Her hand trembles against her belly, and I cover it with mine, pressing our palms together over the curve of our baby.
“I love you,” I whisper, the words tearing out like they’ve been trapped behind my ribs. “I love you so much it’s wrecking me, and if I have to spend every day proving it until you believe me again, I will. But I’m begging you, please come home.”
For a long moment, all I hear is the soft rasp of her breath, the rain tapping against the windows, the distant creak of Raven pacing in the kitchen.
Then her eyes close, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “Jase,” her voice is barely there. “I’m so tired.”
“I know.” My forehead presses against hers, my throat burning. “Rest, baby. I’ve got you.”
I do. Scooping her up into my arms. I carry her out to the truck while Raven hovers close, holding the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Monty follows, silent and grim, opening the passenger door while I ease her into the seat.
“She needs a doctor,” Monty says, and I nod in agreement. “Now.”
“I know,” I rasp, but my voice doesn’t sound like mine. I’m so fucking scared of losing her, of losing our baby, but I have to be strong for the both of them.
The drive to the community hospital is a blur, just the rhythmic rise and fall of her shallow breaths beside me reassuring me she’s alive, as she leans her head against the window. By the time we screech into the parking lot, my hands are shaking so badly I can barely unbuckle her seatbelt.
“Monty called,” Millie Dawson says as she meets me by the front door with Dr. Dawson trotting closely behind her.
“Bring her in,” Dr. Dawson says, leading us inside and into one of the hospital rooms. I set her down but refuse to let go, afraid if I do, she might slip away forever.
Minutes that pass feel like hours as Dr. Dawson examines her. Millie immediately hooks her up to an IV after rolling the ultrasound cart into the room.
“She’s dehydrated,” Dr. Dawson explains, scanning her chart as Millie takes her vitals. “Stressed and exhausted.” He runs the ultrasound wand over her belly and immediately a soft thud is heard.
I let out a breath, relieved to hear my baby’s heartbeat, and hold Monroe tighter.
“Monroe’s body’s working overtime, but the baby’s heartbeat is strong,” he says, reassuring us both. “We’ll monitor both of them closely. I have the necessary equipment, but if anythingworsens, we’ll have to transfer her to Colton County General.” I nod, sagging into the chair, every muscle in me going slack. “We’ll pray it won’t come to that,” he says when he sees my response to his worry.
He leaves us, and I reach for her hand where it rests over her belly. It’s warm now, and she stirs at my touch, her lashes fluttering open.
“Hospital?” she murmurs, trying to sit up, but I urge her back down.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Just for the night. You scared the hell out of me.”
Her lips tremble. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I know, but you did. You always do. Because I can’t lose you, Moonshine. I can’t lose you two.” She blinks up at me, her eyes bright red and swollen, but it’s like she’s all out of tears. I lay my head gently against her stomach, unable to take the sight of how frail and miserable she looks.
“Little Bear is okay?” she asks, swallowing back trying to wet her lips. I nod, and I see her body relax. “I’m not going anywhere,” she says, her fingers threading through my hair, and suddenly I can finally breathe again.
“Ithought I lost you,” I say as I help Monroe to the bed.
We’re back home after an overnight stay at the hospital, and I’m running on thirty-six hours of no sleep, but baby is good, mama’s good. All is slowly going back to normal.
“You didn’t, Jase,” she whispers, leaning forward to kiss me. I missed her so fucking much it hurts. Tasting her again, feeling her perfect lips against mine, makes me unravel in the best way.
I kiss her like she’s a prayer that’s been answered, and I need to memorize every inch of her just in case I lose her again.
I kneel before her on the bed, careful not to be too demanding. She’s still weak, and as much as I want to claim her as mine again, I can’t. Not yet.
However, the little noises she’s letting out are making it so damn hard. Her body melts into my hands as they slide down her hip, tracing over her like I need to feel her to believe she’s really here with me.
The weeks without her were fucking torture, and I never want to live it again.
“Jase, please, I need you,” she begs, and as much as I want to give in to her, I know we can’t. This can’t be the way we solve our problems. We had our first fight, and it may have been the one to nearly end us, but I won’t use sex as a coping mechanism to make it all right.
“Moonshine, we can’t,” I say, but her skin buzzes under my touch. Heat spreads through my cock as I ease her back onto the bed, pressing kisses down her throat, over her collarbone, finally lingering on her lips.
