“When I found out I was pregnant with Frankie, he was out of town. I called him. He must have hit the speaker or something instead of hanging up. I heard them.” I can still hear the giggling and the soft promises. “I was devastated and so angry. I was filled with rage and disgust. Mostly at myself for believing him.”
I curl my knees to my chest. “I knew then I could either stay and turn bitter and angry or leave and hopefully show these two what love is supposed to look like. I want so much more for them than to be surrounded by anger and betrayal.” Fire consumes my throat. “He doesn’t want them.” It hurts so damn bad to say it. “He only wants to appear like the family man he’s convinced the network bigwigs he is.”
I inhale as the nauseating reality rises again.
He brushes the hair off my neck. “He can’t do that, can he?”
“What?”
“Get custody of them?” Slade sounds skeptical, but I know better.
“I don’t know. It could only be a threat, and once he’s there, he’ll disappear into the city, doing what he does best.” I exhale, my tense body succumbing to exhaustion. “But I don’t have the resources or the status to fight him.” That’s the only truth I know.
Slade’s hand spreads across my back. I press my eyes closed, wanting to fall back asleep and wake up to find this only a nightmare.
I listen toBlueyand Frankie’s soft snores and melt into Slade’s safe warmth.
“Just get some rest. Everything will be ok. We’ll figure it out.”
I hear his soft promise as I drift back to sleep, desperate to believe him.
______
Strong arms lift me into the air, surrounding me with the spicy scent of pine and cedar. I snuggle into his neck, wanting his gentle comfort to remain, always.
“What are you doing?” I mumble as he takes a few steps.
“You need a good night’s sleep.”
He twists to carry me down the hall, and I jerk awake.
“Stop.” I hold out my hand to grab the wall.
He halts, cradling me in his arms. “You’re burning up again. You need more Ibuprofen and to go to bed, Sarah.” It’s a command.
“Ok,” I say, without arguing, hoping he’ll put me down, but reeaally not wanting him to. I try to wiggle out, but he doesn’t budge.
He takes two more steps toward my room.
“Stop,” I say again with more force, and he does.
Even in the dark, I see his brows furrow.
“Put me down. Please,” I say softly, knowing this is ridiculous. But also, it’s not. Miles’s low jab strikes me in the gut all over again.
Slade carefully releases my legs but keeps his arm around me until I’m fully grounded.
I brush my hair out of my face, unable to look at him. “Thank you for staying. I’m sorry, you can’t . . .”
“Sarah, I wasn’t—”
I hold up my hand. “I know you weren’t. I just . . .” I just what? I don’t want you in my room because you will judge me before I have a chance to explain.
I shiver, swaying a little, and his arms steady me.
I press my eyes closed, wanting to fall back into him. Maybe he’d just stand here and let me sleep against him like a deeply rooted tree.
My aching body sags. “Thank you for sitting with me and the kids.”
