Page 69 of Protected By the Sinner
“Why?” He remains stone cold, his voice coming out like shards of ice. And it breaks me.
I feel like I can’t breathe, and I walk to the window, turning my back to him. Tears stream down my cheeks, and I can’t hide how hurt I am by his distant behavior.
“Amber.”
“Just . . . give me a second. It’s just . . . this whole thing . . . the two of us . . .”
To my humiliation, I can’t even form a complete sentence. The emotions that have been playing with my head since I woke up leave me feeling fragile and exposed.
I hear his footsteps approaching and want to tell him to stay away, but I don’t say anything.
I can feel him standing behind me, but I don’t turn around. I’m too sad, and I don’t want this rich stranger to see how much power he has over me.
Then he surprises me—wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me from behind.
“You don’t have to comfort me.”
“I don’t want you to cry.”
“I’m not doing it on purpose. I just . . . I feel so unsure.”
“Look at me.”
I shake my head. “I must look awful when I cry.”
“That’s impossible. You’re beautiful no matter what.”
It’s the first kind thing he’s said since he walked in, and I turn in his arms. “I want to ask you something, and I need you to be honest.”
I don’t even care if I’m embarrassing myself. I know I don’t remember anything, and as far as I know, I don’t have anyone else in my life but him. But the doctor said I might be discharged today, and I won’t follow a man who—regardless of what anyone tells me—I don’t really know, unless he truly wants the two of us.
“Do you want us? Me and our baby? Because you don’t have to take care of me just because I don’t remember anything. The doctor said my memory could come back at any moment.”
“No. You’re not going anywhere. I want both of you.”
Even after he says that, I still don’t feel certain he actually likes me.
So I pull away from his arms.
“I think it’s best if we wait a few days before we talk about this again.”
Chapter 31
No fucking rules.
That’s what being with Amber does to me.
It doesn’t matter how much I prepared myself to keep everything under control when we saw each other again. The moment I saw her standing there in that hospital room, trusting me, looking at me like I had all the answers she couldn’t remember, the images of her talking to those Italians just vanished from my mind.
I still tried to act indifferent, but fuck . . . she’s beautiful, and she messes with me like no one else ever could.
She doesn’t remember, but she’s still incredibly sensitive to my every reaction. I noticed how protectively she wrapped her arms around her own body, like she needed to shield our baby from me.
That hit me hard.
I felt joy, knowing that no matter what, she’s already defending our child. But also shame—shame that I made her feel like she needed protection from me.
“Were we happy about our baby, Beau? Can I call you that?”
