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“Right, and with maternity leave soon, you don’t want to have to do it then.” He gives a winning smile.

My heart jolts, and it takes everything in me to keep the pain from showing on my face. Anxiety is stealing my breath away more every day, both from not being pregnant and from, well… Cedrick.

Cedrick holds me for a few more moments as the coffee sputters out. Then he kisses me on the head and returns to his seat.

“I don’t know how soon the maternity leave is going to be,” I reply softly. “But still, I need to analyze the data. I don’t want it to get stale or, worse, overlook any aspect of the study.”

When I turn back, coffee in hand, Cedrick is studying me. His eyebrows are scrunched together.

“I have to pop into the headquarter office today myself.” That explains the suit. “There’s a funding meeting I can’t miss, and I need to check on some of the field offices to consult. I wish I could stay here with you, though.”

I smile, thinking of the little boy he told me about in Sri Lanka who he’s been treating in consultation with his field team. The more I get to know Cedrick, grown-up Cedrick, the more I realize what an amazing man he is. And therein lies the problem.

I’m getting too attached to him. It’s becoming more than what it’s supposed to be. This isn’t part of the deal, and it isn’t fair to him.

I shake my head lightly, resolving not to think about that particular issue right now.

“Oh, that’s okay. Like I said, I need to do some work. Could I use your home office?”

Cedrick smiles. “It’s your home office, too, now. What’s mine is yours. That’s how marriage works.”

A thread of pleasure streaks through me, and I try not to overanalyze it.

He stands again and kisses me quickly, then grabs his bag.

“I’d better go or I’ll be late. Will you meet me for lunch?”

I nod, and he leaves with another smile on his face.

I sag back against the kitchen counter, hopelessness filling me. I’m falling for this man more and more every day, and I’m terrified of what it means. He made it very clear in the beginning that we were only committing to a year, and I have no idea if he’ll want to play this game for longer.

And I don’t know what I’m going to do when our year is up.

I finish my coffee and go back upstairs to shower and get dressed. I stand in front of the mirror, brushing my damp hair. My eyes flit down to the trashcan and a pang of longing hits me. I close my eyes, wishing for the millionth time that my mom were still here.

I place a hand on my empty stomach.

“What am I doing, Mom?” I imagine she’s standing here with me. “I remember you always liked him so much when we were kids. Now he’s so thoughtful and kind. He treats me like a princess.”

I laugh when I realize I am, in fact, a princess. “What would you think of that, Mom?” She respected King Francis so much. I think she would be thrilled, although she never stopped worrying about me. Even when she was sick, she worried about me more than I worried about her.

My thoughts keep dwelling on Cedrick as I set myself up in his office – or ours, as he urged me to think of it.

I study a framed picture of him and his brothers on his desk, my gaze repeatedly returning to his handsome face. His brothers are all handsome as well, but there’s something about Cedrick that has ensnared me since I was a little girl.

After I power up my laptop, I’m quickly consumed in my work until I realize it’s already midday. I check my phone, seeing that Cedrick has sent a location for lunch.

When I arrive at the café, Cedrick is there. He jumps up to pull out my chair for me. When we’re both seated, the waiter brings a coffee for him and a mug of their signature cinnamon hot chocolate for me. I look at him in surprise.

He smirks. “I remember you mentioning that you’d like to try it.”

How does he remember such a small detail when even I don’t remember?

“How’s the research going?”

I delve into a detailed explanation of my findings, only briefly interrupted by the waiter taking our orders.

Cedrick listens intently, nodding at the right moments and asking well thought-out questions. He catches my quizzical look at one of his more detailed questions and smiles sheepishly.

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