SUMMARY: Rey is a wreck. Ben is grateful.

A/N: I promise, friends, this is our most angsty chapter, and only because Rey has to be forced into facing her feelings, but I also promise it isn't drawn out and it resolves by the end of the chapter! Don't hate me! A little pain is good for growth.

Also this chapter is hella long. I was gonna break it up, buuuuuut some of you said you didn't mind gigantic chapters, and I didn't really want to split it, so here you go.

CHAPTER TEN: Brave Enough

SIXTEEN WEEKS — AVOCADO

Rey couldn't sleep anymore.

She tossed around at night, her mind stubbornly awake, her body aching in new, uncomfortable ways. Round ligament pain, the app said. Insomnia, the app said. Both normal. Both expected. Both unwelcome developments in a time when Rey really wanted to be blessedly ignorant of the long, empty nocturnal hours and the silence in which she was the only one breathing.

Because Ben's room was a sepulcher in the darkness, and she the restless departed entombed within it.

She couldn't have anticipated how difficult it would be. She'd slept alone all her life, except for those brief encounters with other men, and except for these recent weeks when she had an insatiable need to be with him. But now sleeping alone felt frightful and foreign. Ben's bed was horribly huge and empty without him in it. And Rey's heart felt equally vast and bereft.

She tried to doze, and kept having maddening dreams that he was home, walking through the door to slide in beside her, hold her close, his mere presence the balm to soothe her aching body. She'd wake from these with soft moans of frustration and despair, because he wasn't coming.

Rey had to keep reminding herself that this trip was her idea, not his. He wanted to stay. She wanted him to keep living his life. If she now suffocated in an ocean of loneliness without him, well, that was her own damn fault.

The truth was, Rey loved being at Ben's house. She loved that he'd allowed her to disrupt his life and nest in his space, even seemed to encourage it at times. She liked being around him. She always had, of course (he was her favorite person) but now it surged to a whole new level. She didn't just like being around him. She needed it. And she loved being in his world.

But she loved it a little less without him there. The house was a little more hollow, a little more hostile, a little less cozy. She thought maybe that was the reason she felt so weird and lonely, so she tried going home to her apartment for a few hours. But that was even worse. She couldn't understand it. This place she had known for years, had made into her comfortable, secure, well-stocked home, it felt alien and wrong. She couldn't sit on her couch without thinking of Ben and their quarantine. She couldn't be in her kitchen without wishing he were there to eat with.

Turned out, it wasn't at all hard to keep her promise to stay at Ben's place when puttering around her own for a couple hours made her feel like she needed to crawl out of her own skin. So she gathered up more of her things and went back. And even though it was still silent and empty, it was a relief, too. At least in Ben's house she wasn't constantly looking at the places where they had become gods and joined together in an act of holy creation. And at least in Ben's house she could go around smelling his presence everywhere.

The smell thing was weird.

Rey knew it, but she couldn't help it, either. Her nausea had receded, which felt like a true miracle, but her sense of smell remained dialed up to eleven. At least the various olfactory assaults didn't send her hurtling into pukesville anymore. She could almost pretend to ignore the information her nose sent her all the time. Except when it came to Ben.

It was embarrassing, really. What his scent did to her. She felt like some kind of animal, sniffing for traces of him everywhere. One day she pawed through his bathroom and found the cologne he sometimes wore. She put it on herself so she could pretend he was around.

That…proved to be a mistake.

Because as her nausea receded and her energy came back (second trimester heaven!) her body became hungry. Not just for food, though she happily indulged her renewed and unhindered appetite, but for touch. For pleasure. For relief. She felt like an exposed nerve. A live wire. Full of desperate need that zipped through her veins on electric currents. She assumed it was just yet another symptom of pregnancy, but more often than they had any right to, and she found herself constantly sitting on the edge of want.

Just her luck, then, that she'd sent away her favorite person for that task right when her libido kicked into overdrive.

The night after she'd worn his cologne all day, the scent of it still lingering on her skin while she rolled around trying and failing to sleep, she kept replaying memories of Ben and their various encounters. How her body burned with the need for that right now.

She thought about calling Ben to see if he could talk her through it. But they'd never done that before. She didn't know what he'd think about it. She thought about asking him to send her a picture. But they'd never done that either. And it was embarrassing.

