Not everyone in Stellar Landing was a friend.

Chris kept that in mind as they settled in again at their condominium. There were the usual residents; the year-round people who had made the unusual community their home—Carl who ran the general store, Holly who owned the café, her daughter Gladys who was a writer and made sure that everyone in Stellar had an active social life. There was Denise, who sometimes babysat Elizabeth, and her rambunctious boys; and James who sometimes turned his condo into a makeshift pub where friends could have a drink and play cards. These were the people that they got to know during their first few stays in Stellar.

But there were also several units that were rented out to vacationers; people who did not love Stellar Landing like the rest of them, and didn’t value the community. That didn’t mean they were bad people, of course, but Chris and Raff had no reason to trust them.

When the first reporters showed up in the lobby of Stellar Landing, Chris refused to believe that it was any of their friends and neighbors that notified the press. It had to be one of the vacationers, he thought. He didn’t want to look at Holly or James and think they could possibly have betrayed his family in that way.

The staff at Stellar Landing made quick work of the reporters, threatening legal action if they stepped onto the property again. After that, the journalists just hung out at the entrance to the driveway on public land, flagging down anyone coming or going and barraging them with questions. The threats worked with reporters from local newspapers and the larger news sources, but the less-ethical photographers that sold to the tacky tabloids were shameless and merciless. They hid in bushes outside the apartment building or the rehab center, hoping to catch a candid shot. The Fairbanks Fact, a vile gossip blog that contained anything but facts, featured a photo of Raff exiting the rehab center with the title, “Sexy Swindler Spotted in Stellar”. Raff looked both surprised and angry, his eyes glowing from the flash and his fists clenched. He looked rather scary, and that was no doubt the photographer’s intent.

At first, everyone in Stellar Landing was supportive. They couldn’t believe that something so outrageous was happening to one of their own. But as articles and photos of Raff started popping up more and more, it became apparent that the residents were actually reading them and then forming opinions. It would have been hard to avoid them.

Chris was almost three months pregnant. He had less morning sickness this time around though he was gaining more weight, but he felt physically well. There was always a chance for complications, particularly with an implanted womb, but Chris’s doctor said everything looked great. Chris was filled with worry though that, when he started to show, the reporters and paparazzi would become even more vicious. There was nothing like a pregnant man—with a supposed criminal for a husband, no less—to sell a gossip rag. During his first pregnancy, he was clumsy and slow by the seventh month. How would he dodge the press while he was swollen with child? Would he and the baby be in danger?

Trick Daniels’ trial was scheduled to begin in a month. Maybe it would all be over shortly after that. One could hope.

In the meantime, Raff and Chris were starting to get looks in the lobby and in the café; mostly curious looks, but Chris thought some of them bordered on dirty. People whom they considered friends or at least friendly acquaintances were starting to avoid them.

Chris and Raff decided that it might be safer to keep Elizabeth at home during the day when Raff went to the rehab center. Their friend Denise was so good with her, and she had playmates every afternoon when Denise’s three boys got home from school. Normally rough with each other, the boys knew how to be gentle with a small child, and would even play dolls with her when she thrust one of her little ragdolls at them. Chris and Raff knew their daughter was safe, and it was also nice knowing that Elizabeth actually enjoyed the place where she spent much of her day.

Raff was going in early those days, getting out of the house and into the office before most of the reporters arrived. Chris walked Elizabeth down the hall and to the elevator that morning, where she loved to press the button for Denise’s floor. Elizabeth knew which door belonged to her babysitter, and took great pleasure in banging on it with her tiny fist. It was a game she and Denise played—Elizabeth would knock, and then Denise would answer while kneeling, so that she and the tot were face-to-face. Even though Elizabeth knew it was coming, she squealed with laughter every time Denise’s round face appeared in front of her. Denise seemed to enjoy it just as much as the little girl.

One morning though, Denise opened the door without kneeling, a worried expression on her face. She quickly realized that Elizabeth was disappointed and swooped down to pick her up with a kiss, but the look on Denise’s face caused Chris’s stomach to drop.

What now?

“This is going to be my last week. I’m so sorry. Aaron is just uncomfortable with . . . with what’s been going on lately. He’s concerned that we aren’t safe, I guess.”

“You mean the press? Have they been bothering him? I’m so sorry, Denise.”

“Well . . . it’s not exactly that.” Her face showed absolute dread. “You know I love you and Raff, and I know that Raff does some great things over at Mountainview Rehab. But Aaron hasn’t really had the chance to get to know him like I have.” She bit her lip and looked away. “I’m sorry.”

