*
Standing outside her bedroom door, I hate the thought that she’s in there upset over me. I hope she’s sleeping, but doubt she is. And I hope she didn’t cry herself to sleep, either. I want my voice, my guitar, lulling her into peaceful dreams.
Quietly, I open the door. Kailey’s not asleep, she’s sitting up slightly. Her blue eyes immediately find mine. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes red, and guilt hits my chest, hard.
“I was just peeking in on you to make sure you were alright,” I say. She barely even nods. “I didn’t call Geoffrey.” That gets her to turn her eyes to me. “But I think we need to . . .
“Sleep in your room,” she says with attitude. “That should be a safe distance.”
“Kailey, that’s not what I want.”
“What about what I want?” she asks.
Slowly, I walk over to the bed, sitting down by her feet. “If you got hurt because of me, it would kill me. I don’t think I could survive something like that again.”
“Again?” she asks, sitting up straighter.
I look her straight in the eye, knowing she can see the demons that live in me. “Again.”
“A girlfriend?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say, my voice barely able to choke out the word.
“When was this?”
“A long time ago.”
“You wouldn’t hurt a woman,” she says.
“But I did,” I say.
“Not on purpose,” she says, believing in me more than she should. “I know you. I know you wouldn’t.”
“Please consider having Geoffrey here at night,” I say. “I don’t want to be apart from you, at night or ever. I need this, Kailey. I need to know that no matter what, you’ll be safe.”
“For how long?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say, having given it no real timeframe.
“A week? Two?” she asks. “How long with Geoffrey staying outside our door all night will it take for you to trust yourself to sleep with me again?”
“I can’t say.”
She draws a long, slow breath, the kind you take before you’re about to give in to something you hate. “No Geoffrey. Move your bed in here. There’s plenty of room. And that way, we get to be close to each other, but when it’s time for sleep, you can be a good six feet away from me.”
“I don’t know.”
“If I hear you having another dream, I’ll toss something hard at your head,” she says with a smile.
It’s a decent compromise.
“Remember when Geoffrey abducted me? You insisted the safest place for me was with you,” she teases.
She has me there. “I’m not going to move my bed in here,” I say, watching her eyes lower. Gently, I tilt her chin up. “That feels too permanent, and I really don’t want this to be.”
“Me, either,” she says.
“So I’ll take the floor.”
“No, that will be brutal,” she says. “At least sleep on the chaise lounge.”
“The floor,” I say, knowing brutal is exactly what I deserve.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Kailey
Ryder is asleep on the floor. The same spot he’s been for a little over three weeks now. I was hoping after a week or two, he’d relent, but every night, he grabs his pillow and blanket and sleeps in front of the door. He doesn’t even sleep next to the bed, where at least he could hold my hand. And every morning, he neatly folds his blanket and pillow, placing them aside. I keep hoping that one day he’ll put them away or, better yet, burn them.
Somehow the days pass quickly, though. We do normal couple things—binge watch shows, order takeout, although Ryder does cook most of our meals. He’s actually a really good cook. He scribbles in his song notebook constantly, and seems to always have some music playing around the house.
We talk a lot about ideas for the nursery, but he’s kept things light. No more wedding talk. It’s no secret he wants me to be his wife and for us to be a family, but I know what I want, what I need. Still, things between us are good, really good. Even though we aren’t sharing a bed, we still spend a lot of time in bed doing other things. I’m now an expert in talking dirty. He tells me he feels guilty he can’t reciprocate, and promises he’ll make it up to me. I’ll hold him to that. We’ve had a few visits from Maggie, Geoffrey, and my family, but mostly it’s just him and me, and I think that’s good. Our relationship has been a bit on fast forward, so it’s good to slow things down and get to know each other.
The press still hangs around outside, but since I rarely go anywhere, it’s not much of an issue. I’m following Ryder’s advice to not look at things online, so I really don’t know what the world thinks of me, and that’s for the best.
If he’s had bad dreams, he hasn’t told me. He’s probably not getting into a deep enough sleep to even dream, the floor is so hard. Still, he wakes me with a smile and a kiss. Most nights, he stays in bed with me until I fall asleep, then he moves. The man is very disciplined. I’d have fallen asleep in the forbidden bed weeks ago.
I look over at his handsome face. Even in his sleep, he looks tired. I don’t know if it’s from sleeping on the floor, or if it’s whatever happened in his past. My sixteen-week check-up with Dr. Myers is today. I’m really hoping he takes me off bed rest. Perhaps that would refresh and renew Ryder, or at least make him feel I’m not helpless.
“What are we going to do about Daddy?” I whisper, rubbing my belly.
Something flutters inside me, like if butterfly wings touched your skin. I do a little inventory of my body. Doesn’t feel like gas. My heart starts to race.
“Is that you?” I ask hopefully, giving my belly a gentle poke.
“Who else would it be?” Ryder asks, yawning and getting to his feet.
“I think I just felt the baby move!” I say, covering my mouth to try to contain my emotions.
“Our baby moved?” Ryder asks, rushing to my bedside. “Can I feel?”
I lift my shirt, my little round bump getting bigger by the day. “I don’t think you’ll be able to feel anything,” I say. “I barely felt it. Maybe I’m wrong.”
Ryder places both his hands on my belly and leans his head over. “Hey, it’s Daddy.”
“Oh, my God, I just felt it again,” I cry. “Keep talking.”
“He knows my voice?” Ryder asks.
“Of course, he does,” I say, running my fingers through Ryder’s hair. “All those books you’ve read, songs you sing—the baby knows.”
My heart full, I listen to Ryder talk to our baby, the little flutters in my stomach proof our baby loves him. Ryder can’t feel anything yet, but that doesn’t stop him. He talks about everything from music to how he can’t wait to meet him. I just listen, feeling the tiny movements of our child. When Ryder looks up at me, he has the biggest grin on his face.
I’ve been telling myself that the feelings I have for him are because I’m carrying his child, but this is so much more.
I love you, Ryder. The words fill my head, my heart, my soul. They just appear, like the love has always been there. Maybe I just finally stopped fighting it. I don’t know. I just know it’s true. Through all the issues, fighting, scares (his and mine), love has found its way into my heart.