I glanced around the quaint room. We were standing in the kitchenette to the right of the entrance. I could see the bed from where I stood since there wasn’t a door.
Atticus opened the small cooler. “Are you hungry or thirsty?”
“I’d love a glass of chardonnay, but that’s off the menu. Is there juice?”
He reached inside and then handed me an individual carton of apple juice. After punching the straw into the hole, I sipped the refreshing beverage while Atticus entered the living area ahead. The grey sectional and round pink rug were all Melody’s doing.
“This is a cozy room,” he said. “You have everything you need without all the walking.”
I sat facing the large television mounted to the center wall. “They built it like a cabin, only with a divider wall between the living area and the bedroom. Did you see the bathtub? It’s nice.”
Atticus switched on the lamp in the corner by the TV. “I prefer the shower.”
“Being in heat is painful, so a hot bath helps.”
The blanket slipped off my right shoulder.
“Here, allow me.” Atticus helped me stand so he could unravel the blanket. Once I sat again, he covered my lap. “You shouldn’t be out this late—not without an escort.”
“It’s our territory, and we guard it well. If there’s one place I never want to be afraid, it’s in my own home. Is everything comfortable out here? Do you need anything?”
“I’m a man of few needs, but I appreciate the fruits.” He sat to my right and angled his body to face me. “I haven’t seen you all day. When I came home at dinner, you’d already gone to bed.”
“I was tired but couldn’t sleep. That’s a running theme lately.” After slurping the remaining juice, I handed the empty carton to Atticus, who set it on the floor.
“I couldn’t wait to get back and see you,” he said. “The club was busy tonight, but I couldn’t stop thinking about where we left things. How have you been feeling?”
“Bloated. Tired.”
With the crook of his finger, he turned my chin to face him. “No, how are you emotionally? You’ve been through a lot.”
“I need to know what this is between us. I’m scared.”
“Of what?” His brow furrowed. “Me?”
“Well, yes. Your strength. Someone reminded me that you could accidentally hurt the baby.”
He shook his head. “Never. The younger ones don’t know their own strength, but I’m ancient. I’ve had centuries to learn control. That’s why I can punch a man without shattering his skull or grip your hand without crushing bones. I know my own strength, but more importantly, I know how to control my emotions. If it would give you any comfort, I’ll carry around an egg for the next five months and show you I won’t break it.”
I chuckled. “That would smell terrible.”
“Is that all you’re worried about? You’re not yourself tonight.” When he held my hand, my walls crumbled.
Tears blurred my vision. “I’m just so scared of making the wrong choice. I’m worried about being a disappointment to this baby. What if it hates me?”
The admission embarrassed me, and I couldn’t stop crying.
Atticus wiped away my tears. “Babies love unconditionally. Anyone would be lucky to have a mother like you.”
“I’ve never had unconditional love. Don’t you see? That’s why I have so much to lose.”
Atticus pulled the blanket higher and wrapped his arm around me while I had an emotional breakdown. I cried against his shirt while he caressed my hair.
“Why did you really come out here?” he asked.
“I crave being near you. Seems silly, doesn’t it? I didn’t even realize it until you were gone all day. Especially after…”
“After what?” He drew back.
