Page 42 of Uxpectedly Ever After

She's sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring at the sonogram picture she's kept on her nightstand since the appointment. Her eyes are red, but her cheeks are dry. Even when she's upset, Clover hates letting anyone see her cry.

“I don’t think you’re irresponsible,” I say quietly from the doorway. “And I do trust you with our baby.”

She doesn’t look up. “Then why are you treating me like I can’t handle basic self-care? Like you’ve got to watch my every move?”

I step into the room, not sure how close I should get. "Because I'm terrified," I admit, the words torn from somewhere deep in my chest. "I'm so fucking scared, Clover."

That gets her attention. Her eyes snap to mine, confusion clear on her face. "Of what? You heard the doctor. Everything looks perfect."

“I’m scared of failing.” I run a hand through my hair, pacing the small space of her bedroom. "Of not being there when you need me. Of something happening to you or the baby when I'm not around to protect you."

"Banks—"

"I spent my entire childhood wondering if my dad was going to come home," I continue, the words pouring out now that the dam has broken. "Every shift, every call, wondering if this was the time he wouldn't make it back. And even when he was around, he wasn’t really there—he was either working, sleeping off a shift, or about to leave again. I barely knew him, Freckles."My voice breaks on her nickname. “I don’t want our kid feeling like that about me.”

She stands and comes toward me with a gentleness I don't deserve after how I've been acting. "That's not going to happen."

"You don't know that. My job—"

"Is dangerous, yes," she says, sliding her hands over mine and tangling our fingers. "But you're not your father, Banks. And I’m not telling you not to hover or worry—I’m just asking you to trust me a little. To let me breathe.”

The fight drains out of me all at once. “I’m hovering like a total psycho, aren’t I? The baby’s not even born and I’m already a helicopter parent.”

A small smile tugs at her lips. "At least you recognize it. That's the first step."

I tug her closer until my forehead rests against hers. “I just want to take care of you both,” I murmur.

“I know.” She pulls back enough to catch my gaze. “But you need to understand something. After my mom died, I spent years proving I could stand on my own two feet. That I didn’t need anyone. It made me stubborn—and maybe too independent sometimes—but it’s who I am.”

I exhale slowly, raking my hand through my hair. “So you want me to back off.”

“I’m telling you I need room to breathe,” she corrects. “That’s different.”

I can’t help a faint smirk. “You realize it’s physically painful for me to watch you struggle and not jump in to help, right?”

She squeezes my hand. “Just like it’s painful for me to accept help when I’ve spent so long proving I don’t need it.”

I stare at her for a long beat. She’s so damn gorgeous—stubborn and brilliant and unstoppable. “You’re actual sunshine, you know that?” I say. “Stubborn as hell, but the brightest thing in my life.”

She laughs under her breath. “And you’re a storm cloud, always hovering and threatening to rain all over my independence parade.”

I slide my arms around her waist. “Someone’s gotta carry an umbrella when you insist on dancing in the downpour,” I say, pulling her in until her head’s tucked under my chin and she’s snug against my chest. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack one day, Freckles.”

“And you’re gonna suffocate me under your giant, overprotective man-blanket of worry.”

I snort a laugh. “Man-blanket of worry?”

“Hey, give me shit all you want, but my creative brain power is currently being stolen by this.” She points at her stomach, but her lips are curving in a real smile now.

I cup her face, feeling the tension between us easing finally easing up. “All right, here’s the deal: I’ll try to tone down the overprotectiveness if you promise to ask for help before you’re about to collapse from exhaustion, okay?”

“Your proposal is acceptable,” she says, making her voice deeper to imitate the alien fromMen in Black,and then she cracks herself up. God, she’s fucking cute.

Eventually, she sobers, running her fingers along my stubble. “We’re both afraid of ghosts, aren’t we?”

“Yeah.” I swallow, nodding. “I’m scared of not becoming my father, and you’re scared of needing anyone. We make quite a pair, Freckles.”

She snuggles closer, tucking her head back under my chin. “We do, but we’ll figure it out.”

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