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The mattress dips, and I hold my breath, pretending to be fast asleep. Slowly, the heat radiating from him cloaks the whole bed, and my muscles are able to relax into what feels like a waking dream. I have my back to Archer, but I can sense him lying on his pillow glaring at the ceiling. After a few minutes, he shifts to his side. But he doesn’t stay like that for long before he switches back to staring heavenward.

“Fuck,” he says under his breath.

He rolls over and scoops me into his arms, holding me tight. His naked body feels like heaven next to mine. “Go to sleep, Little Dove,” he orders.

“Hmm.” A sleepy moan escapes my lips as I curl next to him, throwing my leg over his thighs and sliding my hand up his abs and chest. He’s all hard muscle and smooth skin.

It isn’t normal that he’s fighting this when it feels so good to be together.

* * *

The next morning,the landline ringing wakes me up. I sit up, looking for Archer, but he’s gone. Rubbing my eyes, I grab the speaker. “Hello?”

“Good morning, Mrs. Archer.” Mary Jane’s voice is all cheery and full of energy.

I get the sense that she’s happy Archer and I are finally sleeping in the same room. We are far from being fine or being a married couple. But now that I have decided to stay, I have all the time in the world to one, figure out what Archer is hiding, what requires him to keep his guard up all the time. And two, convince him that loving me doesn’t have to hurt. I can see he’s hurting. I just don’t know why.

“Good morning,” I greet her.

“Mr. Archer already left for the office,” she announces.

“Of course he did,” I say with so much disappointment in my chest. But what did I expect? That now that we’ve had sex, we would be doing it like bunnies. Okay, fine. Yeah. That’s exactly how I thought it would go.

“He asked me to make sure you were up in time for your appointment. I’ll bring your breakfast in a few minutes so you can eat before you get ready.” She says in a single breath.

“I’m sorry, what?” I squint at her even though she can’t see me. “What appointment?”

“A gynecologist will be seeing you today.” She says each word with measured caution.

Of all the high-handed things Archer has ever done. This easily tops them all. He called me a doctor? And made an appointment on my behalf? I place a hand over my forehead, trying to ignore the deep embarrassment I feel over this.

“I could’ve gone to her office,” I say.

Mary Jane clears her throat. “Mr. Archer feels you need your rest to recover from the fall.”

I feel perfectly fine. But I decide not to argue or even dwell on the fact that Archer is back to treating me like a prisoner. It’s like we took one step forward and three steps back.

“Okay, so how does this work? Will this doctor just come to my bedroom?” That feels way too intimate.

“Yes, she will meet you in your old bedroom.” Mary Jane’s happy tone is gone. Good, at least she realizes this situation is highly irregular. If not, a straight-up, total disregard and invasion of my privacy. “If you’re still feeling tired, I’m sure Mr. Archer will understand if you need to re-schedule.”

I open my mouth to say I want to cancel indefinitely but then remember Archer and I had sex last night without birth control. Oh crap. “No, it’s fine. I’ll meet with her. Thank you.”

As soon as I hang up, I jump to my feet and head for the bathroom to wash up. I’ve seen a gynecologist before. Dr. Sloan sees most of the dancers at my ballet company. Many times before, she’s offered me birth control. She assumed that after I turned eighteen, I would start being sexually active. But she didn’t know about Dad’s strict rules around dating or going out with boys. Mainly that I wasn’t allowed to do any of that.

Not until I met Hunter. Dad hit it off with him right away. It was his idea for us to go out on our first date. Unfortunately, Hunter shared Dad’s same outdated opinions when it came to women and sex. He wanted to wait until we were married. Thing was, I never wanted to marry him.

But now here I am, married and possibly pregnant.

I cradle my stomach, smiling. A baby with Archer. Yet another thing I never considered until him.

A knock on the door pulls me out of my reverie. “Come in,” I say.

Mary Jane comes in with my tray and sets it on a round table facing the terrace. A huge improvement from the small writing desk in the other room. I eat the breakfast of toast and avocado with black coffee. Then, go downstairs to wait for my appointment in my bathrobe. Oddly enough, even though the terry robe covers way more than the gown at Dr. Sloan’s office, I feel strangely exposed.

“Hello.” The doctor knocks on the door and opens it at the same time. “I’m Dr. Fern.”

“Hi. I’m Paloma. Nice to meet you.” I rush to meet her at the threshold. “I’m sorry you had to make the trip out here.”