I meant what I said to him when I told him I didn’t want to be alone. I’m just not sure if I can trust him not to leave when things get as bad as I know they’re going to be.

This is all a little too much like last time. James said almost the exact same words to me—telling me he’d never leave me, that he’d never let anything happen to me. Why can’t William understand that this is much bigger than either of us?

He seems to read my doubts, lifting his hands to cup my cheeks. “We don’t have to do anything. Let me…let me take you out.”

I frown. “William, I—”

“Just for something to eat. No other expectations. Just somewhere we can share a meal and talk.”

I search his eyes for a moment. This is what I want. He is what I want. If I have any chance at all of keeping the lives that grow inside me, I have to allow myself to trust him again. I’m just not completely convinced that it’s the best idea.

Even though my stomach is still churning with nausea—and more than a bit of fear—I give him a slight nod.

He grins. “Anywhere you like. We’ll go to the nicest restaurant in this town. Or wherever you want. Just name it—French, Italian—”

“Oatmeal,” I interrupt.

“Oatmeal?” His eyebrows draw together. “Justine, I meant it when I said you can choose anywhere you want—”

“That’s what I want.” I clutch my stomach. “It really isn’t so much that I want it. It’s more that oatmeal is the only thing I seem to be able to hold down besides water for any length of time.”

He grins, dropping his hands and pulling mine into his. “Then we’ll share a meal of oatmeal—”

“I’m sure they serve other things. I…I’ve been mostly ordering carry-out. Bringing it back here to eat. From a diner, just a short walk from here. The smell of the cooking meat…” I shake my head. “Maybe it’s best if we don’t go out.”

“I can go get it for you. Just like I said I would—I’ll do anything for you. Anything at all.”

I look up at him again for a long moment. So many emotions are tumbling around inside me, I’m not sure what I’m feeling. Some combination of trepidation and something else…happiness, maybe. It seems a little early for that, given that William has just come back into my life, but maybe… It’s more than I can allow myself to hope for.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes. Unless…” He pauses, giving me a hopeful smile. “Unless you’d like to join me? I can’t keep you from the scents, but I’d prefer to have your company. Only if you’re feeling up to it, of course.”

“I will. Join you, I mean. I can take one of my nausea pills…” I motion to the counter where the pill bottle stands. “They help.”

He gives me an encouraging nod, and I go to take the medicine. A moment after I swallow, he has my hand in his, and he leads me out of my dormitory and out to the street.

It’s a chilly night, and I pull my coat tighter. William drops my hand, pulling me closer to him. My eyes flutter closed for a single moment as a pulse of electricity burns through me at his touch—this is how we are meant to be.

Together.

We walk to the diner with no words between us—none seem to be needed, at least not at this moment. If it could always be like this, things would be perfect. If I didn’t have to worry about my family or their hatred of the man holding me, we could live like this forever.

We make it to the diner, and as William opens the door, the scent of cooking meat—probably hamburger—almost knocks me over. My medication hasn’t quite kicked in yet, and the wave of nausea that hits me almost feels large enough to drown me.

“Justine…”

“I’ll be okay,” I lie. I’m already barely holding down the vomit I can feel in my throat. “We should…sit.” I’m not even sure why I’m doing this, other than some strange need to feel normal, even if it’s only for a moment.

He seems to sense it, too, giving me a weak nod as he leads me to a booth in the back of the restaurant, as far from the grill as possible. “We can leave whenever you want.”

“I’ll be okay,” I repeat, probably more to try to convince myself than to convince him.

The waitress comes over to take our order. William looks at me, then up at her, then back at me. “I think we’ll both have a bowl of your finest oatmeal.”

The woman looks between us, frowning. “Oatmeal? You sure?”

William gives her something of a dismissive nod, and the woman shrugs, writing something on the small pad of paper she holds in her hand.

“This is nice.” He grins at me. “We should do this more often.”

“Mm.” I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I’m going to throw up all over the table.

“Dating, I mean. When you’re feeling better, I can take you somewhere a little…nicer, perhaps. There’s a lovely restaurant in New York City that Leopold was recommending to me a few months ago.”

I can only nod. William seems to understand what’s going on and stops trying to engage me in conversation for a few minutes, instead pulling my hand into his and holding it on the table between us.

