I sigh.

Negative again.

I carefully place the stick back into the box and push it far down into the waste basket next to the toilet, making sure that it's hidden among the various other items in the basket.

My heart has sunk, the pain of defeat and disappointment present in my body. I long for the days that the little stick will be positive, when a little life will grow inside me.

I've stopped taking my shots. Christian doesn't know it-he would freak out. But the thing is, I'm ready for a child. I can't help but to want a little person to call my own. Someone me and Christian could dote on, could love and cherish.

Of course he doesn't see it that way. He sees children as a burden, a tragedy; but that's just too bad. It's been two years. How much time could he need?

We've traveled the world, had time to ourselves, built a healthy foundation for our relationship, our trust in each other has grown. Hell, he even stopped being so controlling. So why can't he just be ready for a child?

Maybe it's my fault. I haven't explicitly told him that I wanted to start a family, but every time I think to mention it, he does something to discourage me. The fear that he'll reject me, tell me he doesn't want a baby.. scares me. He'll be extra cautious to make sure that he doesn't impregnate me. At least doing it my way, the damage will be done and he'll just have to deal with it.

That sounds horrible, but I want this so bad.

More than anyone could ever know.

I wash my hands and exit the bathroom, going downstairs to meet Christian before we make our way to dinner. I stop in the landing before I climb the stairs, and stare longingly at the vacant room next to ours. After moving out of Escala and into the house on The Sound, I've felt even more alone and desperate for a child. Why have such a big house if there's no one to share it with? Taylor and Gail don't live with us anymore. Of course they live next door, however-Christian's control issues wouldn't allow them to go too far. But with just two people, why have five extra rooms?

I imagine little copper-haired children running around, their small bodies roaming the hallways, their giggles filling up the house. My life would be perfect if only that were more than just a dream.

Pushing my longing and depressing thoughts to the back of my mind, I saunter downstairs to meet Christian. He looks wonderful, as always. Gosh, it pisses me off sometimes how perfect he is. It's actually kind of not fair. There are people out there desperately trying to be attractive, and he's just born with it.

His black suite is ironed and impeccable, a silver tie to go along with it. It seems a little too dressy for a casual dinner in my opinion, but he looks great anyway.

"Ana, you look beautiful," he compliments.

I have half the urge to roll my eyes. All I'm wearing is a red maxi dress, light brown sandals, and my hair tied up in an artful bun. I don't see how that qualifies as "beautiful," but arguing with him would be pointless.

"Thank you, dear," I murmur as I kiss him on the cheek.

"Are you ready?" He asks. I nod my head and we make our way to the car, off to Benihanas.

"Oh my god, I have half the mind to go back and punch her in her crooked nose!" I grumble as we make our way out of Benihanas.

Our waitress was a complete bitch. She just couldn't take the hint that Christian wasn't interested. For an hour and a half, I had to deal with her failed flirtation ploys and her batting eyelashes, all while Christian just laughed at my jealousy and the waitress making a fool of herself.

I'm glad he found this ordeal entertaining.

"By all means, baby, do it. It would be quite a show," Christian murmurs with a smirk on his face.

I giggle and swat him playfully. He wraps his arm around my waist and leads us to the car.

"It's not fair, ya know. I have to deal with women throwing themselves at you everyday. You never have to go through that with me," I mutter.

"You really are obtuse, aren't you, Ana? Men ogle you every day. It's a wonder I can control my temper around them."

I shake my head but don't say anything. Men ogling me? I don't believe that for a second.

"If you say so, Christian."

"Yes, if I say so; and I'm always right. Don't forget it," he says, then swats my behind.

I yelp and lean into his embrace.

Oh, my Fifty. How much I love him.

He pushes up against me, causing my back to hit the wall. His mouth is rough and eager against mine, matching my movements against his. I wrap my arms around him, one hand getting tangled into his wild, copper locks.

His hands roam the sides of my body, landing on my behind. He gives it one rough squeeze, causing me to gasp and my breathing to accelerate.

"I can't wait to get you inside," he growls, his words igniting a fire inside my body.

