I lasted exactly four nights.
Four nights of sleeping in his bed, of waking with his hand splayed over the tiny curve that had only just begun to show, of letting him slide into me slow and deep until we both shook apart. Four nights of pretending this was just biology, just convenience, just two adults handling an accident with mind-blowing sex.
On the fifth night I packed a bag while he was in the shower.
I told myself I needed space. I told myself I was protecting the baby from whatever storm Theo carried in his blood. I told myself I was still the girl who never needed anyone.
I lied.
I made it as far as the private elevator before the doors slid open and he stood there, hair dripping, towel low on his hips, eyes wild.
He took one look at the duffel on my shoulder and something inside him cracked wide open.
"You're leaving," he said. Not a question. A wound.
I opened my mouth to explain, to say it wasn't him, it was me, all the pathetic clichés. Nothing came out.
He stepped forward slowly, like I was a spooked animal. Water still traced down his chest, over the scar I had kissed a hundred times in the dark.
"Nora." My name broke in his throat. "Please."
I had never heard him beg. Not once. Not even when I had him on the edge for an hour, teasing, denying, making him swear he'd do anything if I just let him come inside me again.
I dropped the bag.
He crossed the distance in three strides and crushed me to him so hard I couldn't breathe. His arms shook. His face buried in my hair.
"Don't," he rasped against my neck. "Don't do this to me. I can't... I won't survive it."
Tears burned sudden and hot. I clutched the back of his neck.
"I'm scared," I whispered. The truth tore out of me raw. "I'm so fucking scared you'll wake up one day and realize this was a mistake. That I trapped you. That I'm just the girl who got knocked up in a hotel bar and you'll hate me for it."
He pulled back just enough to cup my face. His eyes were red.
"Listen to me." His voice shook with something ancient and terrified. "I have spent thirty-four years making sure no one ever had the power to destroy me. And then you looked up at me that night, legs spread, begging me to fill you, and I handed you every piece of me without a fight. You own me, Nora. You and this baby. There is no waking up from that."
A sob broke free from my chest.
He kissed me like he was drowning, like I was air, like I was the only thing tethering him to the earth. The towel fell. My clothes followed. He lifted me against the elevator wall, my legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.
"I need to feel you," he said against my lips, voice cracking. "Need to know you're still mine."
I reached between us, guided him to my entrance, already soaked for him. Always soaked for him.
"Then take me," I breathed. "Fill me so full I can't ever leave."
He thrust in hard and deep, no barrier, no hesitation. I cried out at how perfectly he stretched me, how my body opened for him like it had been waiting its whole life.
He fucked me against the mirrored wall, slow and brutal, every stroke a vow.
"Feel that?" he growled, grinding deep. "That's me inside you. That's me marking the mother of my child. You think I'll ever let you go?"
I shook my head, tears streaming.
"Never," he promised, and slammed home again.
I came with his name on my lips, clenching around him so hard he groaned like he was dying. He followed instantly, hips jerking as he spilled hot and thick, flooding me until it dripped down my thighs and onto the marble floor.
He didn't pull out.
He carried me back to bed still buried inside me, laid me down gently, and stayed locked deep while we both trembled.
"I'm sorry," I whispered against his throat.
He kissed my temple, my cheeks, the tears still falling.
"Don't you dare apologize for being afraid," he said fiercely. "Just don't leave. Whatever comes, we face it together. Promise me."
I nodded, throat too tight for words.
He rolled us so I straddled him, still joined, still full of him.
"Say it," he demanded softly.
"I'm not going anywhere," I said, voice breaking. "I'm yours."
He closed his eyes like I had just handed him salvation.
Then he pulled my hips down hard and made me ride him slow, made me take every drop again while he whispered mine, mine, mine against my skin until the sun came up.
I never packed another bag.