Wynter wraps her arms around herself protectively, shaking her head once like she’s trying to clear it. “You can’t do this because I’m carrying your baby,” she says softly.
The words hit like a punch to the chest because she really believes that’s all this is. “That’s not—”
“How do I know this is real?” she asks, her voice cracking slightly now. “How do I know you wouldn’t still hate me if I wasn’t pregnant?”
“I never hated you.”
“But you made me feel like you did.”
I rake a hand through my hair roughly, frustration clawing up my throat because she’s right. She’s completely fucking right. “I don’t know how to do this,” I admit quietly. Her eyes flicker at the confession. “I know how to protect people. Provide for them. Fix problems.” A humourless laugh leaves me. “But this?” I gesture helplessly between us. “You make me feel completely out of control.”
Something in her expression softens. “I’m scared to trust you,” she whispers.
I nod slowly because,fuck, me too. I inhale deeply, forcing the air slowly back out. “Okay,” I say quietly. “Then let me prove it to you.”
Wynter stays still, watching me carefully. “I’ll treat you the way I should have from the beginning.” The admission tastes bitter because it’s true. “No controlling everything. No talking over you. No deciding what’s best for you without asking.” Ihold her gaze steadily. “I’ll do this properly.” Something flickers across her face. “And if, after all of that, you still decide you don’t want this . . .” My chest tightens painfully around the words, but I force them out anyway. “Then I’ll step back.” Her brows lift slightly. “I’ll let you go.”
The thought feels like someone’s reached into my chest and wrapped a hand around my lungs.
“Really?” she asks softly.
I nod once. “One hundred percent.”
I drag a hand over the back of my neck before continuing, “And I’ll agree to whatever shared parenting arrangement you want. You set the boundaries. The schedule. Everything.”
For the first time since she walked into the office, a genuine smile pulls at her lips. “You really are serious,” she murmurs, almost like she’s trying to convince herself.
“I’ve never been more serious about anything.”
Her eyes search mine again, like she’s looking for the catch. Waiting for me to take the control back. When I don’t, some of the tension leaves her shoulders.
“All I ask is you give me a chance to prove myself,” I add.
She rolls her eyes, but the warmth is back now. I can see it. And Christ, I’d burn this entire city down just to keep that look on her face.
Her hand drifts unconsciously to her bump again, and my eyes follow the movement.
Ours.The thought hits differently now. We can do this together, as a team.A family.
Wynter catches me staring and shifts awkwardly. “What?”
I shake my head slowly, stepping closer again, only this time carefully. Giving her plenty of space to move away if she wants to.
“You rubbed your stomach earlier,” I say quietly. “When I was rubbing your feet.”
A faint blush creeps into her cheeks. “Okay . . .”
“I realised something.”
Her expression turns cautious again. “What?”
“That I’m already in love with both of you.”
The words leave the room completely still. And judging by the way Wynter’s breath catches, I’m not the only one affected by them.
“I want a family so badly,” I admit quietly, “but I don’t think I actually know what a real one looks like.” A weak laugh escapes me. “Not one that isn’t built on responsibility and survival.” Her expression softens further. “I want to learn, though,” I tell her honestly. “For you. For us.”
For a second, she just looks at me. Then slowly, carefully, she lifts her hand to my face. The contact nearly destroys me. Her palm rests against my cheek, warm and soft, and before I can stop myself, I lean into it slightly. My eyes closing for the briefest moment.