Evaline:
The moment my hands pressed against his chest, I knew it wasn't fair - not to him, not to me. But the reminder of my pregnancy had yanked me back to reality, and reality was sharp and cold and merciless.
"Oscar…" I said. My voice was shaky and quiet as I pushed him away.
His eyes snapped open, breath catching as if just realizing how close we were to crossing a line we couldn't come back from. I pulled away and wrapped my arms around myself instinctively. The space between us was too small, but it felt like a canyon in that moment.
He didn't say anything at first. His breathing was still harsh, his body still strung tight with restraint, and his eyes - wild, hungry, beautiful - were watching me with confusion and guilt battling in them.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, feeling the need to say something.
His brows furrowed in confusion and he asked, "Why are you apologizing?"
