Samantha shifts beside me, and I notice she’s been quiet. Too quiet. I turn to look at her properly and see exhaustion in her eyes. Dark circles. Tension in her shoulders.
“How are you holding up?” I ask.
“I’m fine.” The lie is obvious.
“Sam.”
She sighs and leans her head against my shoulder. “It’s been a lot. Robert leaving, you collapsing, everything with the baby. I feel like I’m waiting for the next disaster.”
“No more disasters,” I promise, even though I can’t guarantee it. “Robert’s gone. I’m on medication. Everything’s handled.”
She looks up at me. “What about Logan? What about the people Robert was working with? What if they come after you because of what I did?”
“They won’t,” Donovan says firmly. “Dad’s handling it. Trust him.”
She nods but doesn’t look convinced.
I pull her closer, ignoring the protest from my chest. “You’re stuck with us now. No getting rid of us, even if you wanted to.”
“I don’t want to.” Her voice is small. “That’s what scares me. I came here to destroy you, and now I can’t imagine leaving.”
“Good.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Because we’re not letting you go.”
We sit like that for a while. Samantha curled against my side, Donovan reviewing something on his tablet, Dad somewhere in his office handling business. It’s quiet and domestic in ways I never expected to want.
Later, after Donovan leaves to make dinner and Dad’s still working, Samantha shifts to face me properly. “I need to tell you something,” she says.
“Okay.”
“When you collapsed, I thought it was my fault.” Her eyes are wet. “All the stress I caused, the lies, the mess with Robert. I thought I killed you.”
“Sam, you didn’t?—”
“I know that now. But in the moment, I was so sure.” She wipes at her eyes. “And I realized that if you died, I’d never forgive myself. Not because of the revenge plan or any of that. But because I care about you. Really care. And the thought of losing you was worse than anything Robert could threaten me with.”
I cup her face in my hands, making her look at me. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m on medication now. Doctor’s orders. I’m following every rule because I want to be here for you and this baby and whatever chaos comes next.”
She laughs wetly. “You’re really going to follow the rules?”
“Shocking, I know.” I lean in and kiss her. Soft and gentle, nothing like the desperate encounters we’ve had before. This is different. Careful. Like she’s fragile and I’m trying not to break her.
She kisses me back, and her hands slide into my hair, pulling me closer. The kiss deepens, and I feel her shift, trying to climb into my lap.
I stop her with a hand on her hip. “Sam, wait.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. But the doctor said no strenuous activity for two weeks, and I’m pretty sure what you’re thinking about doing counts as strenuous.”
Her face flushes. “Oh. Right. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I was.” I kiss her again, quick and light. “Trust me, I want to. But I also want to be alive to do this properly when I’m cleared.”
She settles back against my side, and I feel her smile against my shoulder. “You’re really taking this seriously.”
“I really am.” I wrap my arm around her. “Turns out almost dying is a decent reality check.”
“Good.” She traces patterns on my chest through my shirt. “Because I need you around. All three of you. For a long time.”
