Page 123 of When Love Found Us
And then he exhales, his hands smoothing over my back, his lips pressing against my temple, my jaw, my mouth.
“I never thought this would happen to me,” he whispers, voice hoarse, filled with something so deep it roots me to him. “I never thought love would find me. Not here, not ever, but thank fuck it’s you. You who owns me and my heart.”
I close my eyes, sinking into him, sinking into this moment, into the way he holds me like I’m his whole world. Because I am his, and just like him, I never thought love would find me.
I never thought I would fall in love with a protective, caring man who might be broody some days, but loving and generous all the time.
“I love you so much, Atlas Timberbridge.”
“I love you more, baby.”
ChapterForty-Six
Blythe
At thirty-seven weeksand four days, I am officially a walking countdown.
Everywhere I go, I get the same questions.
“How are you feeling?”
Like my body is stretched beyond its limits, like every inch of me belongs to someone else now—someone tiny, demanding, and currently using my bladder as a pillow. It’s the blessing and the curse of living in a beautiful but very nosy small town.
“Any signs she’s coming soon?”
If constant kicking, Braxton Hicks contractions, and an insatiable craving for crushed ice count, then yes.
“Are you nervous?”
That’s easy to respond though. I’m beyond nervous. Terrified. But also . . . ready.
At least, I think I’m ready to meet this little one. The reality of her arrival feels closer now, pressing into my ribs with every shift and stretching inside me. Everly. Our daughter. Atlas’s tiny obsession and my entire world, already.
Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night to find him rubbing my belly, murmuring to her in that low, reverent voice that makes my chest squeeze. He tells her about his day, about the stars outside her window, about how much he loves her already.
She has him wrapped around her little, unborn fingers.
It still hits me sometimes—the whiplash of where I was six months ago. Hiding. Running. Fighting for a future, I didn’t even know I could have.
And now?
Now, I’m home.
Not just safe—but somewhere that feels like it was built just for me. With a man who would burn the world down for me and a daughter who is already stealing all his sleep.
“You shouldn’t be carrying that.” Atlas’s voice grumbles behind me, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I glance up from my spot in the baby store, holding a bag with the softest onesies I could find. “Atlas, it’s literally a few ounces.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Before I can protest, he’s already taking it from me, stuffing it into the cart. His brow is furrowed, mouth set in that stubborn line that should annoy me, but only makes my heart do something ridiculous.
Across from us, Nysa smirks, whispering loudly, “He’s been like this all day, hasn’t he?”
Simone hums in agreement. “If you let him, he’ll probably carry you out of the store too.”
Atlas does not deny it.
