Surviving in Harmony

Chapter Eighteen | London, December 2001

        The tiny apartment in London was hushed, filled with books and plants in different stages of dying. On the bathroom floor Amara sat holding her legs to her chest, forehead resting on her knees. The funny smell still lingered, the tiles were still and ugly colour; the apartment was still new to them, already witnessing majestic moments.

Tucked away down the hall, surrounded by his star maps and constellations hovering within dust in cobwebs, Andrew works. His blue eyes skid across diagram after diagram, dissecting the stars with a keen gaze.

Amara opens the door slowly, cinnamon hair trickling down her neck in a wet tendril. She’d just stepped out of the shower, and his housecoat was wrapped around her body tightly.

“Hey.” She said, and he turned around, startled.

“Oh, hey.” He smiled and her heart melted a little bit. “What’s up? I can start supper soon, yeah?”

“Um, in a little while. I – um – are you busy?”

“Never, not for you.” He said, standing to give her a peck on the cheek. “Pesto or tomato sauce?”

“Andrew, just wait a second.” Grabbing his hand, Amara took a deep breath, but her fears caught up with her; tears spilled down her cheeks and a sob caught her throat.

“Mara? Hey, hey – what’s up?” he wiped her tears with his thumb, and Amara looked into those blue eyes she loved, eyes that only ever adored her. All Andrew had ever done was love her to full extent, from the first day they met – and he had always only wanted one thing.

So she pasted on a smile, grabbed his hands. “I’m pregnant, Andrew.”

Andrew seemed to freeze under her fingers, and he took a sharp breath in. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“I know we were going to wait a little longer, that it’s not even our anniversary yet. I thought nothing would happen at least until the spring –”

“Are you really?” he interrupted, voice so soft and loving Amara felt immediately safer.

She nodded.

“Oh honey.” He hugged her tightly, then kissed her with more passion than he had since their wedding day. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she lied, forcing the smile so hard that her cheeks hurt. “I’m fine. Are you?”

“I think I need to sit down.” he admitted.

Laughing, she went on her tip-toes and hugged her husband. “Are you happy?”

“So, so happy.” He breathed, and she held him tighter.

That night the couple lay in bed, the afterglow of their love making fading. Andrew was fast asleep, still tingly from the days news. Beside him Amara lay awake, eyes wide open, palm face down on her stomach.

Amara knew she loved Andrew, knew she loved their child – but tears slipped past her eyes no matter how tightly she shut them. She prayed to stop crying.

A/N: So I'm actually all teared up. I wrote this yesterday before leaving for Alberta, then I have another 1 & 1/2 chapters that I did on the plane. I may be here for a memorial but darn it anyway Andrew's getting his baby!!!

Question: Basically, what do you think? Andrew is blissfully happy, Amara is...what?

Rose<3