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I leave my car and walk. I don’t know where I’m going, but I need to move. Time passes as I wander the streets of the loop, all the while, crying. Do I tell Bennett? Is this something I can hide from him? If he knew, he’d assume it was his. What if it is? God, I can’t have him in my life. But could I kill him? The father of our baby?

Yes. I could. I’d have to because the thought of having to share this with him makes me sick to my stomach. The thought of having to look at his face, the thought of giving him a baby, giving him happiness and joy, it’s all sickening.

I desperately need someone to help me. To come and hold me, tell me it’s going to be okay. Someone to take care of me, hold my hand, and take away all my anguish. I’m sick of always feeling so alone.

I step off the curb and start crossing the street when I hear a horn blasting. I startle and jerk my head around to see through my blurred vision, a car, heading straight towards me, and I freeze.

“NINA!” a man’s voice screams in a panic.

I close my eyes, more tears falling down my cheeks when something crashes into me. I’m no longer on my feet, I’m being carried, and when I finally touch the ground, I know I’m safe by the smell.

Declan.

“Are you okay?” he asks as I open my eyes to look up at him and then at my surroundings. I’m in the lobby of his hotel.

“What happened?” I whisper as I look out of the glass doors to see the street, busy with cars.

“I was in my office when I happened to see you walking. I went outside to catch you when you stepped out into oncoming traffic. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I don’t . . .” my voice trembles, and then, like a porcelain doll falling to its death, I shatter. Falling into his arms, the sobs begin ripping out of me.

He quickly scoops me off my feet, cradling me in his arms, as he rushes me out of the lobby and into the elevator. He doesn’t say anything as I cry against him with my arms clinging around his neck. He holds me like a child and it comforts me in a way only he can do, whispering, “Shhh, baby. I’ve got you,” softly in my ear.

The elevator opens and he carries me into his penthouse room and sets me down on the couch as he crouches down in front of me. When I drop my head into my hands, he pulls them away, and I can’t stop the tears from falling as I look down at him. His face is covered in worry and I know there’s no way I could keep this from him because I need him so badly right now. He’s the one I want reassuring me. He’s the only one I want—always. So when he asks, “Baby, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me,” I don’t hesitate for a single moment when I tell him, “I’m pregnant.”

I watch as his face falls in a painful expression that breaks my heart. His eyes close, forehead creased in agony when he pleads, “Please tell me it isn’t his.” The crack in his voice matches the one in my heart, and I give him what I know he wants, what I want, what I wish for—the fairytale that never will be—saying, “It isn’t his.”

His eyes open and tears fall. “How do you know?”

“Because I had just started sleeping with you and had backed away from Bennett that month. He was out of town a lot, so he didn’t question my avoidance.” My words, complete lies.

“But I thought you couldn’t get pregnant?”

“I know,” I cry out. “This was never supposed to happen. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did, and I’m so scared.”

“Don’t cry,” he breathes as he moves to sit next to me on the couch and pulls me into his arms. “When did you find out?”

“Just now. I just left the doctor’s office. That’s why I was walking around. I just needed to walk.”

“You scared the shit out of me. That car almost hit you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I need you to talk to me. Explain how this happened.”

I lean back, pulling away from his hold and let out a heavy breath before telling him, “I’ve been in a lot of pain the past few days, so I went to see my doctor. I had been testing out a hormone therapy to help with the pain, but had to stop. The doctor told me the pain is showing up because it takes a while for the hormones to leave the system.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having pains?” he questions.

“Because you worry easily, and I knew it was probably nothing more than what I’ve always dealt with.”

“I worry because I love you. I want to know what’s going on with you. I don’t want you keeping anything from me,” he says, facing me and taking my hands in his, resting them on his lap. “So what did the doctor say?”

“Nothing. She took a look at my labs and that’s when she told me I was pregnant.” My voice falters on that last word as I begin to cry again.

Declan takes my face in his hands and assures me, “It’s going to be okay. I know you’re scared right now, but I’m not going anywhere.”

“She told me that the baby probably wouldn’t make it through the pregnancy though.”

“Why?”

“Because I have too many lesions. She said they would keep a close eye on me. I have another appointment in two weeks.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You can’t, Declan,” I tell him. “Bennett is the one that found me this doctor. She knows he’s my husband.”

He grinds his teeth, causing his jaw to flex before hissing his words, “That’s my fucking baby, right?”

“Yes.”

“Did you tell him you’re pregnant?”

“No,” I respond, and then drop my head, admitting, “I’m scared, Declan. I’m scared for him to know.” I look up, trying to contain the new slew of tears that threaten when I say, “I can’t tell him. He can’t know.”

“He’s going to find out, but you’re not telling him without me by your side,” he says, and the reality of this situation is starting to really hit me. “I know you’re scared, but you’re going to have to leave him.”

“Declan—”

“You’re leaving him,” he demands.

“Just give me a little time.”

“Fuck, Nina. All I’ve been doing is giving you time.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but it isn’t that easy. I’ll leave him; I will,” I say, trying to convince him, but I can no longer distinguish between truth and lies. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I’m just panicking at this point when all I really want to do is run away with Declan. For us to go to Scotland, have a baby, and leave this nightmare of a life behind.

“I don’t want him fucking touching you anymore, do you understand me? You have my baby inside of you now. That fucker’s not going to touch you,” he bites with gravel in his voice and I don’t even flinch when I agree. “Did he leave yet?”

“Late last night,” I tell him. “He’s gone for the rest of this week.”

He nods his head, and I let my body slack into his, resting the top of my head to his chest. His hands come around the back of my neck and into my hair as I mumble, “I really am scared, Declan.”

“I know, darling. I’m going to take care of you though,” he says, and when I draw back and lift my head, he places his hand on my flat stomach, adding, “I’m going to take care of both of you.”

His words make me smile. I run my hand over his, and I want to believe with everything I have that this baby is his.

“I heard its heartbeat,” I murmur and his voice is barely an audible whisper when he asks, “You did?”

“Yeah. It’s fast,” I tell him. “They gave me a picture too.”

I reach over to my purse and pull out the marshmallow photo and hand it to Declan. He stares down at it, and I watch his eyes gloss over in tears. He doesn’t try to hide his emotions as he gets lost in the image.

“I didn’t think it would look this real, with arms and legs,” he chokes out around his tears.

“I’m almost ten weeks, so we missed the stage of the baby looking like a blob,” I say as I let go of a sad laugh.

“Ten weeks?”

“I’m due in October,” I tell him, and he finally looks up from the photo. His cheeks are damp, and I move to my knees, cup my hands along his jaw, and in the same loving way he does with me, I gently lick his tears away.