Chapter 42
42
AMELIA
A few days later, Jared helped me out of his private jet and into his car.
His hand lingered on my arm, steadying me as I moved.
I couldn’t help but notice how careful he was being.
It was strange, this version of Jared.
The man who had been so cocky and maybe even a little cold was now hovering over me like a nervous parent.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
Part of me wanted to believe he genuinely cared, that this wasn’t just about guilt or obligation.
But another part of me—the part that had been hurt too many times—wasn’t ready to trust him yet.
“Are you good?” he asked as I settled into the seat.
“I’m fine.
This was the most time we’d ever spent together one-on-one. Jared had been doting on me constantly. The hospital stay had been a little longer than was initially predicted. Jared made sure to bring me food from outside the cafeteria. He insisted on getting me the best of the best. He was always making sure I was comfortable, and generally acting like a man possessed. It was overwhelming, to say the least.
But as much as I could see he was trying, I hated that we couldn’t seem to talk about the real issues between us. We had yet to talk about our feelings and fears and the fact that we were about to have a baby together. If he’d just give me a single ounce of his truth, I’d tell him mine. But he didn’t. And so, I guarded my broken, confused heart. No way was I putting myself out there.
“Alright,” he said, sliding into the driver’s seat.
“Are you warm? Cold?”
“I’m fine, Jared.”
He started the short drive to the campus.
I was expecting to go back to my condo, but Jared drove past the turn and headed toward his own house.
I frowned, glancing at him.
“Where are we going?”
“My place,” he said, his tone matter of fact.
I blinked, surprised.
“Your place? Jared, I can’t stay with you. I have my own home.”
He shook his head.
“You’re on bedrest, Amelia. You need someone to look after you, and I’m not letting you do that alone. You can’t get out of bed. Period.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off.
“It’s not up for discussion.”
I sighed, leaning back in my seat.
This was a lot. Too much, maybe.
I didn’t know how to navigate this new dynamic between us.
It was making me uncomfortable.
I didn’t know how to depend on anyone.
Depending on someone like Jared felt dangerous.
Not physically, but he could break my heart.
I knew it wasn’t good to stress.
I didn’t want to be stressed out worrying about him and what our relationship was.
When we got to his house, he cut the engine.
“Stay right here,” he said.
“Am I to stay in the car?”
“Just sit tight.”
He ran inside and returned with a wheelchair.
I rolled my eyes. “You can’t be serious,” I muttered.
“Serious as a heart attack,” he said.
“Bedrest doesn’t mean I can never stand,” I sighed.
“The doctor said?—”
“I’m not taking any chances,” he said.
I let him help me into the chair.
Inside, he pushed me down the hallway and opened the door.
It was a guest bedroom.
I knew his room was upstairs.
I didn’t know if I was disappointed or relieved he planned on putting me in the guest bedroom.
“Jared, stop,” I said when he parked the wheelchair next to the bed.
“Stop what?” he asked.
“You don’t need to do this for me. We’re not together. We have a lot to figure out, and I get that you’re worried, but this is a lot. I’m uncomfortable taking up space in your life if you’re only doing this for the baby.”
He turned to look at me, his expression serious.
“I’m barely thinking about the baby right now, Amelia. I’m worried for you . You scared the hell out of me. I’m making sure you are okay. The baby is important, but it’s you that I’m most concerned about.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding.
“Why do you care, then? If this isn’t just about the baby, why do you care so much?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out.
He looked frustrated, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.
And that was the problem, wasn’t it?
Jared couldn’t—or wouldn’t—voice what he was really thinking.
I wanted to believe he cared.
His actions said he did, but I needed more.
I needed the words.
But I wasn’t going to get them.
It left me feeling defeated and maybe a little hopeless.
Jared was quiet as he fluffed pillows and adjusted the blankets.
It was strange, seeing him like this.
The man who was always so confident, so in control, now seemed skittish.
He was just as uncomfortable as I was.
He helped me into bed and tucked me in.
“Here’s the remote,” he said.
I stared at the wall.
“To what?” I asked.
He grinned and pushed a button.
To my shock, a large television slowly rose up from the foot of the bed.
“The TV,” he said.
“Oh my.”
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
He left the room, and I stared at the blank TV screen, my mind swirling with too many thoughts to sort through.
This was all so much—too much, maybe.
I didn’t know how to feel about Jared’s sudden intensity, the way he was hovering over me like I might shatter if he looked away for too long.
Part of me wanted to believe it was genuine care, but another part of me couldn’t shake the fear that it was guilt or obligation.
Or worse—that it wouldn’t last.
The door creaked open again, and Jared walked back in carrying a large ice chest. He set it down on the bedside table with a thud and opened the lid, revealing an assortment of snacks and drinks meticulously packed inside.
There were bags of crisps, chocolate bars, bottles of sparkling water, and even a few fresh fruit containers.
