Page 70 of The Hotel Room

Her breath was shaky, uneven. She shifted like she couldn’t quite get comfortable, her body curling inward slightly, protective.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. Measured.

“This doesn’t mean anything, James.”

The words cut—sharp, deliberate—but he nodded.

Heunderstood.

Because she wasn’t here for him. She was here for what heusedto be for her.

“I know,” he whispered, voice rough.

And he did. Because she was pregnant and he knew—better than anyone—what her body felt like during those months.

The way her back ached deep, low, the tension building until she couldn’t sleep.

She wasn’t asking for closeness. She wasn’t forgiving him. She needed relief.

And James—God, he wanted to be there for her inanyway she would let him.

Without another word, he shifted closer, inching behind her with careful, hesitant movements.

When his chest pressed gently to her back, he felt her stiffen—just for a heartbeat.

But then she exhaled, her body softening as he draped his arm low around her waist, just enough to cup her stomach.

The baby.

Their baby.

The ache in his chest deepened, but he stayed quiet, pressing his forehead lightly against the back of her shoulder.

He adjusted slightly, fitting his knee behind hers, angling his body in that way he remembered from her last pregnancy—the position that relieved the pressure in her back, the one that used to make her sigh with relief.

It had felt so natural then. So easy.

And now?

It felt fragile.

Like he was holding a version of her that was just barely trusting him not to break her all over again.

Kate didn’t speak.

Her breathing slowed, eventually, becoming deeper.

But James stayed awake.

Because for the first time in what felt like forever—

She was in his arms.

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The scent of coffee lingered in the kitchen, warm and familiar, but James barely tasted it as he sipped from his mug.

He hadn’t slept much.

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