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WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK CHAPTER 97
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2025-04-18 23:10:31
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WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK CHAPTER 126
The doorbell chimed like an overly excited xylophone, and Lily barely had time to lift her head from the couch before Brenna James swept in like a woman on a mission. She was armed—no, loaded—with a basket the size of a toddler, crammed with prenatal tea, fresh mangoes, three different lotions labeled “bump-safe,” and a large book titled “So You’re Not Allowed to Do It for Nine Months – A Partner’s Survival Guide.”Vandaulf, reclining in his seat with a damp rag slung over his forehead like a thespian in a melodrama, raised an eyebrow."Who gave you that?" he asked, gesturing at the book as if it were contaminated."Helena," Brenna said without missing a beat. "And I've bookmarked Chapter Six: Stop Whining. You're welcome."Lily laughed from under her nest of pillows. "You two are absurd."I have demands," Brenna stated, setting the basket down as if laying down sacred scrolls. "No steps. No running after Barkley. No grasping high shelves. And not one word of debate. I will tape you t
WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK CHAPTER 125
The First Trimester CheckupRain pattered listlessly on the windows of the Carlston Architectural Firm as Vandaulf sat at his polished mahogany desk, shirt sleeves raised, tie open, blueprints strewn over the table like a defiant symphony of stress.He was in deep conversation with his design staff when his phone buzzed twice.Lily : Appointment for baby today at 3:00 PM, mister! Don't you forget! Or me and Barkley will stage a rebellion.Lily : Oh, and. I believe I need french fries afterward.Vandaulf blinked, then grunted, slapping a palm to his forehead."Cancel the afternoon briefing," he grumbled to his assistant, Jonah, who was already mouthing You're late across the room."Should I reschedule the investor call?" Jonah asked, already reaching for the iPad.“Reschedule, apologize profusely, and tell them it’s for my wife and unborn raspberry.”Jonah paused. “That’s. oddly adorable.”Vandaulf was already halfway out the door. “Tell Lily I’m on my way. And get fries.”Meanwhile: A
WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK CHAPTER 124
It started subtly—just a few skipped meals, a bout of queasiness here and there. But when Lily found herself staring suspiciously at her morning croissant as if it were personally offending her, she knew something was off.She shoved the plate across the table. “No. No carbs today. Or ever. Maybe I’ll eat air.”Vandaulf, pajamas-clad with a sleepy Barkley curled on his lap, gazed up, partway through a bite. "Who hurt you, and why is it French pastry?"Lily rested her head on the table. "I don't know. Everything smells strange. The coffee smells like. betrayal. The soap smells like pickles. You smell like cinnamon.""That last one sounds like a compliment.""I loathe cinnamon."He blinked. "What?"She groaned. "I have no idea what's going on. I feel like a Disney princess who's been cursed, and not the one who sings. The one who goes spiraling-into-forest-madness kind." Barkley snorted in sympathy and leapt up onto the table to examine her croissant with intense interest.Vandaulf too
WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK CHAPTER 123
The Carlston sunroom was now officially the headquarters of unsolicited matchmaking, unsolicited grandchild planning, and unsolicited life advice, all doled out to Lily and Vandaulf, who had had the tragic error of sitting down.Helena was sitting atop her flower throne, wafting herself cool with a dramatic use of a napkin. Brenna sat cross-legged on the couch with a clipboard she somehow produced out of thin air, pen clutched in her hand and glasses pushed to the end of her nose as if about to file a court complaint.Lily raised an eyebrow suspiciously at the clipboard. "What. is that?"Brenna clicked her pen. "A schedule.""A schedule for what?" Vandaulf blanched."For conceiving."Vandaulf gagged on his tea. "I—I beg your pardon?!"Helena grinned. "It's dubbed 'Operation: Grandchild.' Brenna and I have been brainstorming it since before you two exchanged vows.""We had a whiteboard," Brenna boasted.Lily's jaw dropped. "There's a whiteboard?""In my sewing room," replied Helena. "B
WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK CHAPTER 122
Sunlight streamed golden in through the tall windows of the Carlston home, warming the breakfast room to a comforting glow. Lily huddled on a chair that was velvet-padded, her hair rumpled from sleep, her robe tied loosely that Vandaulf still found more distracting than toast.Across from him, Vandaulf was attempting to butter his croissant with one hand while the other idly stroked her ankle beneath the table. "I believe we should have stricter breakfast dress codes," he whispered, his eyes dark with mischief.Oh, I don't know," Lily replied, sipping her tea in mock innocence. "You butter that croissant any more slowly, we'll be here till lunch. And besides, you're the one who said you loved mornings like these.""I said I liked slow mornings," he replied, glinting with amusement. "Didn't know it would involve watching my wife lick marmalade off her spoon like that."Lily smiled and did it again on purpose, raising an eyebrow. "Like this?He groaned, throwing his napkin onto the tabl
WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK WHERE LIGHT MEETS DARK CHAPTER 121
The sunlight seeped in slowly through the linen curtains—warm, golden, and languid. It bathed everything in warm, forgiving hues. Lily woke up for the first time in a long time without the weight of nightmares. No jolts. No screams muffled in her throat. Just breath. Steady. Real.She could sense the rising and falling of Vandaulf's chest even before she opened her eyes. He slept—his arm draped protectively over her waist, their legs entwined like vines. His face, too often tense with unsaid words, was relaxed now. Almost boyish in sleep.She remained motionless. Not yet.She noticed instead the lines of his jaw, the small scar alongside his right temple, the hardness and obstinacy of his mouth easing a little here in the quiet. There was something intimate about watching someone this vulnerable. No war. No heritage. Only skin and breathing and the man who had chosen her when he did not have to.Her fingers roamed upward, brushing a wayward strand of hair from his forehead.He moved,
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