Page 50 of Ex's Accidental Baby

It feels oddly surreal.

I ring the doorbell twice, but no one answers, and when I try the door, it’s open.

Having a gated estate means you don’t lock all the doors, I guess.

“Meredith?” I walk into the foyer.

My voice echoes in the big house. I know she’s here, saw her sedan parked behind the garage.

“Meredith, the door was open.”

But she doesn’t respond.

I walk into the living room to see her curled up on the wraparound couch, her eyes puffy, a wastebasket next to her head.

“Oh, princess.” I walk toward her and sit right next to her head.

She shifts in her sleep, groaning and holding her stomach.

“Probably one of those twenty-four-hour bugs.” I’m talking more to myself than to her, because she’s dead asleep despite her whining.

I brush her hair back from her face and lift her up, carrying her upstairs to her room, kicking the door open. I cradle her in one arm while pulling back the duvet with the other hand, sliding her into bed.

I place a new wastebasket next to her head and stroke her hair a little more.

Her skin’s clammy instead of fevered, so maybe it’s food poisoning.

“Poor baby.”

I slide into bed beside her, pulling her back toward me.

She wiggles against me, slowly waking, blinking slowly.

“Logan? What are you doing here? Am I dreaming?”

“Would it be a good dream?”

She turns onto her back, narrowing her eyes at me. “Depends on if I throw up again.”

“Something you ate?”

“Something like that.” Her mutter is half-asleep, and she’s dozing again within minutes. Whatever she’s sick with, it’s really taking it out of her.

I start to get up, and Meredith whimpers. I chuckle, kissing her temple.

“Just going to get you a wet cloth.”

She doesn’t protest, but she clutches at me when I get up, and I hurry to wet a cloth, bringing it back and draping it over her forehead.

She sighs. “That feels good.”

“How long have you been this sick? Should we go to the urgent care?”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine. I’ve been drinking water and keeping some crackers down.”

I frown, looking her over.

She looks terrible, so pale she’s almost gray.

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