He inhales sharply, a gasp escaping as he trails his hand over his face. “But––”
“No, Drifter, please don’t push me on this because I’ve made up my mind. But we are going to be parents, and despite how I feel, we need to be respectful of each other and bring this child up together.”
He stares at me for a long minute, a range of emotions passing over his face, then he gives a slight nod. “Yep, of course. Whatever you want, Hell.” His voice breaks slightly, and he adds, “I messed up. I get it. I do. I broke your heart, and I’m going to be paying for that the rest of my life. Just know I’d give anything to turn back the clock,” he whispers.
“But you can’t.” I feel my voice about to break with emotion, so I pause, not wanting him to see even a slight chink in my armour. “Co-parenting is important for our child. I want to make that work. I have a scan coming up. Would you like to come too?”
He nods, his eyes almost shining with tears. “Of course,” he says without hesitation. “Thank you.” His voice is barely audible, and I can see he’s about to crack.
The only other time I’ve seen him cry was at his dad’s funeral. “Hell, I’m sorry.” It’s the final words before he gets to his feet and rushes inside.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
DRIFTER
Iknock gently on Hell’s bedroom door. The room once belonged to us both, but now, I’m out here like a damn stranger. It’s just another reminder of what we had.What I lost.
There’s no answer, so I poke my head round the door in search of her. The room is empty, and my frown deepens.
“Hell?” I call out.
I’m met with the sound of retching and I follow it into the en suite where I find her curled around the toilet bowl, emptying the contents of her stomach.
I kneel beside her, sweeping her hair back into my hand whilst using the other to gently stroke her back. She doesn’t push me away, so I take the time to just be here with her.
Eventually, she lays her arm along the toilet seat and drops her forehead against it, breathing deeply.
“It’s okay,” I whisper softly, continuing to rub her back.
“Ugh, how can I still be vomiting when I haven’t even eaten this morning?” she complains.
She wretches again, her entire body jerking as she scrambles to her knees and vomits into the bowl.
“Do you need me to call the doctor?” I ask.
“No,” she mumbles between gasps.
“Water?” I ask, not quite sure what the fuck I should be doing right now. She nods, and I grab the empty bottle sitting on the vanity unit and fill it with water. I kneel back down beside her, offering her the bottle, and she takes it with shaky hands.
“Sorry,” she murmurs, taking a sip.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” I reply, tucking her hair behind her ear without thinking about it. I pull my hand away, offering a small smile. “Sorry.”
Things had been good over the recent weeks since the barbeque, and the last thing I want is to jeopardise that by overstepping. I’m careful not to push, even though I spend most nights sitting on the floor right outside this room, listening to her sleep, just in case she needs me.
“Can I get you anything else?” I ask, getting to my feet.
She shakes her head but offers me her hand so I can help her up. The swell of her stomach is obvious now, and it feels like it’s growing each day.
Our fingers are still entwined, and I realise too late that I’m just staring. I release her immediately, wondering if she still feels the spark dancing between us like I do.
She smooths her hands over her bump, avoiding my eyes.
I clear my throat. “I’ve brought the car around front,” I tell her, ignoring how my body craves to touch her again. “I’ll wait outside.”
I head downstairs, taking deep breaths to calm the anxiety I feel. The scan we’re about to head to is exciting yet scary, because Hell confessed she’s had to have a few extra ones to monitor the baby’s growth. It’s measuring small, but she assuresme the doctors have told her everything looks normal and the scans are purely for monitoring purposes.
And her letting me attend my first one is a win. I can’t fuck it up by being a nervous wreck.
