I wipe at my face. “What does that mean?”
“It means we’ll give you some fluids and have you rest and monitor you to see how they go. We do have medicine we can give you, but the contractions aren’t strong and they’re not impacting the babies, so I’d like to hold off on them for now. I’m going to have an orthopedic doctor come and examine your ankle.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
“We’ll give you some privacy until he comes down, but we’re going to put this monitor on your belly so we can watch and see if the contractions stop on their own.”
I nod and they put two straps around my belly. Two probes on the first strap to monitor the babies’ heart rates, and one to track my contractions.
Then they all leave the room and it’s just me and Sebastian.
“I’m sorry.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me?” He’s incredulous, though I can’t imagine why. “I didn’t mean it, Bellamy. Christ.” He rakes his hands through his hair. “My fucking pregnant wife fell.”
“You mean the pregnant wife you wish you didn’t have?”
He curses in Latin again and slowly moves closer to me. “I didn’t mean that,” he promises, his tone softening. “I feel…” He grunts. “Like a thief. Like a monster. An evil man who knew better but brought you into his life anyway. I selfishly wanted you and I didn’t stop myself. I fell in love, and I don’t regret a moment of our time together, and I sure as hell don’t regret you being my wife. But Ihatethat I could be the reason you come to any harm.”
“You’re not the reason. I fell.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever believe that, especially with you sitting here in a hospital with monitors on your stomach.” He drops down onto the stool the doctor was just sitting in. “I wouldn’t make it if I lost you or the twins. I wouldn’t survive it and I’m afraid. It’s the same fear that plagued me after Nora’s helicopter went down and I didn’t know what else to do to protect my children other than shut us away from the world. From the moment I put my engagement ring on your finger, it’s been one thing after another for you. Samil, and your father, and dealing with the press. Now this. I love you and I’m hurting you and I don’t know how to stop it.”
“If I weren’t pregnant, would you divorce me?”
He’s quiet for a beat and my heart rate picks up. “I’d do anything to keep you safe and protected, but I also can’t imagine waking up without you beside me. And maybe that’s what scares me most. I want to tell you to run from me, but I’m too selfish to ever make the words come out.”
“I don’t need to run. The three of us are just fine.”
He cups my jaw and stares into my eyes. “Promise me you’ll stay that way,” he implores, his eyes searching mine.
More tears track down my cheeks. “I promise.”
He shakes his head as if I’m not getting it. As if it’s already too late for me and for us, and a frizzle of fear strikes at my heart. But what can I do? I can’t live in fear. I can’t lock myself in a room or a palace and shut out the world. It’s just not who I am.
He doesn’t say it, but I can feel the temptation to set me free there inside of him.
And it scares me.
“I want us to get a nanny,” he says. “I know you’re reluctant,but you’re going to have to take it easy, at least for a while, and I want you to have the extra help.”
“I’m mad at you.”
“You have every right to be.”
“Not because of the curse, asshole, but because of what you said.”
“I know.”
“You love me, but you regret me.”
“It’s impossible to regret you when you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“The next time you say something like that, I’m not sure my heart will forgive you,” I warn.
His head falls, his forehead lands on my chest, and his arms wrap around my shoulders. He doesn’t say anything else, and my heart hiccups in my chest. I feel the power of his words. Of what he’s saying and what he’s not. He’s not promising me he won’t say them again because I believe part of him wants to push me away to save me from him.
