Terzo was approaching fifty faster than he would like. Aging was terrifying for a man who had lived his entire life going as fast as he could, never stopping to think or consider what might come next. He was a performer first, and himself second.

It was a trait you were well aware of when you first met. Still, he'd pulled you in and you'd fallen for him, like any young, adoring Sister of Sin would have. You knew the man struggled with commitment; that he would never, ever be a family man, no matter how much love he was smothered in. He was a floater for affection from birth, and that habit was damn near unbreakable. So why even try?

You weren't sure why, really. It wasn't even your intention to try, but life had other plans. Those plans included multiple positive pregnancy tests, all taken just after the 90-day deadline for termination.

It wasn't like you could hide it forever. Living in the Church of Satan had its benefits, yes, like food, clothing, and a guaranteed education for your child with little to no cost, but it also forced you to live with the father. The father who wouldn't possibly accept a child of his own. So, maybe it couldn't be hidden forever, but you could damn well try.

Standing outside, you helped the other Sisters pin the uniforms to the clothesline to dry. It was calming work, and your guard was down, no longer sucking in your stomach as you had done around the men. You hadn't been expecting Terzo to show up.

His arms wrapped around you from behind, squeezing you tight, already concerning. "Cara," he greeted, grinning, burying his nose into your shoulder. You tried to get away, but he lifted you up, laughing, being playful.

"Terzo, stop-" you tried to tell him, but he assumed you were saying it playfully. After all, you usually were. As you kicked, he turned, pushing you down into the grass and crawling over you, trying to play as you usually would. Then, his hand slipped under your shirt. He felt it. Felt your baby.

His unpainted face went white, and he pulled away. "{{user}}..."