She tried to cool the fire by burying her face in his pillow, to pretend he was there, but it wasn't enough. She'd been sleeping in his bed for too many days now. The smell of him was diluted with the smell of her. She found the clothes she'd worn earlier today, the ones carrying his cologne, but that wasn't right either. It was too chemical. She needed that elusive mix of his laundry detergent and a little bit of Ben's own natural body musk, his pheromones. It wasn't until she staggered into his closet and clutched one of his shirts to her nose that she found what she was looking for. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. And for a moment, she felt a little better.

And then she sank down onto the floor and sobbed.

Because she didn't know what the hell had come over her.

And because she just really missed Ben.

In the morning, she tried to tell herself it was just some leftover evolutionary drive. Some primal, ancient need to keep close to her mate during her most vulnerable time. That he would protect and provide. Maybe there was some truth to that, but it wasn't the whole reason. Her feelings for him went beyond evolution, and beyond hormones. Without him around, all her defense mechanisms were starting to give way, and she saw how deep her affections ran, and how long they'd been there.

During the day, she tried to focus on work. Mostly she succeeded. She went out with Jess, Tallie, and Jannah for dinner a couple times. That was a decent distraction. The other women were mystified over Rey's choice to go through with the pregnancy despite all logic, but they were nonetheless supportive. And Rey appreciated that they mostly talked about other things. Their lives. The world at large. She needed to get out of her own head, and they were good for that. They asked her if she'd hung out with Rose recently. She had tried once. They met up for lunch one day. But Rose had been excited about Rey's yet small, but certainly more noticeable belly, and tried to touch it. Rey didn't like that at all. She didn't really want anyone touching her that way, except Ben. She took it as a sign that her friend still wasn't quite ready for boundaries. So she didn't tell Rose that she was pretty much living at Ben's place. She would have read into it, would have wanted to know why, and Rey didn't want to get into that with her.

So mostly she stayed in. She took baths in Ben's huge tub to alleviate some of the aching, stretching feelings in her sides and back. She fidgeted in sleepless irritation on his bed. She worked and baked and filled his kitchen with a ridiculous amount of food.

"Ben asked me to come check on you," Gwen said one evening when she stopped by after work.

Rey didn't know why. They spoke on the phone every day. She didn't tell him how much she was struggling.

"I'm fine," she laughed.

Gwen didn't even almost believe the lie. "Can I come in?"

Rey wasn't particularly close with Hux's sister. They were definitely friends, but they'd never hung out like this. Ben was a lot closer to her because of work. Rey didn't really know what to do with herself. But she wasn't rude enough to say no, so she let Gwen enter her sad little kingdom.

She didn't stay long. They talked for a little bit, about Ben, about the job he was doing out there, about how Rey was doing. Gwen saw the kitchen littered with baked goods. Rey gave her an armload of things to take with her. At the end, Gwen told her that if she ever got bored, she was welcome to come work at Ben's office. It was empty with him gone, and Luke probably wouldn't even notice.

So she did. And, Luke did.

Rey wasn't even working very efficiently, staring around Ben's private office with all this personal affects, wondering why she'd gone mad, because she couldn't stop thinking about him, when Luke poked his head in.

"Hey," he said with curiosity. "My assistant told me a weird girl was just sitting in Ben's office. Didn't realize you were coming in."

"Gwen invited me," she said awkwardly.

But Luke didn't seem angry or annoyed. "A freelancer writer sitting in an office. It's like a wild animal came to spend the day in the zoo."

That made her laugh. "Sometimes a change of scene is nice."

His greying beard twitched with his smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good these days."

He nodded. "That's good news. Mara was asking about you. How'd your day with Leia go?"

"It went great. Your sister is great."

Luke laughed. "She's got an incentive to be nice to you. She's not that nice to everyone."

Rey didn't believe him. But it made her feel good anyway.

Leia was her one saving grace in the grueling weeks — two, that got extended to three — while Ben was gone.

