Chapter Twenty-Three - Hannah
The bag of medications sits on the kitchen counter, glaring at me like a mountain I’m not sure I can climb. I unpack them slowly, placing the bottles and boxes in a neat row: the blood pressure pills, the calcium supplements, the low-dose aspirin, and the prenatal vitamins.
Each one feels like a reminder of how fragile this situation is—how fragile I am.
Across the room, I can feel Makar watching me. His piercing blue eyes track my every movement, his expression unreadable but intense.
“You’re going to burn a hole through me with that glare,” I say without looking up, my voice tinged with exasperation.
“I’m trying to figure you out,” he replies, his tone calm but edged with curiosity.
I finally glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s so hard to figure out?”
He leans back against the kitchen table, crossing his arms. “Why are you so determined to keep this baby? After everything the doctor said, after all the risks… why?”
The question catches me off guard, even though I’ve been expecting it. My hands still on the aspirin bottle, and I turn to face him fully. “I don’t know why, but… they mean everything to me,” I say softly, my voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me.
His brow furrows, his jaw tightening. “Even if it means risking your life?”
“Yes.”
The single word lingers between us, heavy and unyielding.
“I’ve lost so much already, Makar,” I continue, my voice trembling slightly. “My family, my sense of normalcy, my freedom…. This baby? This is something I get to keep. Something that’s mine. I’m confident that I’ll make it. I have to.”
He stares at me for a long moment, his expression softening almost imperceptibly. The hard edges of his face seem to relax, and for the first time since this conversation began, I see a flicker of something warmer in his eyes.
“You’re stubborn,” he says, his voice quieter now.
“I’ve heard that before,” I reply, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
He pushes off the table and strides toward me, stopping just a foot away. His presence is overwhelming, his gaze locked with mine. “If you’re going to be this stubborn,” he says, reaching for one of the pill bottles, “you’ll need help.”
I blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. “Help?”
He smirks faintly, shaking the bottle lightly. “I’ll set reminders for you to take these. I’ll make sure you eat the right food. Hell, I’ll even force you to stay in bed if I have to.”
“Force me?” I scoff, narrowing my eyes at him.
His smirk widens, and there’s a glint of amusement—and something darker—in his eyes. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
My cheeks flush, and I glare at him, though I can’t stop the small laugh that escapes me. “Maybe I wouldn’t completely hate it.”
We’re standing so close now that I can feel the warmth radiating from him, the scent of his cologne wrapping around me like a net. He places the pill bottle back on the counter and steps even closer, his hand brushing against mine as he leans in.
“Hannah,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down my spine.
“Yes?” I manage, my breath catching as his fingers trail lightly over my wrist.
“You’re going to drive me insane,” he says, his lips curving into a smirk that’s equal parts exasperation and admiration.
“Good,” I whisper, meeting his gaze head-on.
For a moment, the air between us crackles with tension, a charged silence that feels both dangerous and exhilarating. Then he steps back, his hand falling away as he picks up another bottle of medication.
“Come on,” he says, his tone more serious now. “Let’s figure out a system for these.”
I watch him as he lines up the bottles, his movements precise and deliberate. There’s something strangely endearing about the way he focuses, as though ensuring my safety has become his personal mission.
“Thank you,” I say softly, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
He glances at me, his blue eyes softer than I’ve ever seen them. “Don’t thank me,” he says gruffly. “Just take care of yourself. That’s all I ask.”
***
The bitter taste of the pills lingers on my tongue, and I grimace as I chase it down with a glass of water. The first dose of this new reality. I set the glass back on the counter with a soft clink and glance at Makar. He watches me, his arms crossed, an amused smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
“Not a fan of the flavor?” he asks dryly.
I glare at him, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “They’re awful. Like swallowing chalk soaked in motor oil.”
His smirk widens, and he steps closer, moving the glass further out of the way. “You’ll get used to it.”
“Doubtful,” I mutter, but there’s no real venom in my voice.
Makar doesn’t reply, instead placing a hand on the small of my back and guiding me out of the kitchen. His touch is steady, firm, but not overbearing. “You need to lie down,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I don’t resist, too tired to push back. The fatigue that comes with all this is relentless, and I feel it in every part of my body.
He leads me into the bedroom, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the space. As I sink onto the bed, the plush mattress enveloping me, I let out a long breath, my shoulders sagging with relief.
Makar kneels beside me, his sharp eyes scanning my face. “Your feet,” he says, glancing at them. “They’re swollen.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” I quip, trying to inject some humor into the moment.
He raises an eyebrow. “Take off your socks.”
I blink at him, surprised. “Why?”
“I’m going to help,” he replies matter-of-factly.
I hesitate, but the exhaustion wins out, and I sit back, letting him tug off my socks. His hands are warm as they wrap around my ankle, his touch firm but gentle as he begins to massage the arch of my foot.
A sigh escapes me, unbidden, and I sink further into the bed. “I hate to admit it,” I mumble, “but that feels… amazing.”
His lips twitch in amusement. “You sound surprised.”
“Maybe because I am,” I reply, a teasing edge creeping into my voice. “Didn’t think someone like you had a soft side.”
He doesn’t respond immediately, his fingers working over a particularly tense spot. Then he smirks, his gaze lifting to meet mine. “Don’t get used to it,” he says, his voice low.
The words are playful, but the tone sends a shiver down my spine.
