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“Hi,” I rasped.
Elden rushed to grab the pitcher of water beside my bed, pouring it into a glass—glass, not a plastic cup which meant my mother or Freya had been here—and gave it to me.
I took it thankfully, my throat burning and dry.
Elden watched me, his eyes full of cerulean fire.
I handed him back the glass and took stock of my body. My shoulder burned dully, my entire body felt tight, tense, achy, as if I’d done a really intense workout the day before. It made sense, my fight or flight response had been triggered, and I’d done both. My hand went to my stomach, comforted to know that the doctors had found a steady heartbeat.
On cue, our little girl wiggled beneath my palm.
“I’m fine,” I told Elden, though I knew that wouldn’t make much of a difference to him right now.
He didn’t respond, just continued with the intense stare thing.
I sighed, pushing myself up, or trying to. Elden was at my side in a moment, lifting me up to a sitting position with care.
His lips landed on my head, and he stayed there for a moment, breathing me in before he sat back in the chair that was as close to my bed as humanly possible.
“We need to get married,” he said.
I rubbed my eyes, staring at him and waiting for the punchline. None came. He was Elden, serious, intense, somber.
I didn’t reply because what did someone say to their baby daddy who informed them they were getting married—informed, didn’t ask—after they woke up in a hospital bed after having an altercation with a serial killer?
“You’re gonna argue with me on that,” he murmured.
“Yes,” I sighed. “When I’ve gotten my bearings, we are going to argue about the marriage we both refused when my stepfather tried to force it on us. When I told you that a baby is not a reason to get married, and that I loathed the institution of it because all it does is make women the property of men.”
Elden just looked at me. He didn’t smile, face completely devoid of emotion. The corner of his lip didn’t even turn up in that kind of smile he had. He just stared, his eyes twinkling ever so slightly. But there were also plenty of shadows in them. Surrounding him. He was haunted, already by what happened. It hurt me to see it, but it didn’t stop me from being pissed.
“If this is you without your bearings, I’m gonna need to prepare,” he commented dryly.
I scowled at him, but before I could launch into another diatribe, he moved forward, grasping my hands in his and lifting them up to his mouth, kissing them lovingly.
My readiness to argue drained out of me.
“I’ve never been more scared in my life,” he whispered, eyes searing into me. “Hearing you cry out like that, hearing you fight off that fuck and knowing I wouldn’t get there in time.” He shuddered. No,shudderedwas not the right word for it. Something cracked in the core of him, like a massive earthquake, destroying everything. And this was just an aftershock.
“I’m okay,” I told him in a whisper, trying to fight back tears at seeing my strong man unraveling before my eyes.
He was still grasping my hands, like they were his only lifeboat in the middle of a storm.
“I wasn’t there,” his nostrils flared. “I should’ve fuckin’ been there.”
“How could you have known that a serial killer would be lying in wait when I was innocently getting brownies?”
The joke didn’t land.
“This isn’t your fault,” I told him firmly. “And youwerethere. Youwerewith me. You helped me fight.”
Elden shook his head, lips still at my hands. “No, you fought for yourself. For me.” His hands went to my stomach. “For us.”
My eyes filled with tears that I fought not to let fall.
“Did someone call Jenna’s family?” I asked weakly.
Elden blinked at the change in subject.