She was wonderful. She took Rey shopping for maternity clothes and afterwards they got a bite to eat. It had been one of the best experiences she'd had in a long time. Leia was kind, and warm, and brilliant. Rey really loved talking to her. She loved hearing about her previous career, about all the scandalous secrets behind many prominent political figures, and about Leia's academic career. Leia talked about her personal life too. She opened up about her own childhood trauma. The grief of losing her mother, how she was never close to her father the way Luke was, how her aunt and uncle had become her surrogate parents. She spoke so candidly, it made Rey feel safe and wanted. Like Leia was happy to be with her too.

In fact, by the end of the day, Rey felt so safe she started to venture those questions she hadn't dared ask anyone before. About pregnancy. About newborns. The most important of which:

"Was Ben a big baby?"

A few nights ago she'd made the mistake of ignoring her instincts and reading about the birth process. She hadn't been able to sleep, as usual, and her mind started to race ahead to what was to come. The unknown felt scarier in that moment than knowing, so she'd googled it. And regretted it. The gut-wrenching horror of what her body would have to do left her in a picked flop sweat. Her browsing data then told the internet it would be a good idea to send her suggestions for birth videos to watch, but just seeing the thumbnails made Rey want to leapt out of her own body and run for the hills. She didn't watch them.

Ben was an enormous man. If this baby had his genetics, she didn't know how she was going to survive trying to get it out of her. The fear made her feel trapped, like she was on a speeding train headed for an inevitable collusion, and she could only hang on until she was annihilated.

She'd texted Ben. It was well after one AM, but he answered immediately anyway.

— I don't think I can do this.

Ben: Do what?

— Have this baby.

Ben: Gonna need a bit more than that. What do you mean?

— Do you know what happens during birth?

Ben: Oh. I thought you said you didn't want to read that stuff?

— I was weak! And you weren't here to remind me why I thought it was a bad idea.

Ben: Oh ok, I see, so it's my fault that you read about tearing. And poop. And cervical dilation. And contractions. And epidurals. And trapped shoulders. And now you're afraid.

— Yes. I'm pretty sure all of this is your fault.

Ben: Good, you're finally admitting it.

— How do you know about all that stuff, anyway?

Ben: I can't decide if I'm offended or not that you think I don't care what you're going to go through. Obviously, I wanted to know, so I read up.

— Okay…so what the hell am I supposed to do?

Ben: I really want to say the right thing here, but I have no idea. I don't think you'll get much comfort from me telling you you'll be alright. I don't think I get to say that.

— You're right. That wouldn't help at all.

Ben: Maybe you should talk to someone who's been through it?

Which was how she ended up broaching this topic with Leia, after spending the day getting comfortable, after being reasonably certain the woman wouldn't find her questions invasive.

At her question, Leia laughed. "He was tiny."

Rey's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Five pounds, six ounces. Just a bitty little thing, even though he was full term. He stayed small, too, for those early years. The only big thing about him were those ears. And his feet. He had these huge feet, which the pediatrician kept telling me meant he'd be a tall guy one day. It wasn't until about puberty that he started hulking up. I had to buy him new pants so often, I almost didn't need to take the tags off. I could have returned them as new by the time he needed more."

Rey couldn't really imagine anything as big as five pounds coming out of her, but she knew from her terrible reading that this was, indeed, a small baby. "So it was…not…awful?"

"Clothing Ben? It was, it was awful," Leia joked. "But I think you were talking about giving birth to him."

Rey nodded.

"He was small enough that I didn't tear much. A tiny little rip that didn't need stitches. Labor was long, but not difficult." She gave Rey a reassuring pat. "Don't worry. It's intimidating from the outside, but you'll get through it."

"It's easier for me to get through something by dealing with it in the moment," Rey told her. "If I know too much about it ahead of time, I overthink. I get anxious. I messed up by reading about what was to come…and now I'm afraid."

Leia's smile was soft and kind. "You have every right to be afraid, dear. It's no easy task ahead of you. If it were easy, men would do it." She laughed. "But you'll find that you can endure a lot more than you think you can. You'll discover a strength in yourself that you never knew you had. And when you get the other side and have this tiny person in your arms, all the bad stuff will just sort of fade to the background."

Rey drew a deep breath, overwhelmed with reassurance. As simple as Leia's assertion was, it rang through her like the toll of an old, familiar bell. Rey knew how to tap into hidden strength when pushed to her limits. She'd done it before to stay alive, and she would do it again, to give life to someone else.

