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"Okay," I whisper. "But just a nap."

He follows me to my bedroom, and I'm suddenly self-conscious about the space.

It's nothing special—just a bed with rumpled sheets, a dresser, curtains I keep closed.

But it's mine, and having him here feels intimate in a way that makes me nervous.

"I'll be right outside," he says, reading my hesitation.

"No." The word surprises us both. "I mean... you can stay. If we're doing this, I need to get used to... this."

He nods, understanding what I can't quite articulate.

"I'll sit here," he says, gesturing to the old rocking chair in the corner. "Sleep. I've got you."

I crawl into bed fully clothed, too exhausted to care about changing.

The mattress accepts my aching body, and I realize how bone-tired I really am.

Growing a baby while surviving abuse takes more energy than I have.

"Regnor?" I say as my eyes grow heavy.

"Yeah?"

"This is nice. Having someone here. Not being alone."

"Get used to it," he says softly. "You're not alone anymore."

I close my eyes, and for the first time in months—maybe years—I fall asleep without fear.

Without wondering if Dylan will show up.

Without jumping at every sound.

Because Regnor's here, watching over me and the little life inside me.

My protector. My pretend lover. My unexpected savior.

As sleep claims me, I hear him shift in the chair, settling in for however long I need.

The last thought before darkness takes me is how different this feels from Dylan's possessive presence.

This is what safety feels like.

This is what care looks like.

This is what I've been missing.

And tomorrow, we'll make the rest of the world believe it too.

But right now, in this moment, with him watching over us, I don't have to pretend anything.

The relief of that is enough to finally, truly, let me rest.

CHAPTER FOUR

Regnor