Escalation - Tessa Teevan Page 0,16

I wanted to get away from Rafe.

And then I see the anguish in his eyes. My fury, much to my chagrin, is waning even though I don’t want it to.

The past twelve hours have been terrible enough for me, but I was unconscious for most of them. He, on the other hand, was forced to wait through them. And now that I’m finally awake, all he wants is to comfort me. To hold me. To have tangible proof that I’m really here and okay. Isn’t that what I wanted from my mother in my dream? I should understand. I should give in, even it’s just for now, for these few hours until we’re home.

I almost laugh at the word.

Home.

There is no home for me. I haven’t experienced home in so long, and while I already planned on moving in with Rafe, it doesn’t feel the same anymore.

Will it ever?

As my hand rests on my belly, I have a flash of fear. What kind of world am I bringing this child into? How can I push Rafe away when all I want to do is pull him close?

Sleep. It’s what I need to clear my head, and then Rafe and I can have a long-overdue conversation. Once the exhaustion and confusion have been eliminated, hopefully, we can move on.

Hopefully, he can repair the damage he’s done to my trust in him.

Hopefully, we can be a family.

God, how can I even want that right now? Want him? I don’t know the answers, but once I do, I hope they don’t push us further apart.

I can’t sit in her hospital room any longer. Not with her little quips. Not with her pained expressions. The confliction on her face was apparent. She wanted to reach out to me. She also wanted to keep me away.

For a few moments, I believed that everything was okay. That she understood I hadn’t tried to hurt her. Hadn’t tried to purposely deceive her. It’s just my job, and I promised I’d tell her everything once we were away from this place and finally alone.

I thought she got it. And then, when she uttered those two words, which were followed by the sound of our unborn child’s heartbeat, I thought we were moving past it already.

What dumbass, wishful thinking that was.

It was stupid, I know. Brie has so many questions, but I need her to ask only one. The one question I can answer openly and honestly without a moment’s hesitation.

But she hasn’t.

I get it. I really do. And Brie wouldn’t be the woman I know she is if she rolled over and accepted me—us—without having reservations. Still, now that we know about the baby, I want to forget all the other bullshit. I never really put any thought into having kids, but the moment Brie uttered those words, my whole world changed. In an instant, I wanted nothing more than to be the father of Brie’s child. To give her a family—one I would love and protect until my dying breath. My primal, protective urges have increased tenfold, and the longer we sit in this hospital, the more on edge I become. There’s so much that needs to be done, so many stones left to unturned, and it’s killing me not to be out there investigating. Yet I can’t leave her.

I can’t leave them.

So, when she doesn't meet my eyes with hers, anger simmers just below the surface. And when she tells me that she’s thinking, I nearly lose my cool. As I close my eyes, I take deep breaths to calm my nerves. It only serves as a reminder of willing Brie to do the same when I almost fucking lost her.

Correction.

I didn’t almost lose only her. I almost lost my fucking child, too.

The thought is more than I can bear. Suddenly, this room’s too small, and I need a break from her back-and-forth.

I snap my eyes open to find her watching me, her expression unreadable. I can’t fucking take it. So I push off the wall, not even looking at her as I walk towards the door.

“I’m going to see what’s taking them so long.”

Her silence only fuels my fury, and I need to get out of here before I blow up. Just as I reach the door, she stops me.

“Rafe,” she says almost so quietly that I don’t hear her.

But I do. Oh God, I fucking do.

I pause with my hand on the doorknob, waiting for her to continue.

Ask the damn question.

But she doesn’t. Whatever