That afternoon with Leia left her with more peace than she'd had before. She thought maybe she'd finally be able to sleep that night.

She wasn't. Apparently the insomnia wasn't entirely stress-related.

Lying there in the dark, on her side because being on her back had gotten too uncomfortable to bear now, she stared at the emptiness of Ben's room and wondered again why she was there. And mostly, why she didn't want to be anywhere else.

The night was warm, but her toes were cold. She got up and padded over to the dresser, rifling blindly around the drawer Ben had cleaned out for her things.

Another of his mysteriously accommodating gestures. Like it didn't bother him at all that she'd invaded his space. When she tried to apologize for it once, he'd stopped her and said it didn't bother him, in fact it made him happy, and would she please never again apologize for being part of his life, because he wanted that even more than she did. He was saying a lot of weird things like that lately. She didn't know whether she should read into them or not, but it was getting harder to not hear what she wanted to hear when he dropped his little comments.

She scrabbled her hands through the drawer, but found nothing that felt like a sock. She sighed, went back and got her phone, and turned on the flashlight. Pawing through it again, she discovered no socks.

Definitely time to do laundry then, judging by her pile mounting up in his hamper. Tomorrow. She'd do it tomorrow. In the meantime, maybe she could just borrow a pair of his. Ben would be home in three days. If she washed everything tomorrow, he wouldn't even know.

She set her phone on the top of the dresser so that the light hung off the edge, shining down. She opened his sock drawer. It was so neatly organized. Tidy little bundles, crisply matched and tucked together, nestled in columns of like colors. Rey grimaced. It would take her a while to figure out how to fold the borrowed pair up like that again so he didn't know she'd taken them.

Then again, he was being so over-the-top genial lately, maybe he wouldn't even mind.

She snatched a pair of thick white ones out and was about to close the drawer when her attention snagged on something that had been half-hidden beneath the socks. A black something. Squat and squarish. Like a box. She knocked aside the other bundle concealing part of it. Definitely a little box, with small gold hinges.

Don't be nosey, she told herself. But her curiosity burned bright, because this was Ben. They didn't really have secrets from each other. And anything hidden in a sock drawer was definitely a secret.

Maybe it was just a fancy pair of cufflinks?

But Ben had cufflinks in a fancier, bigger velvet-lined box in his closet.

She shouldn't. God, she knew she shouldn't. But her judgement was compromised. She wasn't sleeping. She was an emotional wreck. It was the middle of the night. And Ben wasn't here. So she picked it up. And she opened it.

At the first flash of warm gold, and a glinting center jewel reflecting the harsh cellphone light, she snapped it shut, put it back in the drawer and shoved it closed.

What had she just seen?

A ring, definitely a ring. Unusual, though. Not all pale and silvery and diamond-studded.

Why did he have that?

Never have I ever proposed to anyone.

Ben had raised his hand. Was it Bazine?

Rey grabbed her phone and went back to the bed, sliding his enormous socks onto her still-icy toes.

It had to have been Bazine. He'd dated her longer than anyone. Almost a year. Was that why they'd broken up? Baz didn't want to accept what he was offering? More fool, Baz, if that were the case. Ben was way too good for her. She didn't know what she had.

He'd come over a few days after they ended things. Strictly business. They didn't talk much about it. Rey was just so glad to have him back in her bed, she didn't ask what had happened. She did ask if it was a consolation thing, he said it wasn't, and he really didn't seem that bothered at all, so she didn't need to know anything else.

Would he have been that indifferent if Baz had just turned him down?

But if not her, then who? Rey remembered every single one of his girlfriends and exactly how long they'd lasted. He didn't really stick with people long enough to warrant that ring.

She got up and went back, pulling the box out again and, feeling a little braver, opened it for a better assessment.

It looked old. The oval cut of the stone wasn't the fashion anymore, the stone itself some kind of deep mirrored purple-ish, blue-ish thing that looked as infinite and deep as space. What kind of stone looked like that? The band was a warm, rich gold, like rose gold, or whatever the antique approximation was. It didn't have that brassy-bright look she'd expect of an old ring. But nonetheless, this felt very worn and loved. There were tiny turquoise pieces set along the band, and little gold vines and leafs pricked with the tiniest diamonds, or fake diamond, Rey had ever seen cradling the oval setting. It was so unusual, and so undeniably beautiful. Rey closed it and put it back more carefully this time, sliding the other bundle of socks back over it so it was fully hidden now.

