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When I opened my eyes, I found him leaning against the sterile white wall by the door. As if sensing me, his gaze met mine. Thankfully, he was in clothes now: a simple white t-shirt and jean pants that strangely fit him perfectly. There was a saying that the eyes were the windows to the soul. Well, I’d made peace for a long time with the fact that my husband had his eyes carved from stone. It was either that, or when you looked deep enough, no matter how hard you tried, there was no soul to see.

No emotions, nothing.

But now….

Now, it was different.

His brows twitched when his gaze touched my face. The coldness that had been there before I opened my eyes melted like wax over a flame, and the deepest frown formed on his lips. Normally, he wouldn’t have bothered with a reaction; what he offered was what I got. I wondered why, suddenly, he looked like he cared.

Or maybe I hit my head hard when I fell, and now, I was imagining things.

Glaring at him, I moved my eyes away from him and focused on the female doctor, who seemed more interested in sharing whatever news she had with my husband than with me. She looked young and pretty, with long chestnut-brown hair and gray eyes. Other than the fact that she appeared like a professional who knew what she was doing, I was woman enough to know when my fellow gender was interested in a man.

“How are you feeling?” he asked out of the blue, surprising me and causing the doctor to pause mid-sentence.

So, I hadn’t imagined it.

Keeping my eyes trained on the doctor’s white coat, I shrugged my shoulders to the best of my ability. “Good.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction, but for the first time in my life, I felt myself not caring.

I convinced myself that I had a good reason to.

After last night— God, last night— the more na?ve part of me thought he and I shared a connection, as unlikely as that sounded. I’d woken up early enough, with every intention of starting a beautiful morning with breakfast and having him taste it. I wanted something special, something that could help me convey a message: I was willing to believe that he and I could lead a normal life together. Or maybe something close to normal.

He didn’t have to do anything else besides appreciate my kind gesture. For crying out loud, it was just soufflé pancakes. And yet, he reacted like I’d served him poison for breakfast.

So, no. I didn’t care that he frowned at my dry response. I didn’t care that he was suddenly putting on an act like an actual caring husband would. Was I hurt? Not that I’d ever admit it to him, but yes. What mattered most to me now was getting out of this hospital bed.

“Doctor.” When I got her attention, I pushed myself up on the bed, leaning against the steel bed frame. “What’s the report? I feel better now. When can I go home?”

Home.

Saying it aloud didn’t help that I couldn’t believe it myself. When I thought of home, Jayden came to mind; my sixth-grade children came to mind. Before all of this, before having my life spiral downward because of Timur Yezhov, was home to me.

The doctor dragged her feet as she faced me like she had trouble looking away from my husband.

I didn’t blame her. If I were in her shoes, I would’ve had a hard time looking away, too. But I wasn’t in her shoes; I was in mine, and mine offered more to see behind the curtains of that misleading handsomeness he possessed that could cause any reasonable woman to drop on her knees before him.

Timur was not the man of any woman’s dreams. If you let him, he’d gladly be your nightmare.

“Dehydration,” she said. “You should take lots of water. The lack of it made you feel faint, and that’s what rattled your balance earlier, as your, um, husband explained. Good thing he caught you in time.”

So, he’d caught me. Considering that he’d yelled at me just before my head grew dizzy and my legs felt like jelly, I thought he’d have watched in sick satisfaction while I dropped to the ground. Maybe then I wouldn’t have been such a question-asking nuisance to him anymore. Knowing he’d saved me was more interesting than picking up on her obvious hesitation in acknowledging Timur as my husband.

Mine.

“Other than that, you’re good.”

“Great.” I started taking off the covers, noticing my change of outfit from Timur’s shirt to one of my yellow dresses, when she stopped me with a chuckle.

“Not so fast.” She helped me lay back down, and Timur pushed off the wall, springing to my side.

“Is there something else you’re not saying? If there is, you better lay all the fucking cards on the table at once.”

The coldness was back; whatever warmth I thought I’d seen was gone. The young doctor didn’t even flinch. To my amazement, she ran her gaze past his flexing biceps before staring at his face. Maybe this doctor liked bad boys and preferred nightmares to sweet dreams.

I wanted to be jealous, but seeing that Timur didn’t spare her a worthy glance somehow put me at ease.

“Relax, Mr. Yezhov. The only card I have left is not a health issue. Your wife is fine, but she has to take extra measures to secure the well-being of your child.”

I froze on that hospital bed, but Timur didn’t so much as blink. Was he happy or furious? I couldn’t tell. His eyes were guarded, and his clenched jaw gave away nothing.

An explosion of excitement bursting through every cell in my body erased some of my anger at my husband, and all I could think about was the great news this ogling doctor had delivered.

“Doc….” My fingers trembled, and I gripped the sheets to keep them steady. “What are you saying?”

Beaming, she faced me, holding her clipboard to her chest. “I’m saying you’re pregnant, Serena. Congratulations to you both.”

And that was all I needed to hear. Those words hung in the air like a promise, and my heart skipped a beat. I felt like I was floating, detached from reality.

Pregnant?

When she started talking about healthy tips and recommendations to protect my pregnancy, I drifted off.

My mind began racing with visions of the future. I pictured a tiny, swaddled bundle in my arms, a baby’s soft giggles, and first steps. The thought of nurturing a new life and watching my child grow and flourish filled me with an overwhelming sense of purpose. With a mind of their own, my hands slowly covered my stomach, clutching the fabric of my dress tighter.

I was going to be a mother.