After a few minutes, William drops my hand and stands. “I’m going to get our food to go.” His brow furrows. “You look… I can tell you aren’t feeling well.”

I suppose I’m not such a good actress. “I’m sorry. The pill should have started working by now.”

He shrugs. “We can eat together in your dormitory. And Justine… If I’d known you were feeling this bad, we could have stayed there.”

I nod, unsure what I can say to him.

“You don’t have to pretend to be well for my benefit.” He gives me a small smile before walking toward the front of the restaurant.

A few minutes later, William returns to the table with a bag in his hand. He extends his other hand to me, helping me out of my seat, and we leave.

The cold air outside makes me feel instantly better, and I turn to him. “I think…I think it’s just the enclosed space with the food smells that makes me sick. I’m feeling much better now.”

“Good.” He grins, saying nothing else as we walk back to my dormitory.

We’re back inside within a few minutes, and he sets the bag on the counter. He turns back to me, smiling. “You are looking much better now. Next time you’re feeling ill, we can try going outside to see if it helps.”

Next time. It’s still hard to believe that he might be here if there is a next time.

He cocks his head, his smile changing from one of his grins to something a little more seductive. “Are you hungry?”

“Not particularly.” I can see by the way he’s looking at me that he’s hungry for something else. “William, we should talk. I should tell you—”

“We have the rest of our lives to talk.” He takes a step toward me. “I assume your microwave oven will reheat this oatmeal?”

“I…suppose.” I take a step back. “I… There are things we should discuss.”

“There’s nothing left to discuss. I’m here, and I’m not leaving. You’re going to have to get used to that. I’m going to be here with you forever.”

Something about the way he says it sends a pulse of fear through me. Forever seems like an awfully long time. And he still doesn’t know the awful truth of my past.

But then he takes another step toward me, and I’m sure forever only means the same thing to him as it meant to James. It means fucking him tonight. It doesn’t mean anything else.

“I’ve missed you. More than I can say. But I can show you—”

I shake my head to interrupt. “You should go. I…I don’t want to sleep with you. I can’t give you what you want. Not tonight.”

He takes another step toward me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “The only thing I want is you, Justine. Not to…fuck you. Just to hold you in my arms again. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

My brow furrows. I’m a little shocked that he’s being so narcissistic about this. “William. I do believe that you are not the only one—”

“I…I didn’t mean it that way. I don’t know what it is about you, but my words don’t come out the way I mean them. I wish I could just sit you down and say everything I need to say without screwing it up in the process.”

“Maybe you should try writing it, then. I know my words come out a lot closer to the way I mean them when I write them down.”

Something softens in his face, and he smiles. Not the goofy, thinking-about-sex grin that he had a moment ago, but something genuine. “If I could write like you, I would. Believe me, my writing is probably worse than my speaking. Ask any of my old tutors.” He slides his hand down my arm to take my hand in his. “The only thing I know with absolute certainty… The only thing I can say that I know will not come out wrong is…” He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. “I love you.”

The wrenching in my chest seems to melt away in an instant at his words. I could give myself to him—I could love him for eternity and never think about another thing again.

“Please, Justine…” He dips his head, looking into my eyes. “Will you let me love you?”

My eyes fill with tears. I know it’s the hormones—I know my brain isn’t functioning properly at the moment. But I give him a nod that might not even be perceptible, I’m so frozen in place.

He takes my other hand in his and guides me to the bed. We sit on the edge in silence for a moment, and he slips an arm around my waist. “I’ve missed holding you.”

I give another slight nod. I want to tell him how much I’ve missed being held—how feeling his touch now sends a pulse through me that I’ve never known before. It isn’t so much an electric feeling—it isn’t about lust, that much I’m sure of. It’s something warmer, deeper.

“We don’t…we don’t have to do anything else. Unless you want to, of course.”

I can’t tell him that sex is about the last thing I’ve been thinking about. I’ve had this deep yearning for the past several weeks—in between my bouts of vomiting—but I hadn’t been able to put my finger on what it was until this moment. And perhaps it was only a lack of human contact, but it seems to be something much more than that.

The lack of William’s contact.

