Page 96 of Single Dad's Fake Bride
"Right. Of course you did." I set down the mug, suddenly exhausted. "I think I'll turn in early tonight."
Harrison studied me for a long moment, and I could feel him choosing his words carefully. "Okay. Sleep well."
I made it to the bedroom and was turning down the covers when I heard his footsteps in the hallway. He appeared in the doorway, already pulling his shirt over his head.
The sight of his bare back made me freeze. He moved carefully, favoring his left side, and when he reached behind to rub his lower back, I saw him wince.
Guilt crashed over me. "Harrison."
He looked over his shoulder. "Hmm?"
"Your back. It's hurting again, isn't it?"
"It's fine."
"It's not fine. You're in pain." I moved toward him, then stopped myself. "I should sleep on the floor tonight. Or the couch."
"Sadie, no."
"You need the space. You need to be able to stretch out properly."
He turned to face me fully, his expression serious. "I said no."
"But your back?—"
"Will be fine." He stepped closer, and I caught the faint scent of his soap, clean and familiar. "The floor is fine."
I shook my head. "I can't keep making you uncomfortable in your own home."
Before I could retreat, he caught my hand, his fingers warm against mine. With gentle pressure, he guided me toward the bed.
"Harrison—"
"Trust me." He pulled back the covers and waited until I reluctantly climbed in, then tucked the blanket around my shoulders with careful attention. The mattress dipped as he settled beside me, maintaining the careful space we'd grown accustomed to before I made him sleep on the floor last night.
In the darkness, his voice was barely above a whisper. "My sleeping here doesn't have to mean anything, okay?"
My heart twisted, because that was exactly the problem. I wanted it to mean everything. And when the tears came, I had to use every ounce of strength in my body not to shake the bed or make a sound when I cried. I couldn’t even tell him I loved him back because I was too afraid to let go and risk my heart being destroyed again.
My father did a number on me, worse than I ever imagined, and now I was about to upset Harrison's whole world. I was pregnant, lying about how much I wanted him, and confused about everything.
27
HARRISON
The courthouse steps rose before me. My chest felt tight, breaths shallow. Mr. Blackwood walked beside me, but his words faded into background noise. All I could think about was Eloise at home, probably curled up with one of her books, completely unaware of this mess I had created.
I'd worn my best suit, the charcoal one Sadie said made my eyes look less severe. She had straightened my tie this morning, her fingers gentle against my collar. The memory of her touch burned now. How could I have dragged her into this?
The courthouse doors opened to reveal my nightmare. Margot sat primly at a polished table next to her lawyer who shuffled papers with theatrical importance. Caroline perched beside her, spine rigid in that familiar Vale way. They both looked ready to dissect me piece by piece, though Caroline appeared more compassionate, even regretful.
My throat constricted. These were my sisters. The girls who used to sneak into my room during thunderstorms when we were children. Now they sat across from me prepared to destroy everything I had.
Judge Morrison entered, and the room fell silent. His weathered face revealed nothing. Blackwood had warned me about Morrison's reputation. The man had no patience for anything that smelled of deception.
Margot's lawyer stood to speak. I forced myself to listen, but my mind kept drifting to this morning. Sadie had made pancakes for Eloise, humming under her breath while she worked. Janet had shuffled into the kitchen in her robe, complaining about the noise. Normal family chaos. The kind I had never experienced as a child.
"—pattern of calculated decisions designed to circumvent the true intent?—"
