Page 49 of Please Open Me
I’d made him look first because I couldn’t. His hands had shaken. But the moment he saw the result, his face lit up. He grinned so wide it split him in half. Then he spun me around, laughing, crying, kissing every inch of my face.
He started talking about names. About telling Sebastian. About how he hoped for a boy this time. That way, he’d have two of each.
Cameron had always wanted four kids. And for a second, it felt like he believed the universe had finally decided to be kind.
But me?
I was frozen. Trapped in my own head with one thought I couldn’t shake:
I didn’t feel what he felt.
“When I was buying the tests, I didn’t think I’d be happy either,” he admitted. “And I wasn’t. Not really. Not until I saw it. But, also didn’t know you weren’t happy.”
“I don’t know if I’m happy or not,” I snapped, then remembered Rosie. I lowered my voice. “Everything hurts. My boobs haven’t stopped leaking since last year.”
Cameron nodded, waiting.
“I’m not ready,” I whispered. “Not even close. I barely got my body back. I’m still healing. Cam, I almostdied.”
My voice cracked again, and this time I didn’t hide it.
“But I love Rosie more than breathing. I love being her mom. And Iknowone day I’ll want another one. So why does this feel so... wrong?”
“Because it’s not just about wanting a baby,” he said gently. “It’s about timing. About choice. And this doesn’t feel like yours.”
I wiped my eyes with the heel of my hand.
“We don’t gotta tell anyone yet,” he said. “Not until you’re ready. One step at a time.”
I nodded again. Slower this time.
“Right now,” he murmured, “you’re hungry. So let’s start there.”
He sat up and grabbed my phone off the nightstand.
“It’s midnight,” he muttered, scrolling. “But if you’re craving—”
I shook my head quickly.
“If you want a burger,” he persisted, giving me a look, “I’ll go get it.”
And knowing Cam? He meant it. Anything I wanted, I’d get.
But I also needed to prove to myself I had some kind of control.
If I told him that, he’d worry. So instead, I kissed his cheek and slipped out of bed.
“There has to be something upstairs. Just a small snack. Then I’ll sleep.”
“You sure?”
I nodded. Told him to go back to sleep.
He didn’t argue, just told me to make sure I got enough, like he’d know if I didn’t.
The carpet was soft underfoot as I crept through the basement and up the stairs. The house should’ve been quiet; everyone was supposed to be asleep.
But the second I reached the top step, I heard voices.