It dawned on Chris what she meant. Her husband thought that Raff might actually be a thief, or might still be the same person who caused that terrible accident sixteen years ago. Chris suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

Chris gathered Elizabeth back from Denise’s arms. He assured Denise that he understood, that he wasn’t angry, but that he would just stay home with the baby that day.

“No big deal,” he said, with a smile as he backed away from the door. His face burned and his ears thumped as he carried Elizabeth back to the elevator and then back to their condo.

Calm down. Watch your blood pressure. Not worth it. Think of the baby.

Elizabeth kept saying, “Dee dee? Dee dee?” wondering why she wasn’t still playing at Denise’s house and, after quick texts to his assistant and Raff, Chris sat down in front of her dollhouse to distract her. It would do him good to take the day off. He picked up a doll with blue hair and started to talk in a funny voice.

There was something meditative about playing with a young child. Elizabeth had simple needs, and she made them clear. She wanted to play, she wanted a drink, she wanted something to eat, she needed to pee. There were no ulterior motives, no suspicions, no malevolence. Chris wished adults were so transparent.

As they played with her little ragdolls, handmade by Grandma back in New York, Chris felt himself calming down and his thoughts becoming crystal clear.

Could he blame Denise’s husband Aaron for his fear? Absolutely not. Chris would probably react the same way in the same situation—he would protect his family. That didn’t change the fact that they no longer had a babysitter, and it didn’t make him feel any better that they seemed to be becoming the pariahs of the building.

By the time Raff got home from work, it was almost 6pm, and Chris hadn’t even thought about dinner.

“I don’t know how you do it, Raff. She kept me busy all day. There’s another frozen lasagna in the freezer.”

Raff smirked as he pulled Chris close and kissed him in greeting. “Some omega you are,” he joked, but then added, “It takes practice. And besides, now I get to take the two of you out. How about Holly’s café?”

Considering that they only left the building when absolutely necessary, it was really their only choice, but it was still nice to be “going out”. His mood lifted as he changed his shirt while Raff played with their daughter.

He could hear them talking in the living room. Raff asked her about her day, and she responded with a few words and giggles. Yes, Chris would do whatever it took to protect those two. He’d call the Attorney General of New York in the morning and find out what was going on with Trick Daniels’ case.

Holly’s café was as busy as usual. She was the owner, the maître d’ and the chef (and sometimes even the bouncer, or so she joked), and as Chris and Raff entered, she only had time to yell hello from the kitchen as she rushed about. Heads turned, and some of them smiled or waved, but others leaned over to their companions and began to whisper. Chris felt his face turn red.

Chris glanced at Raff to see if he noticed, but he was focused on getting Elizabeth into a high chair.

“Our resident celebrities,” Holly said with a wink, when she finally stopped by. They were already half-through with the daily special, Brunswick stew with freshly baked bread. “How are y’all handling things?” She didn’t even need to be specific.

“We’re handling it,” Raff said, his demeanor darkening ever so slightly. “There’s not much we can do but wait.”

Holly put her arms lightly around his shoulders and leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m rooting for y’all. I know not everyone is, and that’s gotta be hard.”

Raff looked at her blankly but didn’t respond with more than mumbled thanks.

“What is she talking about?” Raff hissed after she walked away. “Who is not rooting for us?”

“It’s nothing. I’ll tell you later.”

Raff looked around them as if just noticing that they were surrounded, and his jaw clenched. “None of these people believe I’m innocent, do they?”

“Holly obviously does. Gladys does. Denise does.”

“And that’s it?” His volume was rising.

Elizabeth’s eyes got big even as she crammed buttered bread into her mouth. She wasn’t used to her gentle Papa raising his voice.

“Raff, let’s discuss it when we get home.” Chris pulled cash out of his wallet, set it down and stood without finishing his meal. It seemed like the wisest course of action considering.

Again, all around them, a few smiles, a few waves and several looks that ran from curious to concerned. But now, Raff actually noticed. Chris saw his jaw clenching as they left.

The brief walk from the restaurant to the elevator and then to their condo felt interminable. Raff stared straight ahead. The man may have been gentle, calm, and humble most of the time but, when he was angry, he became a mountain—big, strong and filled with silent indignation.

Chris stayed quiet himself. Raff needed some time and he couldn’t change that.

As Chris rocked and read to Elizabeth, he heard Raff take a quick shower and go to bed, closing the bedroom door behind him.

It was the first time in their relationship that Raff had gone to bed without kissing Chris goodnight.