I didn't see Christian for two days following the encounter with Vincent.

Olga would come and go, with a warm, delicious meal three times a day. She'd spend some time at night drawing baths for me filled with lotions of jasmine and warm vanilla.

When I was done, she'd return, somehow always anticipating my next move.

I wondered if all this attention was on Christian's orders.

And I was both glad and sad that he had not come to see me.

Currently, Olga's nimble fingers were in my hair, gentle as she twisted my curls into a loose bun at the nape of my neck.

Satisfied with her handiwork, she patted my shoulder and scooted a tray of steak and potatoes toward me.

"Eat," She said, motioning to her mouth. Her English was limited, but she seemed to understand everything I said back to her. Her face, which was otherwise pale and smooth, had a smattering of freckles.

She was shorter and voluptuously rounder than any other vampire I'd seen. And it was perfect on her.

"Keep your strength," She said. "If there is baby, baby needs to eat."

I smiled up at her, but it was strained.

Olga left me to myself again and I focused on steadying my breathing.

I didn't want to think about or entertain the wild possibility of a baby.

Instead, I thought of what I knew to be true: the bond, as Christian had said was shattered. I felt it in my bones, had felt it since the night of the battle, the sensation of something missing, the moment I'd returned from the in-between.

It'd felt like I'd gone into a room looking for something important and forgotten what it was.

Like a part of me was missing.

I'd read that sometimes when a person lost a limb, they could still feel the ghost sensation of it.

Phantom pain.

That's what this broken bond felt like.

Of course, my love for him was still there but deep in the crevices of my heart, I no longer felt like I might explode without him.

I could no longer sense him or his emotions, which was probably for the best right now.

My own messy emotions were enough for me.

After a while, I tossed in bed, facing the door, and willed myself to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up with a start.

Slowly, I sat up, testing out my limbs.

I didn't feel the urge to vomit.

I would, wouldn't I...if what Vincent had said was true?

I groaned as I glanced down at my stomach.

This could not be happening.

For one, I'd never wanted children in the first place. The tattoo shop, my life in Oregon, lazy nights hanging on Damian's patio...getting high as a kite.

That was my life. And it was enough for me.

A baby would only complicate things.

Especially with Christian, who thought the best thing for me was to be away from him.

What would I do, all alone with a child?

And yeah, maybe he was only trying to protect me but just like a cancer, his imagined cure for this problem was turning out to be worse than the illness.

There was a gentle knock at the door

"Aimee, can we talk?"

My heart raced in my chest.

I held very still, hoping to pretend to still be asleep. Trying to keep my breathing as even as possible, I gripped the bedsheets. I wasn't ready to have this conversation, not yet.

"I know you're awake," Christian said through the door. "May I come in? Please?"

I kicked the covers off of my feet and stood.

No point in delaying the inevitable.

If there was one thing I'd never shied away from, it was confrontation.

I smoothed my hair down before opening the door.

Christian stood on the other side.

His hair, which was normally straight and styled, look tousled as if he'd run his hand through it too many times.

He wore dark-wash jeans and a black turtle neck sweater.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. His Dannek blue gaze gave me a once over and I tried not to shiver.

"Fine. Better," I lied as I moved away from the door. Quietly, he padded in after me. "It was nothing. Probably just food poisoning."

"Aimee..." He said, his voice low and throaty. "What Vincent said...is there a chance?"

"No," I said as I crossed my arms over my chest. "There's no way."

"But if there was...?"

"There's not."

"Aimee," He sighed. I'm sure he didn't mean for it to, but the sound of his breath was like a gentle caress across my skin. Goosebumps rose across my exposed arms and shoulders.

"There's not, Christian."

"I'd like to be certain. I can send someone into town to buy a test."

"Would it change anything?"

Christian opened and closed his mouth. A crease formed on his forehead as he studied me. "Would it...of course it would change things. You'd be carrying my child."

