Tides of deception ✺ Outlander/Stephen Bonnet Fanfic

♤42. Confession

Maria paused at the threshold of Stephen's bedchamber, her fingers lightly gripping the edge of her nightgown. The dim candlelight filled the room with a soft, golden glow, casting shadows that danced along the walls. Stephen stood in the middle of the room, half-dressed in his open-collared blouse and dark trousers, looking up as she entered. His gaze softened, though a flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes.

"Stephen..." she began, her voice low, steady but holding an edge of vulnerability. "I wanted to talk to you for a moment."

He held her gaze, brow lifting slightly as he gestured her further inside, a silent invitation.

As she stepped closer, she noticed the way his presence seemed to fill the space-solid and comforting, yet carrying the weight of his past in every glance, every quiet breath. She stopped just shy of him, her hand unconsciously drifting toward her stomach.

"I... I think I might be pregnant," she whispered, the words barely audible.

A silence stretched between them, profound and weighty. She could see the surprise flickering in his eyes, the subtle widening that betrayed the intensity of his reaction. He said nothing at first, his gaze dropping to her hand resting protectively on her abdomen, then returning to her face with a gentleness rarely seen.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice softer than usual. "I think... I already knew," he admitted, his lips curving in the faintest of smiles. "Or maybe I was hoping. Especially after Declan's comment..." He paused, recalling it with a wry hint of amusement. "About you smelling different."

Her lips curved in response, a warmth brightening her eyes. "Well... Declan was right."

He seemed to take in the weight of her words as if absorbing them slowly, letting them settle deeply within him. For a moment, he remained still, his eyes darkened with emotions she couldn't quite place. Then, with a quiet, almost hesitant resolve, he closed the distance between them. His hand reached up, his fingers brushing lightly along her arm before he finally wrapped her in a warm, protective embrace.

The hesitation in his touch softened as his arms tightened around her, pulling her close as though this moment was something precious he feared might slip away. His cheek pressed against her hair, his breath warm as he whispered into her ear, "I... don't know if I'll be any good at this. I never..." His voice caught, lingering on the thought that he had never known the comfort of a father's embrace, a steady presence to guide him.

Maria rested her head against his chest, feeling his heart beating steadily beneath her cheek, a grounding rhythm that eased her own anxious thoughts. "We'll figure it out together," she murmured, reaching her arms around him in return, enveloping him in the same warmth he gave her.

They remained like that for a long moment, wrapped in silence, the candle flames flickering as if sharing in the quiet intimacy of their news. His hand gently cradled the back of her head, and after a beat, he pressed a tender, lingering kiss to her hair, as if sealing a promise between them. In the gentle sway of the candlelight, a profound sense of calm and new beginnings filled the room, binding them together in a way they had never known before.

✺

The morning light slanted through the narrow window of Julie's apartment, casting shadows across the room that felt both close and unyielding. She sat at the small writing desk, her hand hovering over the paper, the quill poised but reluctant. It had been a week since she had arrived, and the stillness, once a balm, had become oppressive, like the silence that settles after a storm but refuses to yield to sunshine. Her fingers tightened on the quill, and with a deep breath, she dipped it into ink, the weight of her situation bearing down on her in each word she wrote.