He didn't need to know she'd seen it.

He didn't need to know how much it made her insides riot with jealousy to think of him giving that to anyone, past or future.

Finding that ring didn't do good things for her. It made her insides turn to black smoke. She went back to bed disgruntled.

It wasn't fair of her to wish him unhappiness. And she didn't, really. She wanted him to be happy, wanted it with every part of her except some dark ugly thing curled into her chest. A weakness she'd have to try to overcome. He deserved to find someone to give that ring to. Someone who would love him, and would love — but here Rey had to stop, because that ugly thing in her chest bared its fangs and snarled with outrage at the idea that another woman would love Ben and their baby. Her baby.

She had disturbingly violent dreams that night when she finally did fall asleep. Dreams of attacking other women like a lioness and ripping their throats out. Full of fiery rage, fighting with all the desperation she'd felt in the foster home, competing with a bigger kid for a single Vienna sausage. She'd learned by now that sometimes pregnancy dreams could be crazy, but this was next level disturbing. She woke up spooked by the strength of her own jealousy.

She couldn't stop thinking about it the next day.

They'd been good about avoiding the task of defining their altered status quo. Of examining and putting a name to this new version of their relationship. But being unwilling to define it didn't mean change hadn't come for Rey since she found out she was carrying her best friend's baby.

New and powerful possessiveness was, apparently, part of the deal too. Ben was hers. Nobody else could come in and know the things about him that she knew. They'd spent years building this scaffold, and it was strong. It was worthy. It had pieces of him, and pieces of her, welded together by trust and intimacy and mutual respect. She knew his demons, his faults and flaws, and he knew hers. Nobody could possibly get deeper into the heart of him than she had.

Nobody had their memories.

That surreal night in the desert, with a whole galaxy scattered across the night dome. That time they went to rescue Poe and Jess from that music festival in the mountains when they got too high to remember how to get home. That time Ben had a furious fight with his father and he came to her with tears of rage, needing to break something, so Rey dragged him to an empty lot where she knew people dumped unwanted furniture and appliances, and provided bats for both of them. That creepy little amusement park they found on a road trip, and how convinced they were they were going to die on the rickety, ramshackle roller coaster. All those times when they'd stayed on the phone for hours, talking about everything and nothing at all.

Nobody else could know the way Ben's sable eyes caught the light and turned warm, rich brown, the color of milk chocolate laced with caramel. Or how those same eyes burned like two coals when they held hers as he lay with her.

Rey understood the things he said in bed now. Those aggressive, possessive things. She felt them all herself. Every single one.

"How are you feeling?" he asked when he called her later that day.

"Fine," she said. Not good, she thought.

"Ready to run screaming from my house yet?" He said it like a joke.

"Nope," she replied. I'm never leaving here again.

"Good. Just a couple more days. It's been productive on my end, but I'm definitely ready to be back."

"I'm glad you did what you needed to do. And yes, it feels like a lot longer than three weeks." Come back to me.

"Let's not do this again anytime soon."

"Yeah, deal." You're mine.

The final straw that broke the last of her resistance happened later that same afternoon. She was sitting at his kitchen table working and nibbling on some edamame, shifting uncomfortably because her back had begun to ache. She really just wanted to lay down, but she had to finish this deadline within the hour. So she carried her laptop upstairs to the bedroom and sprawled out on her stomach over the bed, using a few pillows for support. She wouldn't be able to do this very much longer. Even now the press against her firm, gently curved abdomen had become very uncomfortable. With the help of pillows and a strategically hooked leg, she could take some of the weight off and make it bearable. At least it gave her spine some relief.

She tapped out a few lines of copy and was squinting at the wall, trying to think of a nicer synonym for gift when she felt it.

A wriggle.

In some deep place within her, a flutter. A tap. Something.

Life.

