Chapter 0348

But even as my body shuddered with release and he slumped into a sweaty, panting heap on top of me, I sensed Noah’s mind was elsewhere. Once we had both stopped throbbing, he rolled off and walked into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked. I lay there for a moment on my belly, catching my breath, the warm summer breeze blowing across my sweat-covered flesh, before rolling onto my back and sitting up.

“Are you alright?” I called out, my voice still husky.

There was a pause before Noah’s voice drifted back. “I’m worried,” he admitted softly. “About the baby. And you.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

When he emerged from the bathroom, fully nude, his face was drawn with concern. My heart stuttered at the sight of him, vulnerable and open in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. The moonlight streaming through the window cast shadows across his muscled form, highlighting the tension in his shoulders. Without thinking, I got up and went to him, cupping his face in my hands. His stubble rasped against my palms as I tugged his tall frame closer, causing him to hunch slightly to meet my gaze.

“It’s going to be okay,” I promised, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Our baby will be fine.”

Noah’s hands came up to hold my wrists, his eyes closing as he pressed his forehead against mine. The heat of his body enveloped me, comforting and familiar. Suddenly, he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Hannah, I…” He swallowed hard, seeming to struggle with something he wanted to say.

I was reminded of that night when I’d told him about White Rabbit—I still hadn’t forgotten it, nearly two months later. He’d stopped by the door, said those same two words, then his voice had trailed off, and he’d left.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked softly, my thumbs stroking his cheekbones.

His mouth opened and closed a couple of times. But then he shook his head and pulled back, brushing past me. The loss of his warmth left me feeling suddenly cold and bereft, despite the mid-summer heat blowing in through the open window.

“It’s late,” he said, his voice suddenly gruff. “Let’s get to sleep.”

I watched him climb into bed, a sense of disappointment settling in my chest. For a moment, I thought he might open up to me, let me in completely. But the walls were back up, and I was left wondering what he’d been about to say.

Two weeks passed in a blur. The night before the procedure, I found myself sitting at my vanity, brushing out my hair before bed. The repetitive motion was soothing, helping to calm my frayed nerves. Noah lay in bed behind me, the soft glow of his phone illuminating his face. I could see his reflection in the mirror, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scrolled through something on the screen. Suddenly, Noah’s phone buzzed loudly, breaking the silence. I watched in the mirror as he read what appeared to be an email, his expression darkening with each passing second.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

I turned to face him, my brush forgotten in my hand. “What is it?”

Noah looked up. The light from his phone cast harsh shadows across his face, making him look older and more tired than usual.

“I can’t come with you tomorrow, Hannah. I’m sorry.”