It was like he’d raided a corner store just for me.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d want,” he said, his voice softer than usual.
“So I got a bit of everything.”
I raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress the small smile tugging at my lips.
“A bit? Jared, this is enough to feed an army.”
He shrugged, looking almost sheepish—a rare expression for him.
“Better to have options.”
I reached for a bottle of water and he handed it to me.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I need to go to the office for a bit,” he said.
“Will you be okay here? Clair will be coming by soon to sit with you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“But you do.”
Arguing was futile.
“Can you bring my laptop back with you? I need to get some work done.”
He frowned, shaking his head.
“Amelia, you’re on bedrest. You shouldn’t be working. No stress.”
I crossed my arms, glaring at him.
“I’m about to have a baby, Jared. I need to work. I’m not going to give up my career, or my health insurance, or anything else just because you think I should rest.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“I don’t think you should rest. I know you have to if you want to survive the next five months.”
“I don’t know what you’re expecting of me right now. You have a job to do?—”
“Your job right now is to rest?—”
I wanted to scream in frustration.
“I can’t do that here, with you, with everything up in the air?—”
“I’m the one that messed up, and I’m trying to fix it.”
“I don’t need you to fix it, Jared,” I said, my voice breaking.
“I just need you here. I don’t need stuff. I don’t need your money or you hovering around acting like my doctor. I need you . Just you.”
He looked at me like I’d just slapped him, his expression a mix of shock and something else I couldn’t quite place.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.
“Why are you even interested in someone like me?” he asked finally, his voice quiet.
“Someone capable of hurting you, of putting you last, of putting my career first? What if I fail? What if I’m no longer the best, the smartest, the most talented?”
I stared at him, my heart aching.
“I’ve never cared about those things, Jared. Just you.”
He looked away, his jaw tightening.
“You deserve better.”
“Maybe,” I said softly.
“But I don’t want better. I want you.”
He didn’t respond.
Every second that passed felt like an eternity.
I could see the walls going back up, the vulnerability slipping away.
He turned and left the room without another word.
I wanted to tell him I loved him.
I wanted to say the words out loud, to make him understand how much he meant to me.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
Not when I was just starting to realize how broken the man in front of me was.
Jared had spent his entire life proving himself, pushing himself to be the best, the smartest, the most talented.
And now, faced with the possibility of failure—of not being enough—he was terrified.
I didn’t know how to fix that.
I didn’t know if I even could.
It wasn’t my place to fix him.
He had to want to be different.
I believed he was trying, but he wasn’t really pushing himself.
If he didn’t want to, I had to accept things would never be the way I wanted.
I stared at the TV screen, the glow of some mindless reality show casting shadows across the room.
The fruit Jared had left—sliced mango and pineapple—sat untouched on the plate beside me.
I wasn’t hungry, just bored.
I missed my work. I missed doing things.
The next month was going to drive me crazy.
I’d already cycled through three channels, each more insufferable than the last.
The door creaked open, and Clair poked her head in.
“Knock, knock,” she said with a grin, holding up a paper bag.
“I come bearing snacks.”
“Thank God,” I muttered, tossing the remote onto the bed.
“If I have to watch one more episode of people yelling at each other over cake designs, I might lose my mind.”
Clair laughed, crossing the room and plopping down on the edge of the bed.
She dug into the bag and pulled out a box of chocolate cookies.
“Here. These’ll cure your boredom better than any TV show.”
I took one gratefully, biting into it with a sigh.
“You’re a lifesaver.”
“So, how’s being bedrest treating you?”
“It feels like house arrest,” I corrected.
“I feel like a prisoner.”
“Jared is making sure you’re healing,” she said.
I rolled my eyes. “Is that what he’s doing?”
Clair smirked, leaning back against the headboard.
“Well, he’s not wrong. You do need to take it easy. But I get it—you’re not exactly the ‘sit still and do nothing’ type, are you?”
“Not remotely,” I grumbled, reaching for another cookie.
“I feel like I’m going stir crazy already. And Jared’s hovering is a lot. He’s acting like I’m made of glass.”
Clair raised an eyebrow, her tone teasing.
“Oh, come on. You’ve got the guy wrapped around your finger. He’s clearly worried sick about you. And let’s be honest, Jared doesn’t exactly have a reputation for being Mr. Sensitive. This is progress.”
I sighed, picking at the edge of the blanket.
“I know he’s trying. But it’s complicated. He’s so used to being in control, to fixing things. And this? Me? This isn’t something he can just fix with a scalpel or a brilliant research paper. I’m a human with feelings.”
Clair tilted her head, studying me with a soft smile.
“He cares about you, Amelia. More than he probably knows how to articulate. Give him time. And give yourself time too. I saw him at the lab. That man is crazy about you.”
“Maybe.” I sighed.
“Or maybe he’s just crazy.”