Page 47 of Accidental Doctor Daddy

Ella

It hit me like a gut punch.

Not the question. The relief.

It was sharp and terrifying, the kind of relief that makes your stomach drop on a rollercoaster. The walls I’d built around myself—the ones that had kept me safe, that I thought were made of steel—cracked at the seams. For the first time in weeks, I could take a full breath.

And it felt like knives in my chest.

Because now it was out there.

He knew something was off, and there was no stuffing this back into the shadows.

Dom stood like a storm in the doorway, broad, commanding, every inch of him vibrating with restrained power. I couldn’t look away, but I also couldn’t step closer. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the hum of the city outside.

His dark eyes pinned me in place, sharp and unrelenting, waiting for the verdict. He wasn’t giving me room to dance around it or push him out.

He was here, and he wasn’t leaving without the truth.

I was trembling, knuckles white as I clenched my fists at my sides. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to be defiant. But all I felt was tired. So damn tired.

And the words slid from me in a voice that barely sounded like mine.

“They’re yours.”

Soft. Ragged. Irrevocable.

The second they left my lips, the air between us shifted. Tighter. Hotter. Like we were standing at the edge of a cliff and there was no going back.

For a moment, Dom didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, as if the room itself held its breath.

Then, slow and deliberate, he stepped toward me. And I braced myself for anger, for doubt, for accusations. But instead, he exhaled. Not harshly. Not sharply. Just a slow, measured breath, as if the weight of the words had been heavy, but not unexpected.

My heart hammered in my throat, wild and unsteady. His scent—clean soap, faint coffee, and something distinctly him—wrapped around me. The sheer size of him, the quiet power in his frame, made me feel cornered in the most electric way.

His eyes never left mine, dark and unreadable.

And when he finally spoke, his voice was a low, rough vow that sent a shiver racing down my spine.

“I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

Something inside me flared hot. Defiance. Sharp and molten, like I was nineteen again, daring anyone to cage me.

I squared my shoulders, tilting my chin up. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, Dom. Not now, not ever.”

His lips curved—not quite a smile, more like a shadow of one. Controlled. Calm. But there was something softer buried beneath the steel of his gaze. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then say what you mean,” I snapped.

He dragged a hand through his hair, then let it fall to his side, clenching briefly. “I mean…” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “I’m not walking away. I’m going to be in their lives. And if you let me… I want to be in yours, too.”

I froze.

I’d been ready for a fight. For custody threats or cold logic or some legal ultimatum. But this? The simple, honest vulnerability in his words knocked the breath from my lungs.

Me. He wanted me.

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