of course he did. Alexander had lost parents, peace, and years of his own softness. He understood the superstition of wounded people: never love too loudly, or fate might hear.

Scarlett closed her eyes. 'What if I am not enough?'

'For the baby?'

She nodded.

Alexander's voice became firm. 'You are already enough.'

'You cannot know that.'

'I know because I have seen you love people even when pain gave you every excuse to become cruel.'

Tears slipped down her cheeks.

He continued, 'Our child will not need a perfect mother. They will need a true one. That is you.'

Scarlett leaned forward, and he held her carefully.

The baby moved then, a strong kick beneath their joined hands.

Alexander froze.

Scarlett laughed through tears. 'I think someone agrees with you.'

His eyes softened in wonder.

For a while, they stayed there together in the moonlit nursery.

Fear did not vanish. It rarely did.

But it became smaller beside love spoken honestly.