“My hands begin to shake. I feel my throat closing in, and all I want to do is run. Now that she’s pregnant, I fear I might hurt her and the baby, and it’s led to me keeping my distance.” Bartol worked his jaw. “She hates it, but I don’t know what to do.”
“That’s understandable. You’re immortal and strong, which means you have to be more careful right now.” The psychologist kept his tone even and kind. “But she needs you physically and emotionally, and you’re hardly giving her either of those things.”
“I protect her.”
Eli gave him a grim look. “Her friends could do that, but her mate should do far more.”
“How do I fix this?” Bartol asked, frustration in his voice. “Do I go to her now and beg forgiveness or wait?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself just yet. You’re not ready, or it wouldn’t have come to this. I doubt she’ll be in a receptive mood for you visiting anyway without first showing a few goodwill gestures.” The nephilim leaned forward in his seat. “I believe the best plan is to take this slowly.”
“I don’t have much time before the baby comes,” Bartol argued.
“You have enough if you follow my instructions closely, but you have to be committed for this to work.”
He swallowed. No matter what it took, he’d make it happen for Cori. “Just tell me.”
“Then here’s what you’re going to do…”
Bartol listened closely, surprised the psychologist’s idea sounded plausible.