I can’t turn to look at him—I keep my gaze on one of the knobs on the dresser in front of us. “I’ve missed you, William.”

His arm tightens around me. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“But…” I bite my lip to stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks. “I—”

“I know.”

“You don’t know. I—”

“You’re frightened. And rightfully so. And I’ll tell you again, I’ll protect you. I’ll—”

“William.” I interrupt, still unable to meet his gaze. “That isn’t what I was going to say.”

“You’re not frightened?”

I finally turn to face him. “Of course I’m frightened. I just learned I’m pregnant, and I’m completely alone—”

“You aren’t alone now.”

“For the moment. Who’s to say you won’t decide you know what’s best for me again? Who’s to say after you bed me, you’ll decide I’m better off without you?”

“I’m giving you my word—”

“And did you not give me your word when you married me?”

He frowns, releasing his grasp to fold his hands in his lap. “I’ll apologize to you every day—every hour—for the rest of my life if I need to.” He shakes his head. “It was a mistake, letting you go. I should have fought—”

“You didn’t give me the opportunity to fight for us, William.”

He nods to himself a few times as he stares down at his clasped hands. “I deserve your punishment. I deserve whatever it is you feel you need to do. But I don’t know what else to say. I’ve offered to marry you again, and that offer still stands—”

“I’ll not be marrying you because I’m pregnant. If you’re feeling some sense of obligation now—”

“But I do.” He looks up at me. “Feel obligated, that is. I am obligated. I’ll do whatever it takes—”

“I don’t…” I let out a long sigh. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve been…waffling.”

He nods a few times. “It’s understandable. You thought you would be alone. But things are different now.”

“Because you’ve been back in my life for a few hours?” I tilt my head, frowning. “William, you can’t honestly think I’m going to believe you.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, shaking his head. He opens them again and returns his gaze to mine. “If I have to spend eternity trying to convince you, I will. I’m not giving up this time.”

“Because of my pregnancy.”

“Because of our child. Yes.” He shakes his head. “Perhaps if you start thinking of it that way…” He glances at my midsection. “If you start calling it your baby—our baby—it will make it more real.”

Babies. I can’t tell him that. Not now—not yet, anyway.

“But, Justine…” He pulls my hand into his again. “Please remember that I came here for you. For us. I didn’t know about our child until a little while ago. I came here because I wanted to profess my love for you. And that stands, regardless of anything else.”

I should admit—at least to myself—that this whole notion of him coming halfway across the world to announce his love for me is romantic. But I suppose my thoughts are still not quite clear on the entire matter.

My shoulders drop, again defeated. “William, I don’t think I can do this.”

“You don’t have to. Not alone, at any rate. I’ll be here for you every moment—”

I gently pull my hand from his. “I don’t mean the pregnancy—”

“Our baby—”

“My pregnancy.” I frown. “I’ve missed you. I’ll admit it—I admitted it before. But…”

“There is no but.” He pulls my hand into his again, kissing my knuckles. “I love you. And we’re together now. That’s all that matters.”

“How am I supposed to trust that, though? You told me you loved me before, and you still left. And I know…” Tears fill my eyes again. “I know I deserved it. I know I treated you terribly, and you had every right to walk away.”

“Justine…” I could swear I hear tears in his own voice. “I only did what I did—”

“I know. Out of a sense of duty.” I pull my hand away again. “But the timing… I mean, we had finally found some sort of peace—”

“Our families hadn’t. And it was the right thing to do at that moment.”

“I disagree. You’d accused me on many occasions of not wanting to fight for our marriage. But when the opportunity arose for you to end it—the first opportunity—you took it. You took the easy route. The route with no consequences. You got what you wanted, William.”

“I did not—”

“You did, though.” I stand, backing toward the door. “You got exactly what you wanted. And for as much as I might have hurt you during our brief marriage, you got to make the final cut. You got to deliver the fatal blow.”

“Justine…” He rises, walking toward me. “That isn’t how it was—”

“It is how it was. And it doesn’t matter what’s happening now. This…” I fold my hands over my abdomen. “This doesn’t matter.” I take another step away from him. “What matters—the only thing that matters—is that you broke my heart. And I can’t…” I shake my head at him a few times. “I won’t let you do it again.”