"Do you ever wish I was her?"
She looked up at him, staring straight into his own eyes.
(He could never pinpoint the exact shade of brown they were. Perhaps sepia.)
They were lounging on their couch. She had her arms wrapped around his chest, resting her cheek against his chest. Listening to your heartbeat, she told him.
He had been lightly twisting his fingertips into her soft, blond hair.
(She smelled like her favorite orchid and coconut shampoo and conditioner.)
It was a random question, yes. But it in retrospect, it needed to be asked.
(Because it was left unasked, a mistake on both their parts.)
He was a bit shocked for a moment, and wondered what would prompt her to ask him this now. And he took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. She propped up her chin.
He still remembered the deep woodsy smell mixing with a flowery scent (Lilies, he added). Long dark hair and smooth porcelain skin. Large, innocent chocolate eyes looking up at him through dark eyelashes. A wide smile that seemed to stretch her cheeks. Starry nights where they would stretch out in the grass and talk.
(Maybe he missed her, a little.)
...and still, he couldn't imagine her in Tess' place.
All of the laughter he could hear from her lips (bubbling from her throat like a song, making him feel that if he laughed, it would pale terribly in comparison) would never be able to replace the first time Tess had smiled her broken smile at him.
"No." He smiled (like he knew a secret that no one else knew, and he did, possibly).
She snuggled closer too him, breaking eye contact. "Good." He couldn't see her face, but she sounded smug.
(He loved her.)
He didn't have to say anything. (He didn't, honestly, really care.)
"I'm pregnant."
He looked at her (joy shining in his eyes) as she stood up, in a nonchalant way.
And he got up, also.
And he kissed her.
And when they broke apart, she buried her face in the crook of his neck (whispering that she loved him).
It could've been his ears playing tricks on him, but it sounded like she was crying.
Tess Tyler doesn't cry.
(He whispered, into her orchid and coconut scented hair, that he loved her, too.)