She gasped and scrambled out of bed, standing there in the middle of the room, eyes wide, heart leaping. She waited. It didn't happen again. Her hands went to the place, to her swell, pressing in tight against it like it had been on the bed.

And there it was again. That tumble. That squirm.

Unsettling, freaky, enchanting. Something was alive inside her, and it was moving. Rolling, or kicking, or…something.

And then without warning, she burst into tears.

Because Ben wasn't there.

It was ridiculous. She wouldn't really have been able to share it with him even if he were. The movement was felt more from within than without, too deep beneath the surface for him to be able to feel anything. But it didn't matter. He wasn't here to share in her excitement. In the breathtaking, surreal joy of this. She was flooded with the panicked realization that she'd said no. When he asked if she wanted him to marry her, she said no. She'd said she didn't want things to change between them.

Stupid.

Of course they were changed. Everything was changed.

She had to stay here with him, always. She had to stay beside him. Otherwise he would miss so much. And she would too. The whole bleak future unfolded before her. Shared custody, baby shuffled between his place and hers. A first laugh, glittering like light through her own apartment where she alone could hear it. A first step, taken in his, where he applauded and praised with whatever woman was beside him, wearing that ring. The first smile, first step, first word. Either he would get them, or she would, but they wouldn't experience them together. The wonder of this child they made. It wasn't theirs to share, because she said no.

And maybe they could exchange videos of the milestone moments. Maybe they could be friends who hung out together and sometimes got to parent together, but only ever temporarily. Because she said no.

He would have done it. She knew he would have.

God, she was a mess.

She went to the bathroom and splashed cool water over her face, washing away her tears and shocking herself out of his haze of emotion. She was usually better at reining in her feelings than this.

When she got back out, she felt calmer. And more rational. She picked up her phone to text him.

— Ben.

Ben: I'm here.

— I felt the baby move.

And then their text conversation was over, because suddenly her phone was buzzing in her hand with his incoming call. She answered with a soft laugh.

"Hey. Shouldn't you be in a meeting or something?"

"I stepped out. Tell me." His voice was the balm she needed to calm down. Deep and soothing and warm, but firm too. He really wanted to know.

"I was just laying here and I felt it."

"How did it feel?"

"I can't really explain it. A little freaky. Like there's an alien in there or something. But…amazing too. This is real, Ben. It's real."

"Damnit, I wish I were already home."

She hesitated, then added softly. "Me too."

"Two more days." He sounded miserable all of the sudden. "Might as well be a lifetime."

"Ben." Her heart skipped a beat in her chest. "Can I ask you about something?"

"Anything."

"Am I…crazy?"

He chuckled. "I don't think we're supposed to say things like crazy anymore. Someone here told me its offensive. But for what it's worth, I've heard pregnancy can make you feel crazy. But you're not. I promise."

"Am I stubborn?"

"Yes. Extremely." He waited. When she didn't continue, he asked, "Why are you wondering these things about yourself?"

"I just…" She didn't really know how to bring this up with him, and she didn't really know what she wanted out of it. But it was weird to keep so much back from him. She'd always go to him with the things weighing on her mind. Maybe he could help her figure this out too. "Literally everyone we've told about this has asked us if we're getting married. Your mom seems like the only one who doesn't care. Are we doing something wrong by not? Am I?"

The silence on the other end went on for a long time. She had to check to make sure the call hadn't dropped. Eventually she heard him exhale and say carefully, "No, neither of us are doing anything wrong. Why are you thinking about that?"

"It guess I'm just trying to justify it. I've had...doubts. I don't want either of us to miss even a moment of this kid's life. But... it doesn't feel like a good reason, you know? That just because of this situation we're in, we would…make that kind of choice. That if it weren't for this, we wouldn't be doing it at all. Getting married just for the sake of the baby feels wrong. I'm afraid one day we'd wake up and realize it was never about each other. Does that make sense?"

Another long silence. And then, "Yes, it makes sense. It's a good reason."

Rey ought to be glad that Ben felt that way. That he saw why she felt the way she did. Why she said no. She hadn't made a mistake, exactly. But it also didn't change any of the things she'd panicked over a moment before.

