“What do you think you’re doing?” Heath asks as the door closes automatically and the elevator takes us up the building.

“Me?” I ask in outrage. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving you,” he says, without a hint of irony.

“I didn’t need any saving. I was doing fine on my own!” I insist.

“You obviously don’t know the limits of your own body. That’s why I have to be the one with the level head here.”

“I’ve told you again and again, I’m not as frail as you seem to think I am. And I do know my limits. A doctor, who’s just as legit as your doctor, told me I don’t need bed rest.” I challenge him with a glare. “What, you can’t admit there’s a possibility that you’re wrong?”

“I know I could be wrong,” Heath admits. “I deal with possibilities all the time in my work. There’s never a 100% chance that I’m making the right decision.”

“Then why can’t you let me make my own decisions?” I ask, frustrated. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

“I told you this morning, when it comes to you and our baby, I want to play it safe.” The way he says “our baby” makes my heart instantly melt—must be pregnancy hormones—but I press on.

This has been bothering me for a while. Ever since I fell in front of Heath’s parents’ house, I’ve never been allowed to make the kind of decisions most adults take for granted.

During the day, I can write and do whatever in the apartment, so it’s not too bad. But when Heath’s home, I can’t do anything. We’d just laze around on the couch or in bed, being sedentary.

There are moments when Heath’s protectiveness makes me feel precious and loved—something I’ve always craved since my father left us without an explanation. But at the same time, having relied on myself for so long, I bristle when someone tries to tell me what to do, and Heath does a lot of that.

“I know you want to keep me safe and healthy, and I appreciate that. But I’m still a human being, Heath, not a decoration or a pet that you can just confine to your home.”

Heath frowns. “Is that how you see it? You think I’ve been treating you like a thing, or an animal?” He runs his fingers through his hair, letting it fall messily across his forehead. “Fuck, I’ve never treated anyone better than I treat you, and that’s still not good enough?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” I raise my volume. “You pay me enough attention—and affection. Too much, even. I just—”

“Too much? Too fucking much?” Now it’s Heath’s turn to raise his voice. With his palm, he hits the emergency stop button on the silver panel by the door.

The elevator jerks to a stop, and I have to grab hold of the wooden railing to maintain my balance.

“What are you doing?” I ask, alarmed.

“We’re not done talking, and there’s someone in my office. A client from China.”

“Mr. Zhang is here?” I ask.

I’ve spoken to people from his Beijing office, and I know he’s been planning his visit for a long time. He agreed to let Anders Capital Management handle his investment portfolio before he even met Heath, deciding to choose this company based on its reputation and track record.

“Yeah,” Heath says.

“You should go back up to see him. He’s traveled a long way to see you.”

“We’re not done here. And I decide what to do with my business,” he says.

“I wasn’t even…” I stop and take a deep breath, worried I’ll say something I’ll regret. Anger simmers just beneath my skin. “Even you must see how unfair you’re being. You want me to stay quiet about how you run your business, but you make me do all kinds of things and expect me to obey just because you say so.”

“It’s all for your own good,” Heath says.

“Oh, so now you know what’s best for me?” I ask, my irritation growing despite my desire to end this argument. “You know what I need, better than I do?”

“When it comes to the bed rest, yes. Obviously, it’s safer for both you and our baby to stay home.”

“It’s not as obvious as you think. What about my second opinion?”

“Like I said, I just want to play it safe,” Heath repeats. We're just going in circles now. The words are starting to lose their meaning.

One side of this elevator is clear glass that lets us see out into the city. It should make this space feel generous. But right now—I don’t know if it’s because I’m angry or because we’ve been trapped here for too long—right now it feels too small. Suffocating.

“But is safety all that matters, Heath?” I ask. “What about what I want? Does that not factor into anything?”

“You want a healthy baby, don’t you?” Heath asks, his sharp gaze piercing through me.

“You don’t get it,” I say quietly.

“What don’t I get? All I’m doing is try to protect you, but that makes you angry.” Heath shakes his head. “I’m sorry I care about you.”

“You don’t get it!” I exclaim, my patience running out. “I’m not just a baby incubator, Heath. I’m a person, whom you supposedly love. You should care about what I want.”

“I do,” Heath says softly. He steps closer and touches my shoulder, but I jerk away.

I can’t… I don’t want anyone, or anything, to touch me right now. This elevator is already too small. I already feel like hyperventilating.

“Let me out of here,” I say in a small voice as my breathing gets more labored. I probably look pale right now.

“Are you okay?” Heath asks as he presses the button for me.

I remain quiet until the elevator door opens at the ground floor. There are still reporters milling around, probably exchanging notes and asking for more information from people who work in the building.

Heath won’t be able to make a scene now. He knows it’ll end up in the media and hurt both of us—and the baby too, by extension.

“I’m leaving.”

“I’ll see you at home,” Heath says, worry filling his blue eyes. “I’ll call you a cab, okay? Or should I take you home? I’ll take you home. Stay here, okay? I just want to go up there and let them know I’m going home. I won’t be long.”

I nod, knowing there’s less chance of complications this way.

But I don’t intend to do as he says. No way. Not this time.

I’m tired of living by Heath’s rules. I want to live my own life.

As soon as Heath leaves, I waddle across the lobby as reporters watch and take some more pictures. Outside, I hail a cab and tell the driver to take me to Jane’s.

I’m not going home to Heath tonight. Maybe never.