Husband With Benefits-Chapter 873: Dam*

"This is not some leftover attraction, alright." Rafe’s voice echoed with frustration as his hand came down hard on the table, the loud thud breaking the tension-filled silence between them. He watched as her eyes widened, her expression shifting into something he couldn’t quite place.

A pang of regret hit him immediately. Had he scared her? The sudden burst of anger felt like too much now, too overwhelming, even to him. He opened his mouth, an apology forming on his lips, but before he could utter a word, her gaze flickered downward. Her focus wasn’t on him anymore but rather on something on the table.

Curious and a little unnerved, Rafe followed the direction of her gaze. His chest tightened when he saw it.

There, lying innocently next to his hand, was a pregnancy test. Unused, but unmistakable. The sight of it brought an abrupt stillness to him, as though the air had been sucked out of the room. His throat felt dry as he slowly lifted his gaze back to her, his voice tight when he finally spoke.

"You were going to use this?"

Arabelle’s sent him a smirk that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she stared back at him. "Nope. Thought I’d frame it as modern art. Really ties the room together, don’t you think?"

Rafe narrowed his eyes, unfazed. "So, you’re saying you have doubts that you’re pregnant."

Her smirk faltered, but she recovered quickly, shrugging with exaggerated nonchalance. "What? No, of course not. I just love to keep these around for emergencies. You never know when one might come in handy as a paperweight or maybe a doorstop."

"There’s no other reason to get a pregnancy test," he stated flatly, crossing his arms as his gaze bore into hers.

"I just..." Arabelle floundered, rolling her eyes as if the question were absurd. "Maybe I was curious, okay? Or maybe I’m just a sucker for the pretty pink packaging. What do you want from me, Rafe?"

Without answering, he stood abruptly, the scrape of his chair against the floor cutting through the air. He reached for the test, holding it out to her like it was a peace offering—or a challenge. "Do it."

She blinked at him, then at the test in his hand, her brows shooting up. "What? Are you serious right now?"

"What’s crazy about that?" he shot back calmly. "We’re both in this, right? If you’re pregnant, you’ll have to tell me anyway. This just spares you the awkward ’Hey, by the way’ conversation later."

Arabelle crossed her arms and tilted her head, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. "Oh, right. Because nothing says ’mutual support’ like waving a pregnancy test in my face and telling me to go pee on it."

Rafe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as his lips twitched with the hint of a smirk. "I’m not waving it in your face," he said, shaking the test lightly for effect. "I’m holding it, very politely, I might add. But hey, if you’d rather wait until you start craving pickles and ice cream, that’s fine too."

Her jaw dropped, a mix of disbelief and amusement lighting up her features. "Pickles and ice cream? Wow. What a modern man you are, throwing out every pregnancy cliché in the book."

"Arabelle," he said, his voice softening but still insistent, "if there’s even a chance—"

"Yeah, yeah. ’We need to know,’" she interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "Fine, Prince Responsibility. But don’t think for a second this means you get to boss me around. Or have a say in my life."

"Wouldn’t dream of it," he said in a tone that was definitlely saying that he was lying. "But maybe this’ll save us both a little sleepless night or two."

Her fingers brushed against his as she took the test, her expression a mixture of defiance and something softer she wouldn’t let him see. "You’re lucky I don’t make you take it just to prove a point," she muttered under her breath, spinning on her heel and marching toward the bathroom.

"Good luck with that," he called after her, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at his lips. "I assure you if I do take it, will come out negative."

He watched her walk away, her shoulders squared, the pregnancy test clutched in her hand like it was a battle flag. He sighed, running a hand down his face as he sat back down in his chair. Okay. This was it. He was here now waiting for the result that could change everything.

And finally, after all this anxiety, he had one answer—one truth that had settled deep in his chest, no matter what the test revealed. He had fallen in love with her at first sight. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, as undeniable as the air he breathed. And yet it did not make him panic.

It had shaken something loose in him that he hadn’t even realized was locked away, almost giving him a sense of peace.

Because, honestly, what other explanation unless one could explain insanity, could there be for the fact that he was sitting here, silently praying for the test to be positive? Not because he was ready. Not because he wanted the complications that would inevitably follow. No, it wasn’t logic or practicality driving this strange hope.

It was her.

The thought made his chest tighten, his heart beating harder than he liked to admit. He wasn’t naïve—he knew a positive result would open the door to a whole new world of problems. She’d already said that she might not keep it. It wasn’t as though either of them was in the best place for this, and he could already hear the avalanche of arguments they’d have to navigate.

But still, the thought of it, of something tying them together permanently, made him want to kneel down and pray harder than he ever had before. He wasn’t even sure what he was asking for—certainty? Connection? A chance to prove he could be something more to her?

Whatever it was, he couldn’t deny the truth of it. He wanted her in his life, tied to him in a way that couldn’t be easily unraveled. Maybe it was selfish. Maybe it was crazy. But that was it.