Eventually he spoke again and said, "But...I want to just put a couple things out there for you to think about. First of all, you don't have to be married to share a life together. And second of all, is it possible that this could be the catalyst for things we wouldn't have been brave enough to confront before? There is a baby here, and that is the reason people keep throwing around the idea of marriage, but can it also be true that maybe it isn't just about the baby?"

Rey's heart leapt into a nervous rhythm in her chest. "That's...possible," she said softly.

Not only possible, but in her case at least, exactly what was happening.

This turn of events had thrown open doors she meant to keep shut right, and now she was trying in vain to contain the flood rushing through them. She wanted to stay with Ben because she didn't want either of them to miss out on all the moments, but also because of...other reasons. Bigger feelings. A feeling so big, she was afraid to name it.

"They're getting frustrated," he sighed. "I have to go back. I'll be home soon and we can...talk...about this. If you want."

"Okay," she said softly.

He hesitated again. And then said, "goodbye, Rey."

"Bye."

She waited to hang up. She didn't want to. Apparently he didn't either because the call hung there for a while until she heard a man calling his name and then the line went dead.

Rey put her head in her hands and sighed.

She had a lot to think about.

WEEK SEVENTEEN — ONION

When Ben finally got home, he was dismayed by the size of her belly.

It had "popped" finally. A nice round bump, reluctantly released by her unwilling abdominal muscles.

"Gone for three weeks and come back here to find you got pregnant," he accused playfully after she'd hugged him.

She laughed.

"May I?" he asked, a hand hovering like he wanted to touch.

She smirked. The one person who didn't need her permission, the one person who sought it. "Of course you can."

His hands found her then, engulfed her beneath the span of his huge fingers. He slid them along the curve of her, exploring and wondrous. Rey didn't really now how to relate to her changing shape, whether she had fully embraced it or not, but right now, with the expression on his face, she felt beautiful.

He swore softly under his breath, laughing a little as his eyes lifted to hers again. "Why is this the sexiest thing I've ever seen?"

She struggled to conceal how this comment made her preen inside. "Probably biology," she deflected, smiling anyway, "You're witnessing the physical manifestation of your own virility."

He hummed in thought. "Maybe." His hands slid from her belly around to her waist and up her back, pulling her into another hug, this one tighter than the first, nearly lifting her off her feet this time. "That was a long three weeks, little mama."

"Yeah," she agreed breathlessly. "It was."

His face nuzzled into her neck. "I don't want to suggest it if you aren't in the mood, but—"

"I am," she said immediately. "I told you, that's on overdrive now."

Just at the unspoken suggestion of it, she was throbbing down below.

"Thank God," he laughed. "I really wasn't sure how I was going to keep my hands off you."

"Then don't," she urged.

Rey didn't even care that this was now how just friends spoke to each other. She'd spent three weeks in emotional hell trying to figure out how she was supposed to think of Ben now, how she was supposed to relate to him when her feelings were wide open, things she didn't know she felt now exposed. If he wanted to come in here and talk to her in that intoxicating way, and carry her up the stairs like a bride, she wasn't going to stop him.

NINETEEN WEEKS — MANGO

Life was way, way better after Ben got back.

They settled into a new and comfortable routine that didn't require defining, just like before. She was soothed right out of that terrible urgency to figuring everything out that had strangled her while he was gone. It didn't matter much to Ben, apparently, who went on acting like everything in his life was exactly perfect. So Rey decided it didn't matter to her either, right now. If he was unhappy, surely he'd say something, and then maybe they could talk about feelings. But until then, she would be content.

It still wasn't easy to sleep at night, though. She discovered this with no small degree of disappointment. Ben didn't act irritated by all her tossing and turning and struggling to get comfortable, but he did express his concern. So one day he came home with a gigantic body pillow that wrapped around both sides of her. It supported her still tight but growing belly, and tucked between her knees to align her hips better, and cushioned her back just right.

It became Rey's new favorite thing. Suddenly she could sleep again. Deeply. Perfectly. Ben didn't even seem to mind that it was this big barrier between them. He could easily throw it aside when the mood struck. And it did strike, often. Rey finally had relief in the form of a big, strong man perfectly delighted to help her with her surging needs.

The biggest change, though, came in the middle of her nineteenth week, a few days before their scheduled anatomy scan ultrasound.

