Chapter Twenty-Four
“Hey,” I whispered, reaching down to run my fingers through Pocket’s ruffled hair. He lifted his head sleepily from where he had fallen asleep with his head on the bed next to me.
“Hey, love.” Yawning, he stretched, and for a second he looked around puzzled, like he couldn’t work out where he was. “Sorry I fell asleep.” Guilt rippled across his face. “Are you ok?” All sleep left him in a rush. “Has something happened? Are you in pain?”
Closing my hand around his wrist, I stopped him from rushing out of the room to get a nurse.
Something he had done a lot in the first two days I had been in the hospital.
He had calmed down a bit, but the panic was always there in his eyes.
Almost like he was afraid that one day I would tell him I was in agony.
Sure, I was in pain, but really, it was nothing.
He had been worse when he had come off his bike all those months ago and he had been up and walking around the very next day, even with his broken ribs.
I hadn’t been allowed out of bed yet. But today was the day I would be discharged, or so they’d said.
I couldn’t wait.
But at the same time, a part of me didn’t want to leave. Being in the hospital meant Pocket was by my side. I didn’t know what was going to happen next.
“You should go home and sleep. I’ve said before—”
He pressed his fingers to my lips, silencing me. “No. I told you before.” He gave me a pointed look. “I’m not leaving your side. Not until I know you are ok. Both of you.”
“Ok, but you’re starting to smell,” I said sweetly, and he grinned at me. “You really could do with a shower.”
He cracked a smile. The first one I had seen in days. Pocket seemed to be in a permanent state of anxiety.
“I’ll shower when we get home.” He froze, like he hadn’t meant to say that. Pocket’s dark eyes searched my face and finally he let out a sigh, and with that sigh, the tension seemed to seep from his shoulders. Leaning back, he forced a smile.
“I guess we need to talk about things, hey?”
Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back into the soft pillows. “Yeah, I guess we do.”
“I…shit,” Pocket groaned. “I’m sorry.”
My head snapped up with an audible click and I rubbed at the offending spot with a grimace. “What are you apologising for?” Confused, I reached for him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I didn’t protect you, Chloe. And I should have. I knew you were—”
Groaning, I reached up and fisted the front of his wrinkled tee, dragging him down until our faces were just inches apart. I had never been so forward or so forceful, but almost dying at the hands of my mum’s crazy husband.
“I’m the one who ran away. I didn’t want to put you in danger from him. He had my mum killed in front of me and he’s been following me for years. I knew if he saw me with you that I would lose you as well. Plus, I’m a coward. I—”
“You aren’t going to lose me, Chloe. Not unless you want me to get lost.” He reached for my cheek and then let his hand fall down to his side. He kept doing that. Going to touch me and then stopping, and I was hating it.
“I don’t want to lose you. But, Pocket?” I waited until he looked at me before taking a deep breath and saying what I needed to say. “I need to tell you something.”
He turned away. “I know, babe, and we will work through it. Anything you need, I’ll get it for you and I’ll stand by your side. I don’t care how long it takes or even if you never want to be with me like that—”
“Will you shut up?” Lashing out, I clamped my hand over his mouth.
“That’s not what I wanted to talk about.
He didn’t rape me if that’s what you are mumbling about.
He touched my breasts a little and, well…
” I gestured to my bruises. “But he didn’t do that.
Ok. So put that out of your head. I’m not some little delicate flower.
I’m in a little pain, but emotionally I’m good because I know I’m free from him at last.”
“You are free, I promise. I watched him die.” Neither one of us mentioned the fact that the crazy fool had had a heart attack trying to rape me. We probably never would again.
“What did you want to talk to me about?”
“It’s about…” My eyes travelled down to my protruding stomach and the air left his lungs in a whoosh.
“Good morning, love birds.” The nurse’s sing-song voice sounded from the door. “Are we ready to go and see these babies?”
Pocket grinned. “Yeah.” Pausing, he cocked his head to the side. “Wait, did you say babies? As in more than one?”
I looked away. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” I whispered. I couldn’t read the look on his face. All the emotions under the sun seemed to be warring against each other.
“Ok, well.” He shook himself. “That doesn’t really change anything.” He said finally, but there was something in his voice that said differently. “The dad?” He side-eyed me.
“Oh.” He didn’t know. He didn’t know because I hadn’t told him. He was sitting there and looking after us without actually knowing the truth. It spoke to the kind of person he was. The kind of man he was.
“Pocket?”
He turns to me. “I’m with you no matter what, Chloe,” he said firmly.
“I’ve only slept with one man in my life, Pocket,” I murmured quietly.
Realisation hit him slowly. One second he was smiling and then the next his eyes were darting from my belly to my face and the small smile had bloomed into a full on toothy grin.
“We’re having two babies?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t help it, I snorted a laugh.
“Two.” He said the word softly, but the calmness was an act. Seconds later, he jumped out of his seat and it clattered backwards. The nurse stumbled back, shocked at the sudden jumping around, but there was no getting away from him. Grabbing her by the waist, he spun her around and began to waltz.
“You’re not mad or freaked out?” I could barely hear myself over his laughter and my own.
“We are going to have two babies.” He spun the startled but giggling nurse around. Suddenly, he froze. “What do I do with two babies?” Panic tinged his voice. “I don’t know how to be a dad to one baby, let alone two.”
Laughing, the nurse patted his cheek. “You start by looking after your wife.”
“Oh, we aren’t married,” I said quickly. Men got freaked out when you mentioned marriage, or so I had been told. The only married couple I knew were Gio and Keeley and they were so in love it was sometimes sickening. “We’re not even really tog—”
Pocket shot me a look. “We aren’t married yet.” The smile he gave me was the kind I had always dreamt of seeing on a man’s face. “But we will be before these babies are born. If she will have me.” Cocking his head to the side, he waited.
I didn’t know what to say. My heart felt like it was thumping in my throat, which made it impossible to speak.
“Chloe?” he asked. “Will you marry me?”