His hands move up, kneading the swollen flesh of my calves, and I close my eyes, letting the warmth of his touch soothe me. Then his fingers trail higher, skimming above my knee, and my breath catches.
“Makar,” I murmur, my voice faltering.
His lips curve into a wicked smile as he leans closer, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss just above my knee. “Hmm?” he hums, his voice dark and teasing.
“That’s not… exactly medicinal,” I manage, my heart racing.
His blue eyes gleam as he lifts his head, his expression a mix of mischief and something far more dangerous. “Who said I was practicing medicine?”
Heat floods my face, but I can’t deny the way my body responds to him, the way my pulse quickens under his gaze.
He shifts, his hands bracing on either side of my hips as he leans over me. His presence is overwhelming, and I’m acutely aware of every inch of him—the sharp angles of his jaw, the brightness of his eyes, the faint scent of his cologne.
“You drive me insane,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough as he leans closer.
I swallow hard, my breath hitching as his lips hover just above mine. “I could say the same about you,” I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
His smirk returns, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—something raw and unguarded. He closes the distance, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that’s anything but gentle.
It’s hungry, demanding, a clash of emotions neither of us is willing to name. His hands move to my waist, gripping me firmly as he presses me further into the mattress.
I respond without thinking, my fingers curling into his shirt as I kiss him back with equal intensity. Every nerve in my body feels alive, every thought drowned out by the heat of the moment.
Makar shifts, straddling me, his weight pinning me in place. His hands trail up my sides, slipping beneath the hem of my shirt, and I shiver at the feel of his fingers on my skin.
“You shouldn’t… do this,” I murmur against his lips, though the words lack conviction.
“Why not?” he murmurs back, his voice low and teasing.
“Because….” My words trail off as his lips move to my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
“Because?” he prompts, his hands moving higher, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
I don’t answer, too caught up in the way he’s unraveling me, piece by piece.
I feel his palm flatten against the curve of my belly, his fingers splaying out to trace the gentle swell. His lips leave mine, trailing down to my jaw, then to my neck, leaving a line of heat in their wake.
“Makar,” I murmur, my voice barely audible over the sound of my own pounding heart.
His mouth hovers against my collarbone, his breath warm against my skin. “You feel incredible,” he murmurs, his voice rough and edged with restraint. His hand on my stomach shifts, his thumb brushing over the fabric of my shirt. “Our baby,” he adds softly, and for a fleeting moment, I catch a vulnerability in his tone that he rarely lets show.
My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer. “We’re fine,” I whisper, my voice a mix of reassurance and invitation. “You don’t have to hold back.”
Then he stiffens slightly, his kisses slowing until he finally pulls back. His gaze meets mine, his expression conflicted.
“No,” he says abruptly, sitting back on his heels.
I blink up at him, still breathless and caught off guard by the sudden shift. “No?”
Makar smirks faintly, his blue eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something darker. “Not tonight,” he says, his tone light but firm. “It’s not a good idea.”
I narrow my eyes at him, propping myself up on my elbows. “Are you serious?”
“Very,” he replies, his smirk widening as he leans back, his hands resting on his thighs. “You’ll have to wait.”
My lips part in disbelief, a mix of frustration and amusement bubbling up inside me. I glare at him, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re cruel.”
“Maybe,” he agrees, his tone full of smug satisfaction. “You’re the one who’ll be thinking about this all night.”
He steps closer, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to my forehead before turning to leave the room.
I fall back onto the bed, letting out a soft groan of frustration. Damn him and that maddening restraint.
Damn me for wanting him even more because of it.
When I glance up, Makar is staring at me with those intense blue eyes. My cheeks flush as he leans in to nip at my collarbone.
“You’re staring again,” I tease, trying to mask the breathlessness still lingering from his earlier touch.
“Can you blame me?” he counters, his tone low as he kneels back onto the bed.
My breath catches as he leans down, his lips brushing against my baby bump through the thin fabric of my shirt. The gentleness of the gesture sends a shiver through me, stark against the intensity he usually carries. His hands find my hips, holding me steady as he peppers kisses along the curve of my stomach.
“Makar…,” I whisper, my voice trembling with anticipation.
He looks up at me, his blue eyes dark and smoldering, a dangerous mix of mischief and affection. “You think I’m cruel?” he murmurs, his lips trailing lower.
“Yes,” I manage, though the word comes out more as a sigh than an accusation.
His smirk returns, slow and deliberate. “Then I’ll show you just how kind I can be.”
Before I can respond, his hands slide under the hem of my skirt, thick fingers sliding inside of me. My breath hitches as he crooks his finger, pleasure sparking through my tired body.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough with sincerity.
The words make my chest tighten, a wave of warmth rushing through me. His hands move with purpose, exploring, teasing, and the tension in my body builds until I’m lost in the sensations he’s drawing out of me.
He works me softly, gently, until I’m a whimpering mess against the pillows. I come quietly, my whole body shaking, a soft moan on my lips.
When he finally pulls back, leaving me breathless and flushed, his expression is softer than I’ve ever seen it. He shifts beside me, lying down on the bed and pulling me close. One of his arms wraps around my shoulders, while his other hand rests protectively over my bump.
His lips curve into a faint smile, and he presses a kiss to my temple, the warmth of his breath brushing against my skin.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel safe, cocooned in the strength of his embrace. As my eyes drift shut, his hand stays firmly over my belly, grounding me in the quiet assurance of his presence.
For tonight, that’s all I need.