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It shouldn’t, but it always surprises me when the romantic side of my brother rears its head. For the ultimate playboy, he certainly has a romantic heart.
“Enough about me. How was America? How’s Jaxson?”
“America was good. We made a lot of progress on the plans for the new development,” Caleb says.
We move on to talk about the plans for his new project. By the time I leave him, I’ve pushed aside all thoughts of Leah and what she is doing with my cum. I message her, telling her I won’t need dinner. Instead, I head into the office. I spend the rest of the day reviewing the latest market news, drawing up potential lists of new investments before finally tiptoeing back into the apartment.
Two and a half weeks later, Leah walks into my office, her brows drawn and her face pale.
I stand and walk towards her.
“I’m not feeling great,” she says, her eyes not quite meeting mine. “Is it okay if I work from home this afternoon?”
“Of course,” I say.
I frown at her. Something is off, but she doesn’t want to tell me. It’s not appropriate for me to pry, even if I want to.
“Do you want Amanda to order you a taxi?” I ask.
“No, it’s fine. I think some fresh air will do me good, plus the tube will be empty at this time of day.” I’m annoyed when she gives me a weak smile. What isn’t she telling me? “I’ll see you later,” she says before she turns and heads for the door.
“Don’t worry about cooking tonight. I’ll get us a takeout from the Healthy Food Company.”
Leah pauses but doesn’t turn around. She nods once before leaving.
I leave the office early. The need to get home and check on Leah increases throughout the day. Something is wrong.
Maybe she’s picked up a bug.
I enter the silent apartment. The main living area is empty. No sign of Leah anywhere. I head upstairs and listen. I hear the television coming from her bedroom.
I knock. “Leah?” I call through the door.
“Come in, Gabriel,” she says.
I enter, walking through her closet area and into the main bedroom. Leah is sat up in bed, her nose and eyes red. A wad of tissue screwed up in her hand.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask. She looks ill. “Is everything all right?”
She gives me a watery smile, and I watch as a tear trickles down her cheek. She shakes her head. “I’m fine. It’s just my period has come. I forgot how painful they were before I went on the pill.”
She flinches as she moves.
Having grown up with two sisters, periods are nothing out of the ordinary. It takes my brain a moment to catch up... period also equals no baby.
Before I can think, I step forward and sit down on the bed. I pull her into my arms.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbles into my chest.
My brow wrinkles, and an icy chill settles over me. “Sorry for what?” I ask.
“I failed.”
She sniffles, my shirt getting damp under her cheek.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. So it didn’t work this time. You’ve just come off the pill. That can have an enormous effect on a woman’s fertility. Do you think we’re going to give up after one attempt?”
“I should have known you’d have read up on everything possible,” she says, trying to make light of the situation, although her voice catches.
