Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
ELENA
I’m sitting in a cold doctor’s office.
The fluorescent lights hum.
There’s a stack of outdated parenting magazines on the counter, taunting me.
My husband—ex-husband now. I’m confused as he sits beside me. Why am I back here?
His hands are folded and his jaw is tight, like he's bracing for impact.
The doctor takes off her glasses, folds her hands, and says the words that broke me once:
“Your tests came back. You’re not ovulating regularly. Conception is…unlikely.”
I feel the weight set heavy in my chest. “Unlikely?”
She softens her tone.
“There are treatments. Options. But naturally? It will be very difficult.”
My husband exhales hard, head in his hands.
And in the dream — just like it happened — he says the sentence that scorched my heart:
“So… this is your fault.”
I gasp.
“I—I didn’t know—”
“You should’ve figured this out sooner,” he snaps. “We wasted time.”
My stomach sinks, and my chest tightens with guilt.
The room tilts, and I feel dizzy.
“It’s not…” I whisper, “it’s not something I did wrong.”
But he won’t look at me, nor even touch me.
He won’t say he’s still on my side.
And the doctor, for all her professionalism, can’t stop the shame boiling up my throat.
The dream shifts.
The floor disappears beneath me, and I hear his voice, cold and final:
“You’re the reason we don’t have a family.”
My breath stops.
“Please—” I choke. “Please don’t say that.”
The room dissolves into static.
And suddenly Someone is shaking me gently.
“Elena?”
My eyes snap open as I come to.
There’s light, warmth, and sheets tangled around my legs.
Colt’s concerned face is inches from mine.
Barely awake, hair rumpled, eyes heavy with sleep.
“Hey,” he whispers. “You okay?”
My throat closes.
I wipe at my face, surprised to feel tears.
“Oh,” I croak. “I—I was dreaming.”
His brow knits instantly.
“Elena. You were crying in your sleep. It seemed like you were in pain. Tell me what just happened.”
I swallow and try to sit up, but fail, ending up somewhere on my elbows.
“It was just…an old memory,” I say. “Nothing important.”
He shifts closer, not touching—not yet. But he’s close enough that his presence feels like a blanket around me.
“That didn’t look like nothing,” he murmurs.
I stare down at my hands.
“It was…my ex,” I admit. “We were trying to get pregnant. And when we couldn’t…he blamed me.”
Colt’s inhale is sharp and visible.
“He said I was the reason we didn’t have a family.”
My voice cracks.
“And I tried so hard. I tried everything. I did everything I could. And it still wasn’t enough. In the dream I could feel everything again. The shame and the guilt. It being my fault.”
There’s a dead silence for a few beats.
Then Colt moves, and places his hand over mine.
“Elena,” he says softly, “that wasn’t your fault.”
I shake my head. “I know that logically, but—”
“No,” he interrupts, voice firmer now.
“It wasn’t your fault. At all. And any man who made you feel otherwise…he didn’t deserve you.”
Something inside me trembles.
He squeezes my hand.
“You’re not broken,” he says quietly. “You’re not less. And you’re definitely not alone. You’re amazing.”
My breath shudders.
“Colt…”
He shifts closer, lifting a hand to my cheek, not pushing for anything.
Just…offering warmth.
“You don’t have to tell me more,” he says. “But if you ever want to?”
His thumb brushes a stray tear away.
“I’m here.”
My chest aches—not the sharp, painful kind, but the fragile, tender kind. It feels like healing and fear tangled together.
I finally manage a small, shaky laugh. “Wasn’t expecting morning emotional support from my trainer.”
He smiles. Soft, earnest, devastating. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “I’m full of surprises.”
He leans his forehead gently against mine.
And for the first time in a long time…I feel safe.
Colt’s forehead is still resting against mine.
The room is quiet.
And then my phone lights up on the nightstand, buzzing.
I frown as I reach for it.
Colt watches my expression shift in real time.
The text reads:
Brandon (EX-HUSBAND): Hey. You still have that old watch my mom gave me. Think it’s in one of the boxes in your closet.
I can swing by later this week to grab it.
My stomach tightens, and Colt senses it immediately.
His voice is gentle. “Everything okay?”
“It’s just…” I swallow. “My ex. I wonder if that’s why I was dreaming about him. He was thinking about me.”
Colt’s eyes darken immediately.
“What does he want?”
“To get his stuff.” I roll my eyes. “It’s always one more thing with him.”
Colt stares at the phone like it personally insulted me.
Or worse—like he hurt me.
“Does he know you moved on?” he asks quietly.
“Of course he knows.” I say, brushing his chest lightly with the back of my fingers. “We’ve been over for a while now.”
“Ah, okay.”
“You’re a lot better than him in many departments. As I’ve said.”
His brows lift.
“Many departments?” he echoes, and his expression turns to a smirk.
I smirk. “Don’t make me list them.”
“I mean,” he says, leaning a shoulder into the doorframe, “feel free. If you’d like.”
I exhale a laugh and shrug like I’m teasing. Like I’m not teasing.