They were in the kitchen. Ben stood over the stove, stirring the creamy tomato sauce so it didn't boil over, garlic and basil and all kinds of tantalizing smells wafting around them. Rey sat perched on an island stool, pruning the basil plant and handing the chopped leaves to Ben.

Rey was mid-comment about her love for pesto when something thudded hard against her insides. She sucked in a sharp breath of air, moving a hand to the spot, pressing hard against it.

"You okay?" Ben asked, giving her a look.

Something firm definitely nudged her hand. "Come here!" she gasped.

He flipped off the burner and moved the sauce pan onto a cool one, hurrying to her side with a look of concern. She stood up and grabbed his wrist, dragging his hand to her stomach. She held her hand over his, pushing in a little, holding him firmly there. She tilted the heel of his hand in further and held her breath, willing the little nudger to repeat its gesture.

Ben's eyes lifted curiously to meet hers, those fathoms-deep pools of darkness she loved so well. He searched hers, staring like he sought something invaluable and hoped to find it in her.

She held his gaze as the nudge came again, a distinct, insistent push from within by something small and hard, rejecting the press of their hands. His eyes shot wide, darting away from hers and down towards the touch.

It happened again, and he jerked his hand away as if he'd been suddenly scalded, gasping.

She laughed. "Does that freak you out?"

"Yes," he said breathlessly, then sank to his knees in front of her, running both hands down her bump, pressing his palm into the place on her side again.

Thud.

"Hello, my little mango," he whispered. "It's nice to meet you."

Rey impulsively slid her hand into his hair, and his face tilted up to her. Something in her chest pulsed with intense affection.

Without warning, he surged to his feet, one hand coming to the back of her head, pulling her into him, closing the distance between them until he found her lips with his own. The kiss he stole was quick, drawing a gasp out of her and into him, his laughter tumbling against her mouth even before he pulled back again.

Rey reeled.

"I'm sorry," he said, still lingering a few inches away, an innocent, boyish grin crooked on his face.

"What was that?" she asked dizzily.

He laughed again. His grin grew into that big, beautiful Ben smile she loved. "Just expressing my gratitude to the mother of my child."

"Gratitude…" she repeated. Her tongue swept over her lip, sampling the trace of him still left there.

Ben's attention fixed on it with a hungry gleam. "Mm-hmm."

"Do it again," she whispered.

His eyes flashed to hers, hope and disbelief in them. But he must have seen how sincerely she meant it, because a moment later both hands came up to her face, fingers trailing up her jaw, into her hair. He held her gently, and this time more slowly pulled her into him. His big soft lips that were positively made for this swept against hers, a delicious inflamed slide that caught her, made her heart stutter erratically.

Rey shuddered into it. She couldn't believe she'd never kissed him before when it could feel like this. But as her hands came up of their own accord, clutching him to her so he couldn't pull away, feeling his own leave her face and brace her back so he could move more fiercely into her, she knew why they hadn't.

This wasn't friends.

This was much, much more.

This was a free fall. A collision. A wreckage. It was all the stars in the night sky knocked loose to fall in glorious burning ruin. It was the breath of life shared between them, tearing through ragged lungs, set aflame by desperate lips. This give, and this take. This rhythm. It was a prayer, an invocation.

It was them.

Ben broke away first, leaning his forehead against hers, breathing like he'd just sprinted the whole distance to her heart. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to that."

He was right, she didn't know. She didn't even know how long she had wanted it, because it felt like she'd been missing that her whole life. She couldn't really think in a linear pattern right now. Her mind was on mute, only the pounding of her heart echoing through her head. She wanted to do it again. And again. And again. It didn't even matter what it meant, or didn't mean. She slid her fingers deeper into his hair.

"What took you so long?" she asked, and realized she was trembling.

"It was you, you frustrating woman," he growled, and then kissed her once more. Rey's whole body leaned into it this time, going up on her toes, her arms winding around his neck.

She had missed out on so much by not kissing him before now. It had always been there, waiting for her to reach for it. This bliss had been there all along. The floodgates were now thrown open and she was drowning in all her unbridled love for him, but it was a sweet, sweet death. She should have been brave enough to face this before.

This was worth it.

Up next: A sweet potato ultrasound, and some truths.