Page 110 of My Big, Fat, Secret Billionaire Baby

A fragile, terrifying flicker thatmaybe things could be different this time. That maybehecould be different.

What’s going to happen when he heals up and starts BASE jumping again?

Maybe he’ll give up the sport for Mia.

Maybe—

Ha, right. Dream on, Sabrina.

I shake my head.

Don’t think about that. Just enjoy the quiet moments we have together. While we still have them.

Yes. Enjoy them.

Because I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t going to last forever. Despite my hope.

Limping, he carries her over to the crib and lowers her gently onto the mattress. I notice that he’s not relying upon the cane as much anymore. That’s both a good and a bad sign.

Good, because he’s healing.

Bad, because he’s healing.

He’ll be wingsuiting soon...

Don’t think about that.

But I can’t help it.

He pulls the soft blanket up around her, his large hand lingering for a moment on her back.

Then he straightens, turning back to me, a look of quiet wonder on his face. Like he can’t quite believe this is real.

Frankly, neither can I.

Wingsuiting...

We stand there in the quiet nursery, the baby monitor casting a faint green glow. The space between us feels charged again, but not with the frantic energy of last night. This is different. Softer.

More dangerous, maybe.

This shared vulnerability, the tentativeunderstanding born from revealing our respective childhood wounds… it feels like... well, like the landscape between us is changing, and opening up possibilities I’m terrified to acknowledge.

Maybe hewillgive up the sport. For us.

He takes a step toward me and reaches out, cupping my cheek. His thumb softly strokes my skin.

“Sabrina,” he whispers, his green eyes searching mine.

My breath catches when he says my name like that. Like a vow. A prayer.

All my walls feel like they’re dissolving.

Oh, hell.

This is how it starts, isn’t it?

The hope.

---