I move my hands around his front, clawing at his suit jacket, just as Christian digs into his pocket and retrieves the keys. He steps away from me for a quick second, straining in the darkness for the keyhole. I kiss his neck, my mouth moving upwards, grabbing onto his ear. I tug on the lobe and Christian fumbles, dropping the keys.

"Fuck," he mutters, but his voice is muted by a loud and shrill cry.

"What the hell?" We both murmur aloud.

I squint my eyes and look at the ground on our porch. What I see takes my breath away.

Lying in front of our front door is a little baby swathed in a blanket, our house keys laying on top of it's stomach.

"Oh my god!" I exclaim, quickly scooping up the child and cradling it to my chest. "You dropped your keys on it!" I yell at Christian, slightly scolding him.

"I'm sorry, because everyone has small children lying on their porch steps!" He growls back sarcastically.

"Just open the damned door, Christian," I mumble.

He opens the door and I rush in, bringing the child upstairs to our bedroom. I turn on the lights, and unwrap the child. I have to make sure it's okay, who knows what it could've encountered while lying outside in the harsh cold for hours. As I take a look at the child, the sight takes my breath away.

This baby.. this life is so.. beautiful. It has to be a girl, its features are too feminine. Her face is chubby and cherubic, a button nose and large green eyes stare back at me. Her hair is long and curly, the brown locks arranged in a disordered mess.

"Oh my god," I whisper.

This can't be a coincidence. I've been wanting a child for so long, and then one is just express delivered to us. It must be meant to be-there's just no other logical explanation.

Chill out, Ana! This child probably has a family, a life. She's not yours!

I ignore my subconscious-something I do daily-and stare back affectionately at the child. She's so, so pretty. After staring for a couple more minutes, I snap out of my haze and check the rest of her body for any injuries.

Oh no.

Her chest, it's.. scarred. Small white dots adorn her undeveloped cleavage. Small white dots that I am all too familiar with.

The same ones that adorn Fifty's chest.

"Oh no," I groan.

I scoop the child up, cradling her small body to my chest once again. She smells like a baby-extremely wonderful. I breathe in her scent, closing my eyes and humming softly to her. I rub her head soothingly as I do so.

"Ana..." Christian whispers.

I open my eyes and peer at him. He looks so.. confused.

Oh. Of course. Christian isn't going to stand for this. By morning the baby will be sent off to some orphanage or to the authorities, never to be spoken of again.

"Yes, Christian?" I answer softly, still rubbing her head.

''What.. What are you doing?" He asks.

"Comforting the ba-... I'm.. I don't know," I fumble. "This baby needs help, Christian. Look at her chest," I say, turning her around so she is in Christian's direct line of sight. "Do you see this?" I question, pointing out the small round scars.

Christian blanches.

"Dear god..."

"I know. What are we gonna do?" I ask, pleadingly.

"We'll call an orphanage. Or maybe an adoption agency. I'll make sure that she finds a perfect home, Ana," he reassures me.

I shake my head sadly. I knew he would say that; but doesn't he see? She already has found a perfect home. We could be great parents, I know we could-he just isn't allowing us to be.

"Christian.. I think she already has found one." I gaze up at him, with the baby lounging in my arms. "

"Enough, Ana," he says harshly. "We don't know where this child came from, or what her background is. For all we know she has a family she belongs to. We can't, and we will not keep her."

"What sort of family would do this?!" I screech, pointing at her scares.

Christian closes his eyes and shakes his head.

"No, Ana. It's not happening."

My heart sinks for the second time today; pain, disappointment, and anger all flooding my body at once.

"Okay, Christian.." I whisper sadly. "But we can't do anything today, it's too late. We'll figure everything out tomorrow."

He nods his head.

"Thank you. You'll see that this is for the best," he says reassuringly.

He cups my cheek lovingly and strides out the room.

I take a look at the child in my arms, and as my eyes connect with hers, I know I can't let her go. I lift her up, our heads at the same level.

"Don't worry," I state. "I'm not letting anyone take you away from me."

She blinks at me, but her lips quirk up in a smile, showing a set of two perfect teeth.

This is my first story, so please be gentle. I hope you enjoyed it. Also, I'm aiming for weekly updates, but there may be some times that I won't be able to make that deadline.

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