"No." I shook my head and turned my back on him, going to the window. "I wouldn't be carrying your child because I wouldn't have it."

I turned back just in time to see his reaction. I knew him well enough now to realize when he needed a moment of silence to collect himself. Beneath his smooth throat, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. When he spoke again, I could tell he chose his words carefully.

"I...suppose that is your choice to make. Though I'd hope you'd choose differently."

"Why? So I can raise a baby by myself in some imagined safe space I'm sure you've already thought up for us?"

"You wouldn't be doing this alone. I'd be there for the child."

For the child.

Not for me.

I imagined a small, painful fissure cracking down along the middle of my heart. That's what it felt like to hear those words.

This wasn't at all how I'd imagined becoming a mother...not that I'd given it much thought, but still. It should have been a happy moment.

We should have been planning to do this, together.

"What would this child even be? Half-vampire half what? Cursed with magic you say could kill him. My mother...she was selfish to have me, knowing what would be of my life. I won't put any child through that."

"Aimee," His hand wrapped around my wrist, turning me to face him. Ever so lightly, he ran his knuckles along my cheek. For a second I was transported back to the moments before the battle when he'd pulled me into an urgent, desperate kiss.

I'll come back to you. I'll always come back to you.

Then why, I thought, did he feel so far away?

Like there was a huge, bottomless, black chasm between us?

"Don't say that. You are one of the most incredible people I know. I...I'm glad you exist."

Not I love you.

Not I need you.

I'm glad you exist.

I remembered, a long stored away memory of Marcy telling Luke they were expecting. She'd waited until she knew the sex of the baby to break the news to him.

We'd spent the entire morning making chocolate cupcakes and filling them with pink frosting.

She'd put the positive pregnancy test in a zip lock bag and then inside a jewelry gift box.

When Luke opened it, his face lit up with happiness. He'd grabbed mom and spun her, while my angsty teenaged self pretended not to be touched by it all.

Luke had been overjoyed.

But Christian, beneath his cool blue gaze, looked terrified.

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. "Don't," I whispered. "Don't touch me, Chris. I can't...you said the feelings for me had died. Well, for me they haven't. Please. Do not touch me."

Christian flinched but he stepped back. It felt like a piece of me was being torn from my body.

"I know the situation isn't ideal but all I ask is that you take more than one night to think about this. I will respect whatever choice you make...but I want you to know that I'd move heaven and hell to make sure you and this baby are safe. I mean it."

I believed him.

But his calculation...the way he said the words with no inflection...

Maybe it was true. Maybe I was giving him more credit than he truly deserved. Maybe his feelings had died with the bond. What did I know about bonds anyway?

There was no way, no matter how good of a liar he was, that someone who loved you, faced with the prospect of having a child with you, wouldn't show any emotion.

For normal couples, this is what dreams were made of, weren't they?

Christian's eyes met mine. They were steady and icy blue, nothing to betray what he felt underneath.

I had to know.

I had to know the truth.

"I have a request," I said, again crossing my arms over my chest, the pink, soft silk of my nightgown caressing my arms. "If I'm pregnant and before...before I decided what I'm going to do...I need to know one thing."

Christian shot me a wary look but waited.

"Tell me the truth about why you're doing this."

"Aimee, I've already been perfectly honest with you."

"You have not. I know, deep down in my heart that what you said the other night isn't true. I know you love me, Chris. And if I'm to have this baby, I deserve to know the truth. I'll do as you say, I'll go to whatever safe place you've chosen, but I won't go there being lied to."

Christian's blue eyes darkened, a storm raging behind them.

He turned and walked away from me. Maybe he was worried the mask would finally crack and I'd see the truth.

I followed after him, grabbing something from the food tray as I passed, and planted myself in front of him once more.

I grabbed his wrist and turn his hand palm up, placing the thin steak knife Olga had left on my tray with dinner last night.

"I want a blood contract."