67. Kate
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Kate
The house was finally quiet. Gwen had gone home hours ago, after pressing a final kiss to my cheek and promising she’d “handle the vultures” if she had to.
It was just me and Jordan now, curled up on the sofa in the low light of the living room.
My eyes were swollen, sore from crying, and my body felt wrung out like a cloth.
I was lying with my head in his lap, his hand resting protectively over my bump. He kept running his hands gently through my hair, muttering that he loved me, like if he said enough gentle things it would undo the day. And then, against his palm, our son kicked. Once, then again, strong and sure.
Tears pricked my eyes for the hundredth time, but these were different. “He’s okay,” I whispered, clutching Jordan’s wrist. “I was so scared I’d harmed him today.”
Jordan bent down and kissed my temple, his voice rough with emotion. “He’s tougher than both of us put together. Takes after his mum.”
I smiled weakly. The kicks kept coming, steady and reassuring, like he was reminding me he was still there. Still safe.
Jordan’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He reached for it, still stroking my belly with his other hand. “Matt,” he said quietly, reading the message. Relief softened the tension in his jaw. “Article’s been pulled. Statement’s live. Lawyers are handling it.”
I let out a long, jagged breath and nodded with the sheer relief of his words.
A few minutes later, Chris and Maggie called.
Jordan put them on speaker, and Maggie’s voice was warm and firm in the no-nonsense way only she could be.
“Kate, don’t you dare read the comments.
I did it for you already. It’s wall-to-wall support.
Everyone’s tearing the article apart, calling it disgusting. The public’s on your side.”
My throat tremored. “Really?”
“Really,” Maggie said. “Honestly? They love you. They love that you’re not pretending to be anything other than yourself. They love how Jordan looks at you. People aren’t stupid, they know a love story when they see it.”
After we hung up, I just lay there against his chest, listening to the sound of Jordan’s heartbeat under my ear.
I thought about Cali and Miami, the endless travel, the cameras, the scrutiny.
The truth was, I didn’t have the strength for it right now.
Not with a baby kicking inside me that I needed to focus on, not with my face splashed across headlines for all the wrong reasons.
“I think I should stay here,” I murmured, almost afraid to say it aloud. “Skip America. Just…lie low for a while. Let it all blow over.”
Jordan didn’t hesitate. His hand tightened around mine. “Then we do that. Whatever makes you feel safe, babe.”
And for the first time that day, I felt like I could breathe.