Page 110 of One Reckless Night

But I wasn’t going to get them. It left me feeling defeated and maybe a little hopeless.

Jared was quiet as he fluffed pillows and adjusted the blankets. It was strange, seeing him like this. The man who was always so confident, so in control, now seemed skittish. He was just as uncomfortable as I was.

He helped me into bed and tucked me in.

“Here’s the remote,” he said.

I stared at the wall. “To what?” I asked.

He grinned and pushed a button. To my shock, a large television slowly rose up from the foot of the bed. “The TV,” he said.

“Oh my.”

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

He left the room, and I stared at the blank TV screen, my mind swirling with too many thoughts to sort through. This was all so much—too much, maybe. I didn’t know how to feel about Jared’s sudden intensity, the way he was hovering over me like I might shatter if he looked away for too long. Part of me wanted to believe it was genuine care, but another part of me couldn’t shake the fear that it was guilt or obligation. Or worse—that it wouldn’t last.

The door creaked open again, and Jared walked back in carrying a large ice chest. He set it down on the bedside table with a thud and opened the lid, revealing an assortment of snacks and drinks meticulously packed inside. There were bags of crisps, chocolate bars, bottles of sparkling water, and even a few fresh fruit containers. It was like he’d raided a corner store just for me.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “So I got a bit of everything.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. “A bit? Jared, this is enough to feed an army.”

He shrugged, looking almost sheepish—a rare expression for him. “Better to have options.”

I reached for a bottle of water and he handed it to me. “Thank you,” I said.

“I need to go to the office for a bit,” he said. “Will you be okay here? Clair will be coming by soon to sit with you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“But you do.”

Arguing was futile. “Can you bring my laptop back with you? I need to get some work done.”

He frowned, shaking his head. “Amelia, you’re on bedrest. You shouldn’t be working. No stress.”

I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “I’m about to have a baby, Jared. I need to work. I’m not going to give up my career, or my health insurance, or anything else just because you think I should rest.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think you should rest. I know you have to if you want to survive the next five months.”

“I don’t know what you’re expecting of me right now. You have a job to do⁠—”

“Your job right now is to rest⁠—”

I wanted to scream in frustration. “I can’t do that here, with you, with everything up in the air⁠—”

“I’m the one that messed up, and I’m trying to fix it.”

“I don’t need you to fix it, Jared,” I said, my voice breaking. “I just need you here. I don’t need stuff. I don’t need your money or you hovering around acting like my doctor. I need you. Just you.”

He looked at me like I’d just slapped him, his expression a mix of shock and something else I couldn’t quite place. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.

“Why are you even interested in someone like me?” he asked finally, his voice quiet. “Someone capable of hurting you, of putting you last, of putting my career first? What if I fail? What if I’m no longer the best, the smartest, the most talented?”

I stared at him, my heart aching. “I’ve never cared about those things, Jared. Just you.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “You deserve better.”