Chapter 0137 âJust... Why?â I managed, swallowing hard around the lump in my throat. âWhy would you go be with her when your wife was injured at home?â
He paused, a muscle ticking in his jaw before he answered. âIt was for Adam.â
âAdam?â
1 didnât want him to watch his mom go through that all on his own,â he said. âAnd I didnât trust Drake to show up. So I stayed with him here last night until his grandparents were able to come and take him back with them.â
All at once, it felt as though my insides fell out. The dented pillows, the comb, the hair....
Noah had slept here last night, but not for the reasons I had thought. He wasnât sleeping with Zoe. He was taking care of a scared little boy.
âOh,â was all I could manage.
There was a long silence after that, both of us unsure of what to say. Finally, reaching out, I touched his arm. âYouâd make a good dad,â I said softly âReally.â
Noahâs jaw clenched, his arm recoiling instinctively. Even I winced, I had hurt him. The last time we talked about parenthood, I had reflexively told him that I would never have children with him. But now, here I was, pregnant with a child he didnât even know about.
âNoah, I.â
I parted my lips, the words lingering right there on the tip of my tongue. Iâm pregnant, I wanted to tell him. Iâm pregnant with your baby.
Goddess, I wanted to tell him more than anything. That strange, lovesick part of me wanted him to know that I was going to have his baby, that he would scoop me up into my arms and twirl me around and kiss me deeply and tell me that everything would be okay.
But I couldnât tell him. Once again, I found myself unable to do it. Because, ultimately, that wouldnât ever be his child-not in the ways that mattered. Everything I had imagined was just a fantasy, nothing more. âAnyway,â he said before I could finish, pulling away, âIâm glad you ate. Itâs good to see you enjoy food-1 know youâve always enjoyed it, even when you donât want to allow yourself to.â
I couldnât help but blush at his words as I turned to head to bed. I supposed thad always loved food, ever since I could remember. In fact....
âHey,â I said suddenly, turning one last time to face him, âdo you remember when we were teenagers, and we stole those roasted quail eggs from my parentsâ kitchen?â My face took on a fond, distant look as l spoke, recalling that old memory. âMy parents were furlous, because the eggs were meant for guests. But the way the juice ran down our chins, the flavor... It was worth it.â
I could still remember it clear as day now: the two of us sneaking through the kitchens, stuffing roasted quail eggs into our pockets before the summer picnic. We ran from the angry chef until he eventually gave up, and we found a spot beneath a tree to feast on our spoils.
The summer breeze had caused the leaves to sway over our heads, the warm, sticky, gooey insides of the +25 BONUS eggs running down our chins and staining our shirts. We had laughed so much, and ate until our bellies. were full. And we had laughed even when we had been scolded by my parents.
When my eyes refocused on the present, however, I was met with nothing more than a confused look in Noahâs eyes. He shook his head, furrowing his brow.
âI donât know what youâre talking about, Hannah.â
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