Page 140 of Call You Mine
She looks like home.
And I’m supposed to walk away from that.
I can’t leave her. Not because she isn’t strong enough—she’s stronger than anyone I know—but because the thought of not being here, of something happening while I’m gone, claws at my ribs until I can barely breathe.
He’s in the hospital.
My uncle’s voice doesn’t just echo—it burrows, digs in, won’t let me think past it. Every second I stand here, I see my brother hurt and alone, needing me.
And every second I look at her, I see everything I could lose if I walk out that door.
“What’s wrong?” Ava steps closer, her voice soft, but hereyes already searching, already knowing something’s cracked open inside me.
The truth surges up, hot and immediate.
Tell her.
Ask her to come.
Don’t do this alone.
But then I look at her again—at the weight she’s carrying, at the exhaustion she tries to hide—and the words die before they ever make it out.
She deserves rest. Safety. A night where nothing touches her.
Not this.
I swallow it all down, every ounce of panic and guilt and fear, forcing it into something smaller, more manageable.
I can do this.
I can go and come back before she even opens her eyes.
I have to.
I wrap my arms around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head, missing her before I’ve even left. “You need to sleep.”
She hums against my chest. “Don’t tell me what to do,” she says, but it comes out half-hearted with how tired she is.
Despite the anxiety tightening around my lungs, I smile—my wife’s sass has no limit, and I hope she passes it on to our daughter, just like the traces of it I see in Georgie.
“And I prepared a little surprise for you,” I tell her, grabbing her face in my hands and bringing her gaze to mine.
Her face lights up. “An orgasm?”
“No, love,” I say with a laugh, a jolt of desire running through regardless. “I drew you a bath.”
She tilts her head back and lets out a sigh before her eyes meet mine again. “I don’t want to take a bath. Can you draw me a picture of you giving me an orgasm?”
I press a kiss to her forehead. “Just make sure you set a timer for fifteen minutes.” I give her a light tap on the ass,and she giggles into my chest. A sound I spent months wishing I’d hear from her, and now she gives it to me so willingly.
Ava lifts her head, resting her chin against my chest, looking up at me. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Letting out an exhale, my mind races with what to tell her. A lie—no,a half-truth—is on the tip of my tongue. “My uncle called,” I start, ready to tell her that it’s no big deal—that I can take care of it, like I always do—but it already feels wrong, like I’ll break everything we’ve built between us the second the words leave my mouth. “It’s my brother.”
Ava’s eyes soften, her brow furrowing, and I swear I feel her arms around my waist tighten. Like she’s ready to protect me on an instinctual level, holding me as close as she can with her swollen belly between us. “What happened?”
I bring my hand to the back of her head, gently pulling her back to my chest. I’m sure she can hear how fast my heart is beating as I tell her everything my uncle told me about Auggie being in the hospital, while trying to ignore the guilt piling high on my shoulders.
