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Shutting myself into my bedroom, I slump against the wall.

My heart is hammering in my chest. I am still in disbelief that Marshall not only managed to get into my apartment but also had the audacity to think he could just move in.

I lock the bedroom door, just in case, and crawl back into bed.

“Fucking, Marshall Law.”

March 10 — 10 Weeks 1 Day, Lime

The next morning, I wake to a delicious smell wafting through the apartment.

Following my nose, I make my way to the kitchen to, once again, find Marshall Fucking Law standing there, making breakfast at six in the morning.

“MARSHALL!” I shout. “What the hell!”

He spins around, looking deliciously rumpled in his tight-fitting t-shirt, sweatpants, and bedhead.

“Morning!” He says cheerfully, ignoring my rage and returning to what he was doing at the stove.

“You’re still here,” I say in disbelief.

“Well, yeah. I found the guest room and slept there. Hope you don’t mind. I made myself at home.” He says, shrugging.

“I mind. I very much mind.” I snap, my frustration with this man increasing with every passing second.

“Well, I tried calling you yesterday, but you didn’t answer.” He continues.

“So, you broke into my apartment?” I squeak, pacing toward him.

“Just returning the favor, princess.” He jokes, making my scowl deepen. “The front desk person was really sweet and understanding. They helped me get everything up here last night.”

“How did you get in? They don’t keep keys to the individual units.” I ask, mentally composing the email to building management about letting uninvited guests into the building.

“Selene gave me her key.” He says simply.

Of course, she did.

I can’t help but stand there, frozen in place, as the whole scenario plays out in my mind. How he turned on his charm and pled his case to Selene and, true romantic that she is, she caved and gave in to his bizarre plan.

In fairness, she did the same thing for me, but it feels invasive, nonetheless.

At least she’s technically his landlord.

“Marshall. Be reasonable. You can’t just move in with me.” I say, shaking my head.

“I can, though.” He says simply. “I don’t have a lease to break. Moving is super easy for me. You have the space. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is…” I sigh, frustrated. “It’s…”

“Exactly.” He says with a massive grin on his face.

I close my eyes, searching for patience. “But why? Why the fuck would you move in with me?”

This time, there’s quiet before he responds, as though he’s genuinely thinking through his answer.

When I finally bring myself to face him once again, he’s standing there with a spatula in hand, looking down at me with the most deadpan expression I’ve ever witnessed him make.

“Because you’re having my baby, and I’m not letting one day pass without me being there to support my family.” He says, his voice completely serious.

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