Chapter 15
Karey Justice
Declan Buchanan hasn’t left my side for longer than five minutes the last four days. We haven’t spoken, but I can sense his growing impatience.
But he didn’t leave. He didn’t complain when I bled all over the bed. Didn’t pull a disgusted face when I turned the bath water an ugly color. Didn’t hesitate to massage my belly or fetch me drinks. Didn’t argue when I refused to sleep unless he curled his massive body around mine.
He stayed.
Maybe—just maybe—he’ll stay when I tell him the truth. I shouldn’t hope for so much when he could so easily destroy me, but I can’t stop my foolish heart.
“We need to talk,” he says.
My heart sinks into my toes. I nod and scoot to the edge of the bed.
We should have this discussion at a more neutral location, but before I can stand, he walks around the bed and drops to his knees in front of me.
I stare in absolute shock as he sits back on his heels, places his hands on his thighs, and pierces my heart with apologetic eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I can’t breathe. Is he saying goodbye?
“It’s my fault,” he continues.
His fault? As in the lame break up excuse of ‘it’s not you, it’s me?’ Bile rises in my throat.
“I was an idiot for not thinking of all the potential outcomes and putting your health at risk,” he says.
I pause. His words don’t match my mental spiral.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“I swapped your birth control pills for placebos.”
I blink in confusion and parrot him back to try and make sense of his words.
“You swapped my birth control pills?”
“Yes, I did,” he confirms.
I still don’t understand.
Then the implications hit me like a freight train. I cover my face with my hands and force air in and out of my lungs.
“You swapped my birth control pills. When?” I ask into my hands.
“At the beginning of this month,” he says.
I shake my head.
He pries my knees apart and wedges his big, hard body between them. His ribs shift against my thighs from his labored breaths.
“I’m sorry, Karey. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have messed with your medication for any reason, much less for something so selfish,” he implores.
A half-scoff half-sob breaks from my chest.
“You didn’t cause this, Declan. I haven’t had my period in months even on the pills. This was overdue,” I manage.
He wraps thick fingers around my wrists but doesn’t pull my hands away from my face.
“I don’t care if it was my fault or not. I shouldn’t have done it. Please forgive me,” he grovels.
“Did you swap them because you wanted to get me pregnant?”
His pause tells me I’m right. A sob wrenches from my chest.
“Karey, what’s wrong?” he asks.
I shake my head.
He tugs my wrists. I shake my head harder.
“Whatever it is, I don’t care, cupcake. Just tell me so we can figure it out together,” he begs.
I drop my hands and reveal to him the sorrow in my soul.
“I can’t give you babies. I mean, I physically could, but getting pregnant is highly unlikely, and I’d be high risk from the very beginning. I don’t want to get my hopes up only to have half a dozen miscarriages and no baby, and expecting you to go through that is too cruel. I can’t—”
He wraps his arms around me and buries his face between my breasts.
“Then we won’t have kids,” he mumbles into my bosom.
“Declan,” I accuse.
“Fine. We’ll adopt,” he snarls and mouths my sensitive flesh through my top.
“You can’t just change your entire outlook on life because of one—”
“Yes I can. I just did. Nothing is more important than keeping you by my side,” he growls.
My insides melt, but that just grosses me out since I’m still bleeding heavily. I scoff and tug his hair.
He groans and nips the underside of my breast. I gasp and squeeze his ribs with my thighs.
“That’s it? No questions? No explanations?” I pour my skepticism into my voice.
“We have our entire lives to hash out what happened when we were apart. For now, I just want to know how I can help you feel better,” he mumbles with his face still buried in my breasts.
“Honestly, I feel gross and don’t want to be turned on right now,” I admit.
He leans back with unrepentant, sorrowful eyes and sighs.
“I also want you to know it’s called PMOS and it took me until last year to find a doctor willing to diagnose me.
You may not believe it, but my symptoms have gotten better, and at least now I don’t have a doctor who gaslights and tells me to lose weight as if that will magically make all my symptoms disappear. ”
He leans forward and wraps his arms tighter around my lower back but doesn’t disappear into my cleavage again.
“Thank you, cupcake.”
I nod, but my mouth betrays me.
“Are you sure this is okay? I—”
“Marry me, Karey.”
“I… what?”
“Marry me.”
“Wait. Declan, your grandmother wants—”
“My grandmother doesn’t get to dictate our lives. She said she wants to see me happy. You make me happy.”
Joy threatens to overflow my heart.
“She wants great-grandbabies,” I blurt.
“Then we’ll adopt.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to be a mom.”
I curse my wayward mouth.
Thick fingers wrap around my nape and ensure I give him all my attention.
“My grandmother knows I will have you and only you. She can make her peace with that or she can find another grandson,” he growls.
My chest aches from holding my breath. I exhale and lean down to press my forehead against his.
“You’re a beast,” I whisper.
“I’m your beast. Will you marry me?”
I swallow and nod.
He growls my name in warning.
“Yes, Declan. I will marry you,” I whisper.
He captures my head in his hands and steals my breath with a sensual kiss.
He hasn’t said the words, but I don’t need them. I can feel his love for me in the way he cares for me.
I love Declan Buchanan.
I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him.