Page 116 of Ex's Accidental Baby

“A couple hours.” I brush her hair back from her face again.

It’s damp, like she’s been sweating.

“Try and get some rest, princess. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

She pouts, but I keep stroking her hair, and she eventually closes her eyes, her breath coming deep and even.

I watch her sleeping face, her high cheekbones, long lashes. I kiss along her cheekbone for a moment until she stirs, and I move away, not wanting to wake her.

I haven’t been sleeping well for the last few days, sexually frustrated by Meredith. I can’t even take myself in hand without thinking of her. Can’t close my eyes without seeing her.

I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until the tech comes in to take out Meredith’s IV.

Meredith’s awake and staring at me, but she waits until we’re wheeling her down the ramp in her wheelchair before she speaks.

“When are you going to tell me the truth?”

“Soon.” I pause. “But I have conditions.”

She barks out a laugh. “Conditions? A liar has conditions?”

“A few. Like for one, I want you to stop work.”

“Never going to happen.”

I groan, putting her in the car, waving away the tech who accompanied us.

“Then I want you to move in with me.”

“You live in a hotel room.”

“I’ll get a place by tomorrow. You stay with me tonight.”

I expect her to complain, but instead, she nods.

“All right. Fair enough.”

I tilt my head before focusing on the road and pulling into the highway. “I expected some pushback.”

“Today scared me.” Her voice is quiet as she looks out the window. “I was alone on the street when it happened. People just kept stepping over me… I think it’s best I do have some supervision.”

“I’ll never let you out of my sight again.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?” She smiles at me, but I just stare straight ahead at the road.

I’m not going to let her out of my sight, and maybe it is dramatic, but I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to her or our baby.

It would be a fate worse than death, to lose her like that, to lose our baby.

My chest tightens just imagining it.

We arrive at the hotel, and I want to carry her inside, but she smacks me, insists on walking.

“It looks weird for you to be carrying some fat girl around.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not fat. You’re glowing.”

She snorts. “Sure, okay, tell that to my toothbrush. I’m getting too much use of it after throwing up every thirty minutes.”

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