I remembered his hands on me. And I remembered wanting them there.
The memory hit Elara two nights after their confrontation about the contract. She was in bed, trying to sleep, when Kairos's confession echoed through her mind: "Month six. I kissed you. You pulled back. I kissed you again anyway."
And suddenly, she wasn't in her bed anymore.
She was seven months pregnant, her body heavy and uncomfortable, sitting on the couch in the library with her swollen feet propped on pillows.
FLASHBACK: SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT
The ache in her lower back was relentless. Elara shifted position for the hundredth time, trying to find comfort that didn't exist. Her belly was enormous, the baby active and restless, pressing against her ribs and bladder simultaneously.
"You're in pain."
She looked up to find Kairos in the doorway, tie loosened, jacket gone. It was late—past ten. She hadn't expected to see him.
"Just uncomfortable," she said, trying to smile. "Comes with the territory."
