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I couldn’t lose him.

Not now.

Not when I finally had him back.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I looked down at my phone and smiled.

Chloe had texted me when she got back to her apartment to let me know she was safe. Not just safe, either—she’d sent me a string of emojis that made me snort out loud. Smiley faces. Hearts. And at least two eggplants that I was ninety percent sure were supposed to mean penises.

God, I love this woman.

I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes for a second, letting the warmth of that simple fact settle into me. I wanted her back here. In our house. In our bed. Every night. I wanted to wake up with her hair in my face and fall asleep with her heartbeat under my palm.

We were close. So damn close.

And now we were going to do the stupidest thing in the world.

Fuck! I hate this.

I stood up and walked down the hall toward our bedroom, but my feet slowed when I reached the nursery door. I hadn’t planned on going in there. I didn’t usually. But tonight, something tugged at me—quiet, steady, insistent.

I pushed the door open.

The room was exactly the way we’d left it.

Soft yellow walls. Light green accents. Late afternoon sun shone through the blinds, casting a gentle glow across the space. The rocking chair sat where Chloe had placed it, angled just right for morning light. Right now it was in shadow. Draped over the back was the lemon-colored blanket she’d picked out months before we knew anything.

Before we knew she was a girl.

Chloe had bought everything neutral back then. Yellow and green and soft white. She’d said that way the colors would work for either a boy or a girl. Practical. Hopeful. Refusing to jinx it.

I walked over and brushed my fingers across the blanket.

The fabric was worn softer than it should’ve been, like Chloe had done exactly what I was doing now and had rubbed it between her hands a hundred times without realizing it. My fingers curled, and before I knew it, I was gripping it hard, knuckles white, chest tight.

I turned and looked at the empty crib.

“Daddy loves you, Kristen,” I whispered.

Somehow the words didn’t shatter me.

They didn’t drag me under.

Instead, something warm spread through my chest—slow and steady, like sunlight pushing through cloud cover. I shut my eyes and let go of the blanket, my hand relaxing as my breath evened out.

I stayed like that for a long moment.

And then I realized I was smiling.

Not the brittle kind. Not the forced kind.

A real one.

Huh.

I was standing in an empty nursery, smiling. Who would’ve guessed?