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Last time she woke up she was vomiting everywhere. I’m not sure if it’s the concussion or the fact she’s pregnant again. Disbelief still hasn’t let it sink in that there’s another life growing inside her. Another life we’ve made together.
“My head…” she groans again, and when she tries to lift her hand to her head, a low, hoarse cry stutters from her lips. “Everything hurts.”
“I know, baby.” Standing, I unwind the rosary and bring my face as close to hers as I can.
“You look like shit,” Fleur smirks when she finally opens her eyes.
“You’re not even slightly funny, do you know that?”
When I press a light kiss to the corner of her mouth, she whispers, “I missed you.”
Something she says often when she wakes up, and that is what crumbles all that’s left of my composure.
“I’m here,” she murmurs, hand trembling as it cups my face. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”
“You are not fine!” My wet bark is muffled by her pillow as I bury my face in the crook of her neck.
I breathe in her tainted scent. It’s blood tinged, the disinfectant scent around us mixed in with it. I need to get myself together. And with one more deep breath, I sit as gently as I can on the bed beside her, noticing that Lucian has left.
When my gaze finds hers again, she raises up the head of the bed a tad to bring herself closer to me.
Fleur’s always been fair, but she’s so ghostly pale right now.
“You can’t yell at a pregnant woman,” she tells me while shakily stroking my face. “I should start calling you super spunk.”
The hoarse chuckle makes me want to shake sense into her. Why can’t she see how bad this could’ve been? Why is she so intent on making light of everything?
“Nothing about this is funny. You could’ve…you could be…you could be gone and…and what then? What would I tell Grace? What would I do?”
Dark eyes bore into mine. “You said not on your watch. Remember? History won’t repeat itself on your watch. I couldn’t let that happen. Not on my watch.”
Stubborn, stubborn woman.
The anger inside me wanes. I can’t be angry at her when she is nothing but good. When her actions reflect everything I love about her.
“Why can’t you be selfish sometimes?”
“Because that’s what’s created this war in the first place. Because you would never forgive yourself if something happened to Arabella and that baby. Not on your watch, or anyone one else’s.” Her hand falls onto the bed, tapping the space at her side.
It’s not an invitation. The set of her
lips and the intensity in her eyes make it an order I can’t refuse. Twisting, I sit back into the bed next to her. With more discomfort than I can bear, she sits up a bit so I can stretch my arm beneath her head, her body tucked perfectly into my side.
“All I’ve ever wanted is to keep you safe. And—”
“And who will protect you if not me? Who will protect your heart and your soul, Casper?” There’s no answer I can give her that she won’t refute. “You and me. That’s all there is. It’s all we are. Us.”
“I know.”
“Nothing in this universe scares me like the possibility of losing you. Absolutely nothing,” she continues, lifting one of my hands to place it over her heart.
“That’s never going to happen. We live together. We love together. If it comes to it, we die together. There’s no me without you, so I will always protect you. As much as I love your body, it’s your soul I’m in love with. Even if you think I’m crazy for it. It’s your soul I want. Why do you think I gave you mine?”
“You’re an arsehole, you know that?” Turning onto my side, I draw myself closer to her. “You can’t even let me be angry with you.”
“You can’t be angry with your pregnant wife. Not when she’s giving you the brood you want.”
“I better give you a honeymoon to go with that honeymoon baby.”
