Husband With Benefits-Chapter 872: Pregnant Or Not?

Arabelle stared at the pregnancy test in front of her as though it were a demon summoned straight from hell. In truth, she would have preferred an actual demon, horns and all. At least she knew how to deal with those. This, though? This was terrifying on an entirely new level.

She was only a week late, barely enough time to panic—or so she had told herself for days. Gabe, ever the calm voice of reason, had simply shrugged when she’d brought it up. "Just go with the flow," he had said. As if that were an option when her brain refused to think straight.

And then there was Rafael. Why did he keep asking to meet her? It had been three weeks since that night, and she’d been certain he would move on by now. Men like Rafael Ignis, with their princely titles and flawless reputations, had no business lingering over someone like her. They were supposed to have better things to do, important lives to lead, and distractions to chase after.

Still, she knew better than to expect such luck. Rafael was nothing if not persistent. Of course, he’d want to know. He was principled like that, annoyingly so. If there was even a chance she was pregnant, he’d insist on answers—and worse, involvement.

The only way to shake him off was to take the damn test, confirm she wasn’t pregnant, and chalk all this up to some hormonal fluke. Simple enough.

Or it would have been, if the sharp ring of the doorbell hadn’t echoed through her small apartment just as she reached for the test. Arabelle froze, the sudden noise jolting her out of her thoughts. Her heart stuttered in her chest as her gaze darted to the door. Midnight. Who in their right mind would show up at her door at this hour?

She crept closer and peered through the peephole, only to stagger back as if burned. Him.

Had Rafael somehow discovered she’d just bought a pregnancy test? The idea was absurd, but her mind spiraled anyway. There was no way he knew... right?

Get rid of him. Fast. The thought propelled her into action. She grabbed the test and shoved it under a random book on the table. It was a flimsy attempt at hiding it, but it would have to do. Swallowing hard, she straightened her shirt, buttoned it all the way, brushed a hand through her hair, and forced her legs to move toward the door.

She paused just a moment longer than she should have before unlocking and pulling it open.

And there he stood. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

For a brief, charged moment, they simply stared at each other, neither speaking. The air seemed to shift.

Rafe stared at the woman who had opened the door, and his stomach clenched tight, a visceral reaction that he hadn’t been prepared for. He had spent the entire drive here convincing himself that the burning attraction he felt for her was nothing more than leftover adrenaline from that night. A fleeting, chemical reaction—temporary and meaningless.

What a joke.

Because now, standing in front of her, with her brows furrowed in a scowl and her hand gripping the edge of the door as if debating whether to slam it in his face, that same attraction roared to life, consuming every rational thought. He couldn’t look away.

Her hair was mussed, like she’d run her hands through it one too many times. Her shirt, buttoned to her neck, should have made her look composed. Instead, it only made him imagine ripping those buttons open, one by one, and kissing every inch of skin he uncovered.

He swallowed hard, forcing the ridiculous thoughts out of his head—or trying to. This was insanity. Absolute insanity is what it was.

And then she spoke, her voice sharp and tinged with exasperation.

"Rafael." His name on her lips in that low voice of hers was like dagger aimed at his resolve. Except it didn’t pierce his head. No, it hit the wrong one entirely, stirring a heat that made him want to curse some more.

He cleared his throat, fighting to keep his tone even. "Arabelle. May I come in?"

Her hesitation was written all over her face. She looked like she was two seconds away from telling him to turn around and leave.

But Rafe wasn’t in the mood to be refused. He didn’t give her the chance.

With a firm step forward, he brushed past her, ignoring her weak attempt to block his way. And then he walked over to the dining table and took a seat. " We need to talk."

"What is there to talk about? I already told you the last time we talked that I would let you know if there are any consequences." Arabelle asked defensively as she glanced at the place where he’d gone to sit. Darn it! Of all the places around the table, he sat on the chair where she’d been sitting! The only thing hiding the pregnancy test from his was a book about... chimpanzees.

"That is not what I am here to discuss. I think we should start dating. Even if there are no so-called consequences." Rage blurted out.

That is not what he had planned to say. Definitely not. He’d planned to ask her to come with him to the doctor to confirm things and then calmly discuss the future course of action. But all that careful planning and wording flew out of the window the moment he saw her.

Of all the things she’d expected Rafael to say, this hadn’t even crossed her mind.

"Dating?" she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief. "Why? Why on earth would you suggest that?"

Rafael leaned back in the chair, his gaze fixed on her.

"Because," he said, "we’re still attracted to each other. Deny it all you want, but you feel it too."

Her jaw tightened, and she folded her arms across her chest as if shielding herself from his words. "That’s ridiculous. Whatever you think you’re feeling, it’s... it’s just leftover adrenaline. A... a momentary lapse in judgment. And I definitely don’t feel it."