“Okay, fine. He was in shape. You clearly still are. He liked to solve problems. You fix them. You cook. He thought swagger was a personality. Yours actually is.”
A beat passes, though not a long one. Just long enough for the subtext to stretch like elastic warming up before it snaps back.
“And,” I add, eyebrow lifting into a dare, “let’s just say the upgrade isn’t purely emotional.”
He snorts a laugh, head rocking slightly, impressed despite himself.
He shakes his head slowly, disbelievingly, like he can’t decide whether to laugh, or let the moment barrel straight through us like a bull through a barn door.
I let my hand drift south, until I wrap my fingers around his thick girth.
“Mmm.”
“Elena,” he warns hazily, still smiling. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you take great care of me,” I whisper back, sweeter than intended.
He shakes his head slowly, disbelievingly, like he can’t decide whether to laugh…or lean in far enough to rewrite the atmosphere entirely.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, leaning closer, “Damien’s gonna kill me.”
Then he kisses me hungrily.
A low groan escapes his throat before he can swallow it.
My hands fly to his jaw, pulling him closer.
His fingers slide to my waist, then my back, tugging me against him. I melt. Completely. The heat radiating from him is intoxicating, and every nerve ending tingles with anticipation.
He breaks the kiss just barely, our breaths mingling, a tantalizing dance of need and excitement. “Tell me to stop,” he whispers, his tone husky and raw.
“Why, in any universe, would I do that at this point?” I breathe back, my heart racing, every part of me aching for more.
He looks at me like he’s trying desperately to be responsible… and failing spectacularly. “Goddamn,” he says again, voice rough, “you’re gonna ruin me.”
I smile, letting the heat of the moment engulf me. “Good.”
He laughs, one soft, disbelieving exhale, then wraps an arm under my legs and lifts me effortlessly. I gasp, hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the strength in his muscles as he holds me close.
“Which round is this?” he murmurs, a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Round whatever…” I kiss him once more, slow and certain. “I’m losing count.”
With that, he positions me on the bed, setting me down with a gentle push before settling between my legs. The softness beneath me contrasts with the hardness of the man’s muscles as he leans in, his mouth capturing mine again, this kiss deep and demanding.
As our mouths move together, his hands explore, sliding down my sides, savoring every curve. I can feel the hard planes of his body pressing against mine, and, yes—the thought of how much bigger he is than my ex—sends a thrill through me.
He rubs the outside of my wetness with his hard tip. Deliciously teasing me.
“Colt,” I whisper, the need in my voice undeniable.
He pulls back slightly, eyes burning into mine. “You want it?” he asks, his voice thick with desire.
“Yes,” I say, my heart racing in anticipation.
He grins, the kind of grin that promises mischief, then positions himself at my entrance, teasingly pressing against me. “You sure?” he challenges, and I nod, biting my lip, excitement coursing through me.
With a swift, deep thrust, he fills me completely.
“Ohh, fuck, baby.”
I gasp, the sensation overwhelming. He feels better, more intense than anything I’ve experienced before, stretching me, claiming me. My body instinctively arches into him, craving more.
“Jesus, Elena,” he breathes, thrusting again, harder this time, and I moan, the sound echoing throughout the room.
He sets a rhythm, powerful and commanding, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through me. Every time he drives into me, it feels like he’s hitting a spot I didn’t even know existed, igniting flames of ecstasy that build higher and higher.
“Tell me how it feels,” he demands, his voice a mix of desperation and need.
“It feels…incredible,” I gasp, my fingers digging into his arms, feeling the muscles flex beneath my touch. “So much bigger than my ex.”
He lets out a deep, primal groan at my words, his pace quickening, pushing me closer to the edge. “Good. I want you to remember this. You’re mine now.”
With each thrust, he captures my breath, his body moving with an intensity that leaves me breathless. I can feel the tension coiling tighter, ready to snap, and I know I’m close.
“Colt, I’m—”
“Let go, Elena,” he growls, his breath hot against my skin. “I want to feel you fall apart for me again. Let out those last two years.”
And with that, I shatter, waves of pleasure crashing over me as I cry out his name, my body arching beneath him. As I ride the crest of my climax, I feel him shift, his urgency increasing.
“Where do you want it?” he growls.
“Anywhere,” I moan.
“Open your mouth for me,” he murmurs, and I obey, anticipation coursing through me. Standing up on the bed, he guides me to my knees.
“Finish me off with your mouth.”
With that command, I eagerly take him in, feeling the heat and weight of him as I move, my lips wrapping around him.
He gasps, his hands tangling in my hair, guiding me as he thrusts deeper, the tension building between us.
Just as I feel him reaching his peak, he lets out a low growl, his release spilling into my mouth completely.
As we collapse together, our breaths mingling once more, I can’t help but smile against his chest, feeling utterly consumed—and utterly satisfied—by the incredible connection we’ve just shared. In this moment, nothing else matters.
This feels like we’ve crossed some line, but I wouldn’t change a thing.
Any repercussions are for weekday Elena to deal with.