Trees flew by the window, but Callie barely saw them. She barely saw anything. Her head was a mess, a million emotions competing against one another inside her, and none of them good.
Pregnant. She waspregnant. They should have been more careful. God, why hadn’t they been more careful?
Lock had tried to get her to talk to him, tell him how she felt, but she couldn’t speak. There was almost this desperate need inside her to keep her emotions locked away, as if that could somehow dull the fear of reliving the past.
She couldn’t go through that again. She’d barely survived the first time.
Lock’s hand rested on her leg, its warmth usually enough to calm her. Tonight, it wasn’t.
He was worried about her. He hadn’t said the words out loud. He’d said it with the deep frown etched between his brows. In the way he watched her so closely. Touched her with hesitation like he was scared she’d run.
And if she was completely honest…a part of herwantedto run. But this time, running wouldn’t be an escape.
Lock and the doctor had spoken about her past pregnancy loss. Phrases like “high risk” and “extra observation” had been thrown around. She’d tried to listen, but every second that passed had made the walls around her feel that bit closer. Like the room was closing in on her.
Callie was so in her own head that she didn’t even realize they’d arrived at Lock’s house until his thumb grazed her thigh, tugging her back to the present.
“Callie. Talk to me, honey.”
Lock wanted her to talk. But how was she supposed to articulate the pit in her belly? How was she supposed to put words to the fear and confusion and panic that swirled inside her?
“Callie—”
She turned toward him and he stilled. It was like one look at her and he saw everything. Every word she couldn’t get out. Every emotion she couldn’t convey.
He climbed out of the truck and moved around to her side, where he helped her out before setting a hand on the middle of her back and guiding her inside.
The second they stepped into his bedroom, her gaze shifted to the window, a shiver shaking her whole body.
There was the softest growl from Lock before he lifted her against his chest and carried her into the bathroom. She barely felt the chill of the bathroom counter beneath her thighs as he sat her down. Piece by piece, he helped her out of her clothes, his eyes never leaving hers.
His clothes dropped next, his bronzed skin on full display. Then he lifted her back into his arms and stepped into the shower. There was something about water and warmth and having the man she loved hold her that dulled some of the panic inside.
She tightened her arms around him and just let him hold her. Let the shower beat down on both of them. It almost felt like a circle of safety, a place where the grief of the past and the uncertainty of the future couldn’t penetrate.
His mouth went to her cheek, his lips brushing her skin before he whispered, “It will be okay.”
She wanted to latch on to his words and take them as truth, but he couldn’t promise her that. No one could.
She burrowed her head into his neck. “Just hold me.”
That was what she really needed. His warmth. His strength.Him.
It was still dark outside.Not even a sliver of light snuck through the gap in the curtains. What was it, four a.m.? Five?
They’d only gotten into bed at two. He hadn’t slept. Not a single minute. He’d thought Callie wouldn’t sleep either, but the second her head hit the pillow, she was out. Like the weight of the past twenty-four hours had left her without a scrap of energy.
His gaze lowered to the top of her head. To her torso, where it lay half over his.
Pregnant. She was pregnant…again.
It should have been an evening for celebration. They loved each other. They wanted to spend their lives together. But the weight of the past was heavy.
He’d wanted to talk to her about it. To hear exactly how she felt even if it was dark or ugly. But she hadn’t wanted to talk. He didn’t even think she’d been capable. And that fear on her face, in combination with her pale skin and the circles under her eyes…fuck, it had made him worry.
He stroked his thumb over her bare hip, wishing this moment could be different. Wishing, for the thousandth fucking time, that things had been different two years ago.
He lowered his mouth and kissed the top of her head.
