<b>Chapter </b><b>146 </b>
~CELINE-
The silence in Hunter’s car feels like it’s trying to choke me.
I used to love car rides with him. Windows down, music loud, his hand finding mine at every red light.
Now I’m pressed against the passenger door like I’m afraid he might reach over and… what? Hurt me? He’s never hurt me.
Not physically.
But there are so many ways to hurt someone without everying a hand on them.
“You don’t have toe in,” I whisper as we pull into the medical building’s parking lot.
My voice sounds strange to my own ears–small and broken.
His jaw does that thing where it tightens and I know he’s grinding his teeth. “I’ming in.”
“Hunter, I can handle…..”
“You can’t handle anything.”
The words hit me like a p. Sharp. Final. True.
Because he’s right, isn’t he? I couldn’t handle telling him the truth. I couldn’t handle his reaction when he found out.
I couldn’t handle any of this.
I want to argue, but the words get stuck somewhere between my chest and my throat.
This Hunter…the one sitting next to me with his designer suit and his cold eyes–I don’t recognize him.
The Hunter I fell in love with used to make pancakes shaped like hearts and read bedtime stories to Caesar with different voices for every
character.
That Hunter is gone. And it’s my fault.
The waiting room is full of couples who look happy. Glowing pregnant women with partners who rub their backs and bring them water.
sit next to Hunter and wonder if we look like them from the outside. If anyone can see the cracks in our act.
“Mrs. Brown?” Dr. Martinez appears, and I see the exact moment she notices Hunter. Her smile falters. Just for a second, but I catch it.
“I escort my… Mrs. Brown to all her appointments now.” Hunter’s voice is smooth, but there’s something possessive in the way he says ‘my‘ that makes my skin crawl.
We follow her into the examination room, and suddenly the space feels microscopic.
Hunter positions himself in the corner like he’s guarding the door, and I perch on the edge of the examination table wondering how my life became a prison with beige walls and medical equipment.
“How are you feeling, Celine?” Dr. Martínez asks.
“Fine.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
“And your stress levels?”
I feel Hunter’s eyes on me, burning into my skin. “She’s been under minimal stress,” he answers for me. “I’ve made sure of that.”
Talmostugh.
Almost.
Because minimal stress? When I’m being held captive by the man I love? When I can’t see my do anything without his permission?
When every breath feels like it might be myst moment of freedom?
“I would like to do an ultrasound today,” Dr. Martinez says gently. “Check on the baby’s development.”
My heart stops. Restarts. Stops again.
I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready to see the tiny life growing inside me, not ready to make this real with Hunter watching like a hawk.
“Is that necessary?” The questiones out smaller than I intended.
“It’s standard procedure.”
Standard procedure. Like there’s anything standard about this situation. Hunter moves closer as Dr. Martinez prepares the machine.
“May 12”
She nods, and he’s suddenly right there, close enough that I can smell his cologne. The same one he wore on our first date. The same one
that used to make me feel safe.
Now it just makes me want to cry.
I lie back and lift my shirt, exposing my stomach.
It’s barely showing yet, just a slight curve that could be mistaken for too much dinner. But Hunter’s eyes are fixed on it like he’s seeing a
miracle.
The gel is cold, and I shiver.
Dr. Martinez positions the wand, and suddenly there’s an image on the screen. Grainy and ck and white andpletely impossible.
“There we are,” she says softly. “About eight weeks along.”
And then we hear it.
The heartbeat.
Fast and strong and so impossibly real that I forget how to breathe.
Hunter makes a sound–soft and broken and so full of wonder that for a moment, just a moment, I remember why I fell in love with him.
“The heartbeat is strong,” Dr. Martinez continues. “Everything looks normal.”
Without warning, Hunter’s hand covers mine where it rests on my stomach. His palm is warm and trembling, and I hate myself for the way my body responds to his touch.
For the way I still crave it despite everything
“Can you can you hear that he whispers.
“yes, I breathe.
His thumb traces gentle circles on my hand, and suddenly we’re not captor and prisoner. We’re just two people listening to the heartbeat of our child for the first time.
“It’s so fast,” he says, and his voice is full of wonder.
“One hundred and fifty beats per minute,” Dr. Martinez confirms. “Perfectly normal.”
Hunter’s free hand hovers over my stomach, not quite touching. “May 1?”
The question is directed at me, not the doctor. And there’s something vulnerable in his voice that cracks my chest wide open.
1 nod.
His palm settles gently on my stomach, warm and protective. His hand is so muchrger than mine, spanning almost my entire abdomen.
“Hello, little one,” he whispers. “I’m your daddy.”
Tears blur my vision, and I blink them away furiously.
This is exactly what I can’t let happen. I can’t let myself be fooled by these moments of tenderness, these glimpses of the man I thought I
knew.
“I promise I’ll protect you,” he continues, his voice thick with emotion. “Both of you. Always.”
The vow sends ice through my veins. Because I know he means it. But Hunter’s idea of protection involves cages and control, threats and
maniption.
“Mr. Reid,” Dr. Martinez says carefully, “I do need to discuss some concerns.”
Hunter’s hand stills on my stomach. “What concerns?”
“Given Mrs. Brown’s history and current stress levels, this pregnancy will need careful monitoring. Stress can have serious effect for both
mother and baby.”
“What kind of effect?”
“Pretermbor, low birth weight, developmental issues. That’s why it’s crucial that Mrs. Brown maintain a calm, supportive environment.”
Hunter’s eyes find mine, and I see the calction there. He’s already figuring out how to use this information against me.
“What do you rmend?” he asks.
“Reduced stress, gentle exercise, proper nutrition. And most importantly, emotional support. Mrs. Brown needs to feel safe and secure.”
“She is safe,” Hunter says firmly. “I’ve made sure of that.”
Dr. Martinez hesitates. “Mr. Reid, with respect, safety isn’t just about physical protection. Emotional well–being is equally important.”
The temperature in the room drops. Hunter’s hand tightens possessively on my stomach.
“I understand,” he says, his voice deceptively mild. “Mrs. Brown’s emotional well–being is my top priority.”
It’s a lie, and we all know it.
In the car afterward, the silence is different. Heavy with the weight of what we just experienced.
“The baby is healthy,” Hunter says finally.
“Yes.”
“The heartbeat was strong.”
“Yes.”
He pulls into traffic, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “You’ll follow all of Dr. Martinez’s rmendations.”
It’s not a question.
“Hunter….”
“You’ll take your vitamins, eat properly, get enough rest. You’ll do everything necessary to keep our baby healthy.”
“Our baby?” The words slip out before I can stop them.
His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, dark and possessive. “Yes. Our baby. The baby you’re carrying because I couldn’t bring myself to stay away from you, despite everything you’ve done.”
The usation in his voice steals my breath. “I didn’t n this.”
“Neither did I. But here we are.” He turns into the parking garage of his building. “And now we both have to live with the consequences.”
As he parks, his hand finds my stomach again, gentle despite his harsh words.
“I meant what I said in there,” he murmurs. “I’ll protect you both. Whatever it takes.”
The promise shouldfort me. Instead, it terrifies me.
Because Hunter’s idea of protection has be my beautiful, suffocating prison.
And now there’s no escape for either of us. <fn1813> This update is avable on find?novel</fn1813>