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I leave the test on the sink and walk in to my bedroom. My brain feels foggy and my body is exhausted, so I crawl beneath the covers and pull the blankets up around me to make a cocoon of safety.
In this cocoon, I do not have to think about the mess I’ve made of my life.
I don’t have to think at all.
I close my eyes and let my mind fog over, and I refuse to think about anything at all.
___
I’m woken up by a pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist.
Killian tenderly kissing the side of my face, then making his way down my neck.
He slides his hand under my shirt to squeeze my breast, and it feels a little tender, but it still feels nice when he teases my nipple.
His perfect mouth touches my shoulder, and he slides a hand down between my legs.
I sigh, and he catches it on his lips.
I’m too sleepy to resist when his finger presses into me. I let him finger fuck me because I desperately need the release.
And once I get it, I curl up in his arms and curl a leg around his body. I nuzzle close to kiss his neck, his jawline, his mouth.
I slide my fingers through his hair and bring him closer, and I rest my head on his muscular chest like in his arms is where I belong.
It should be.
This should be good news.
If he were mine, maybe it would be.
Sooner than I wanted it, yes, but still… good news.
He made jokes about this in Paris, but I’m also afraid of his response now that it’s a reality. I don’t know what his arrangement with Sloane looks like anymore because we don’t talk about her, but I have to imagine news like this could jeopardize everything for him.
And it will crush me to have proof that he cares about it.
He tells me he doesn’t, but I know it’s a generous lie. It’s his way of letting me know he loves me, that I mean a lot to him, but there’s no way it’s the truth.
His life with Sloane… I can’t offer him anything that compares to that.
I’m just his side dish.
His stupid, pregnant side dish.
“What’s wrong?”
I look up at Killian, not realizing I’m making a sad face until he scowls down at me.
“Everything,” I mutter.
He slides his hand along my jawline, then sinks his fingers into my hair. “Anything specific, or just general malaise?”
I look up at him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“No, that’s what’s wrong. I fell in love with you and let you make all these stupid decisions for us, and now we’re going to have to live with them forever and you’re going to hate me.”
