Page 154 of What Comes Around

Some days it was just nausea. Other days, like today, it was this.

“Wait here,” Knox said.

I almost laughed weakly. Where did he think I was going to go?

Another wave hit and I heaved again. When it passed, Knox handed me a fresh tissue and steadied me as I wiped my mouth.

“Here.” He pressed my water bottle into my hand. “Small sips.”

Easy for him to say. His throat wasn’t raw from acid.

Still, I obeyed, taking slow, careful sips.

When I finally managed to stand, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and winced. Pale skin, dark circles, hair a mess. I definitely didn’t look like one of those glowing pregnant women from magazine articles.

Knox stepped up behind me, his gaze meeting mine in the reflection, and like he’d read my thoughts, his expression softened.

“You’re carrying my child,” he said quietly. “You’ve never been more beautiful.”

My chest tightened as his hands slid gently over my stomach.

“Show me my baby, Ash.”

A faint smile touched my lips. I turned toward him and lifted the hem of my camisole, exposing the soft curve. It was small, but unmistakable now. I’d only started showing last week, and somehow that had been enough for Knox. Every morning since, he wanted to see it.

He dropped to one knee in front of me, his touch careful, almost reverent, before pressing a soft kiss to the swell of my stomach.

“Good morning, baby,” he murmured.

Despite everything, the nausea, the exhaustion, the fear, warmth bloomed in my chest. Having Knox beside me through this changed everything. He hovered constantly, making sure I drank enough water, keeping crackers on my nightstand, pulling blankets over me when I fell asleep unexpectedly.

It was sweet and exactly what I needed.

He rose slowly, his hands sliding up my sides until they rested on my waist. His forehead touched mine, his breath warm against my lips.

“Ash,” he said quietly, “I need you to know something.”

I blinked up at him. “What?”

His thumb traced softly along my cheek, his touch almost reverent. “I love you.”

For a heartbeat, I couldn’t breathe.

I had promised myself I would never say those words again. Not after my last life. Not after everything I’d lost.

But somewhere along the way, in quiet mornings like this, in the doctor’s office, in the way he held me when I was sick, the feeling had slipped past all my defenses.

I swallowed hard. “Knox…”

His eyes searched mine, open in a way he rarely allowed. “You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know.”

But I did want to say it.

I wanted him to hear it.

“I love you too,” I whispered.

His breath caught. His hands tightened at my waist, pulling me closer, and the way he looked at me made something deep in my chest ache.