Chapter Twenty-Seven:

The storms are raging on the rolling sea
And on the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
You aint seen nothing like me yet

            "Youre so beautiful."

            Rachel blushed, biting her lip in what she hoped was a sexy manner. Christian smiled that dorky smile that made Rachels stomach do flips, blinking up at her sweetly through his dark lashes. She ran her fingers over the sweat-slick bare skin of Christians chest, marveling at the toned definition of his abdomen. "Youre so handsome," she whispered.

            Posed above Christian, straddling his waist in only a pale pink lace bra, Rachel felt only a touch of self-consciousness. Theyd been together before-both above and below the layers of clothes-and each time only became easier. Christian was different than the other guys Rachel had been with. He genuinely cared about what she had to say, whether it was bitching about the cashier at the supermarket or crying over blowing an audition, he was at her side always offering kind advice. She loved him for that.

            Rachel bent down and pressed her lips to his. It was rare when they got a true moment alone. Between Kurt and Blaines constant drama and Santanas unemployment, as well as their conflicting schedules, time together was a privilege.

            Christians hand tangled in her long hair, arching his body to inch closer to her own. His other palm splayed across her back, dancing over her spine and drawing goose bumps across Rachels arms. "How long do we have?" he asked quietly, ducking their foreheads together and peering up at her longingly.

            She exhaled slowly, wanting nothing more than all the time in the world. "An hour. Santanas shift ends at five."

            Christian sighed, squeezing his eyes closed. "One day Ill take you home with me, back to California. Well stay in my room all day and make love until we cant move," he whispered against her lips.

            Rachel wondered how shed gotten so lucky as to have a man like Christian. She shook her head adoringly, rubbing their noses together. "That sounds perfect." Gripping her by her hips, Christian flipped Rachel down into the mattress and pinned her down, sucking at her collarbone as his hands roamed freely along her stomach. She tilted up into his touch, hissing out, "Do you have protection? I-oh-I stopped taking birth control, you know."

            Christian nodded from where his tongue traced the outline of her bra. "Ive got it under control."

            "Hey, Rach?" Christian called from the bathroom. Rachel threw a t-shirt over her head, glancing in the dresser mirror and frowning at her ruffled bangs.

            "Yeah, babe?"

            "Dont freak out, okay?" Rachel started freaking out.

            "What do you mean ‘dont freak out? Christian, what the hell did you do?" she demanded.

            Christian emerged from the bathroom, arms wrapped around his torso nervously. "The condom broke."

            Rachels eyes widened as panic blossomed in her chest. "Oh, my god, you cant be serious? Oh, my god, shit. Christian, god, what if I get pregnant?"

            Christian shook his head insistently, pulling her close and kissing her forehead comfortingly. "You wont, okay? Theres a one in a million chance. And even if you do, we can work it out. I wont leave you, Rach, I promise."

            Rachel took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of Christian, and nodded reluctantly. Everything would be okay.

            Rachel hardly ever got sick. She took multiple vitamins, visited the doctor regularly, got plenty of sleep, and cleaned every surface twice a day. Her career depended on her health, the strength of her voice and her ability to be present at all times. So when Rachel keeled over mid-rehearsal for NYADAs production of Wicked and promptly vomited over the edge of the stage, she knew something was wrong.

            There was a chorus of disgusted squeals from the group of girls behind her and the front-row directors backed up with horrified glares. Her hand flew up to wipe the sick from her mouth and her entire face heated up with embarrassment. "I am so sorry," she choked out. "Im so sorry-"

            Wrinkling her nose distastefully, Cassandra July waved a hand. "Just take the day off, Berry, and dont come back until you can control your gag reflex. I know our Glindas face isnt the most attractive, but that doesnt call for an impromptu vomit fest."

            Rachel hurried off stage, past the angry Glinda and giggling cast. Back at her apartment, she ran over and over the terrible scene in her mind, wondering where shed screwed up and gotten ill from what appeared to be a stomach bug. In the afternoon, Rachel felt fine. She called Christian and sobbed out what happened to him, feeling only a bit better at his promise of a foot massage.

            After yet another horrific incident of throwing up halfway to the subway, Rachel grew increasingly alarmed. In the back of her mind, Rachel knew what was happening. It wasnt until six drug store pregnancy tests rested on the sink counter, all glowing with positive blue lines, did Rachel understand the expanse of her and Christians mistakes.

            Kurt calmed her down and installed the possibility that there couldnt be a tiny baby nestled in her womb. Rachel was a responsible, independent woman who wouldnt be so careless. And then the tiny examination room echoed with the thump of a miniscule heartbeat and all of her nightmares became a reality.

            There was a little life form growing inside of her; a miniature Christian and Rachel. She considered abortion for half a second, but knew she wouldnt be able to go through with it. Adoption was out of the question-she would never subject anyone to what shed experienced with her fathers and Shelby.

            Regardless of what she was feeling, it wasnt her body anymore. She wouldnt be eating for one, staying strictly within the lines of a healthy diet. She would have to move out of her shoebox apartment and maybe into another city entirely. Her career had been flushed down the toilet, along with any hopes of finishing out her education. God, how could she have been so stupid?

            Christian called her around ten oclock while she sat brooding on the couch tangled in fuzzy blankets as if that would warm the cold inside her heart. She hesitated, not knowing quite what to say nor how exactly to say it.

            "Hello?"

            "Rachel! Rachel, fuck. Fuck, Rachel," Christian cursed. She closed her eyes and bit her lip hard. He knew.

            "I-yes, Im here," she murmured back, hot tears slipping over the apples of her cheeks. "You know."

            "Yes, I know!" he exclaimed. "How the hell could you not tell me?"

            "I just found out. I was trying to think of the right way to say it-"

            "Please, please tell me its not true," Christian begged. "It cant be. Rach, were not ready for a baby."

            "Dont you think I know that?" she cried. "Im the one whos body has to be completely fucked up! Im the one with the ruined future! Im the one who has to determine the future of this life form. God, Im only twenty-three. Im not ready for this. Im not."

            He sighed. "I didnt mean to yell at you. I just...I wish wed thought this through."

            "Me too."

            "No matter what, Ill stick by you. We can figure something out, well make it work. I can find the money to pay for an abortion-"

            "No," Rachel cut him off. She shook her head determinedly. "I wont do that. I cant."

            "Okay. I-I support you. You can move in with me and Ill give you a job at the bar. Ill do everything I can to make sure you can continue doing productions and school for as long as possible-" Christian stopped. "We can figure this out."

            Rachel looked down at her stomach. "We have to," she affirmed. "We have to."