Page 80 of The Hotel Room

Slowly, hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure if she could meet his gaze.

Her eyes were wet, shining with unshed tears.

And James knew—deep in his chest—that he had broken something so precious, so fragile. And he hated himself for that.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Kate

The room was dark except for the faint glow of the moonlight pressing through the curtains. Soft shadows stretched across the walls, and the only sound was the quiet rhythm of James’s breathing behind her.

Kate lay awake, curled on her side, her body pressed into the familiar shape of his.

His chest was warm against her back, his breath a steady pulse near her neck, and one hand rested low and protective over her stomach, where the slight curve of her growing bump was just beginning to show.

It felt...comforting. Familiar. The way he had always held her during her pregnancies, like he needed to shield her. Like this was where hebelonged.

And yet—

The ache in her chest twisted deeper, sharp and relentless.

How can I feel safe in his bed…when he betrayed me?

The memory hit hard, flashing unbidden behind her eyelids.

That hotel room.

The too-bright lights.

The sound of skin against skin, the unbearablerealityof it.

James—herJames—pumping, thrusting himself into that woman.

He’d taken his ring off. She’d seen his hand on the woman’s hip, bare, no trace of the promise he’d made to her when they were just kids.

The ring hechoseto slip off when he chose to betray her.

And yet, here they were now.

In the same bed. His body wrapped around hers. His hand on her stomach where their baby grew, holding her like she was something fragile and precious.

Her throat felt tight, her breath uneven as she stared into the darkness.

She hated him.

And shelovedhim.

It was the most unbearable contradiction—this pull of anger and grief and longing.

Because despite everything...despite the pain...his presence still made her feel safer than anything else ever had.

How could that be?

How could he break me like that and still be the only person I want when I feel this vulnerable?

The baby slept beneath his palm. Their child. The child created between love and pain, tangled as deeply as the ache in her chest.

She didn’t know how long she lay there, caught between the past and the unbearable weight of the present.

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