Page 3 of Open Net

“Are you going to tell us we can’t drive anymore? Is that another restricted activity?” Olli’s mocking earned him a glare.

“Maybe,” Coach said. “Keep pushing and you’ll find out.”

Once the guys had talked to everyone and nerves were settled, we walked back to our car. “Mind if you give us a ride?” Hartman asked, as he was getting in the backseat.

Kendall rolled her eyes. “You could have waited for Olli to say yes.”

“He’d never tell me no.” Hartman said confidently.

I turned around. “Of course, we would never tell you no, but maybe you should stick with Uber for a little while.”

Hartman glared at me. “What are you saying?”

I smiled. “That your car is going to be in the shop for a while.”

“You’re not commenting on my driving?”

I shook my head. “I’d never.”

Kendall scoffed. “You’re walking everywhere from now on. You live close enough to everything you need.”

“No way. I can’t be in public that much.” Hartman said with a shudder. “I’ll get hounded.”

Kendall rolled her eyes. “You’re not that big a deal. No one cares about you at the cafe anymore.”

He blew out a breath and I laughed and turned back around. Olli and I dropped the two of them off at his building and I finally relaxed.

My husband was fine. I took his hand and squeezed. “You scared me.”

“I’m so sorry, Emma. It all happened so fast. I had the paramedics call you, but I thought they would tell you we weren’t hurt.”

“All I was told was that you were in an accident and on your way to the hospital.”

He squeezed my hand before raising it to his lips. “I’m sorry, honey.”

I leaned across the center consul and rested my head on his shoulder. I was grateful it was late enough that there were only a few cars on the road. I wanted to get home and lock us in where nothing bad could happen.

I couldn’t let myself think about what would happen if the accident was more serious. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. I was so grateful I didn’t have to worry about that.

When we pulled into our driveway my stomach began to unclench. We were home. Safe. Together.

“Let’s get you inside and put your feet up.” He said as he turned off the car.

I glanced down at my ankles which were almost double their normal size. “Yes please.”

Flying and stress weren’t exactly ideal while being pregnant and my body was visably protesting.

I followed him into the house, letting him carry our bags upstairs while I collapsed on the couch.

“Here’s some water,” he said, handing me a glass, “and a pickle.”

I smiled up at him and accepted his offerings. “Thank you.” I inspected the pickle and bit my lip. Before I could ask, a jar of peanut butter and a spoon appeared. I laughed and took them. “You’re the best.”

He laughed and sat across from me. “I thought these cravings were supposed to die down.”

I shrugged. “Every pregnancy is different.”

“Lucky you.” He laid back and turned on the TV, immediately turning to SportsCenter. Normally I’d protest, but he’d gone a week without ESPN, and I was content with my snack.