Page 98 of Hating the Boss

“Can they…can they come in?”

“They’ll have to take turns,” he said with a nod and a crinkle of his eye, “But if you’re up to visitors, then I don’t see why not.”

“Thank you. I am.” I nodded eagerly, thinking about how badly I wanted to see Brad right now. I wanted to kiss him again. Our kiss outside my apartment wasn’t nearly long enough for me to believe that everything was going to be okay. That he was real.

A few minutes later, there was a soft knock on my door and Brad strode in. There he was. As if I hadn’t cried enough, I burst into tears. He quickly walked toward me and sat on the edge of the hospital bed, taking my hands in his. The familiar callouses brushed against the tops of my hands, immediately soothing me.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m going to be.” I smiled reassuringly. “Just a little beat up.”

I winced as I tried to sit up.

“Don’t do that,” he said, giving my hands a gentle squeeze.

I lay back against the hospital pillow and looked up at him. His eyes looked red and swollen as if he had been crying. I reached up and touched his cheek gently, running my thumb against the stubble.

“Is the baby…” His voice broke and a tear fell down, kissing the pad of my thumb.

“The baby is fine,” I said, wiping his tear away. “Just fine.”

Brad choked on a sob and leaned down to lay his head against my stomach. I ran my hand through his hair gently. I had never seen him cry, and now his tears were wet against my skin as they seeped through the thin material of my pink hospital gown.

Turning his head, he looked up at me, almost child-like.

“How long have you known?” he asked softly.

“Since yesterday morning.” I smiled softly. “I planned on telling you after the gala.”

His brows raised slightly and he sat up from where he lay against me. He shook his head forlornly.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking down at our hands that were still intertwined. “For everything. For abandoning you at the stupid gala to talk business. For putting you in Angela’s warpath of lies and violence. I never would have thought she was capable of…”

He looked at my neck and shuddered.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his eyes running over the bruises that were surely forming by now.

“A little,” I said, my voice more of a croak.

He wiped a tear from his eye.

“It’s okay,” I said softly, trying to reassure him. He was riddled with guilt and it was painted all over his face. “It’s not your fault.”

He looked at me unconvinced.

“Come here,” I whispered.

He leaned in closer and I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him into me. I pressed my lips against his, feeling the familiarity of his mouth on mine. Savoring the soft breath he released into me. He was real. This was real.

When he pulled away, there was color in his cheeks and a weak smile across his lips. I reached for his hand and placed it gently against my stomach.

“Are you sure you want this?” I asked, searching his face. “Are you sure you want to be a father?”

He looked at me, his brows furrowed and I couldn’t read his expression.

“Because I can do this,” I continued. “I can raise this baby on my own. You can go your own way and—”

“No,” he interrupted me, his voice stern. His eyes grew watery and his voice drifted as his gaze landed on the wall behind me. “I can’t believe you would even imagine that.”