Chapter 31

As he closesthe door behind us, he turns to face me, his blue eyes darken with a hunger that makes me crave him. He reaches for the hem of my shirt, slowly lifting it over my head, his fingers skimming my skin as he goes. I shiver, goose bumps rising on my arms. He leans in, pressing his lips to my collarbone, his breath warm against my skin.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. I feel a flutter in my chest, my heart pounding in my ears. He unclasps my bra, letting it fall to the floor, and I feel a rush of desire run through my blood. "So fucking beautiful."

He continues to undress me, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he's unwrapping a precious gift. With each piece of clothing that falls away, I feel a little more exposed, a little more open. And with each kiss, each touch, I feel a little more alive.

When I'm standing before him in nothing but my panties, he takes a step back, his eyes raking over my body. I feel a blush creep up my cheeks, but I don't look away. I hold his gaze, letting him see me—all of me.

"Sit," he commands, his voice firm but gentle. I do as he says, sinking onto the plush couch, my heart still racing. He kneels before me, his hands on my knees, and I can feel the heat of his touch through the fabric of my panties.

He looks up at me, his eyes full of desire, and I know what's coming. But instead of feeling afraid, or anxious, I feel a sense of anticipation, of excitement. I trust him, and I want this, want him.

He leans in, and I close my eyes, surrendering to the moment. I feel his breath against my skin, warm and steady, as he kneels before me. His hands are gentle on my thighs, his touch igniting a fire within my core.

The moment I feel him shift, and his lips are on my pussy, my eyes close. I gasp, my back arching off the couch, my hands instinctively reaching for his hair. He slowly slides a finger inside me as his teeth nibble my clit.

I moan, my breathing ragged, my body trembling. I feel like I'm going to explode, like I'm about to shatter into a million pieces.

"Gabe," I moan and my body begins to shake, my breath is catching in my throat, but suddenly there's an unexpected tightness gripping me.

I rise up when a wave of nausea overwhelms me, intense and unyielding. My stomach churns violently, a hot, sour sensation surging up my esophagus. The taste in my mouth is acrid, unbearable. My face contorts in distress, my eyes widening in shock and discomfort. There's no time to react or move away. My lunch violently spews, splattering onto the floor.

The force of the vomit leaves me trembling, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. I gasp for air, my mind spinning, struggling to comprehend what happened.

"Ame, baby," Gabe's voice cuts through my haze, grounding me. He's right in front of me now, hastily taking off his t-shirt and draping it over my shoulders. His eyes are filled with concern. "Describe what you're feeling, what's happening?"

"The room seems to be spinning around me," I whisper.

"Let's sit you down," he says firmly, guiding me gently back onto the couch. "I'm going to bring you water, and I'll clean this up right after," he assures me.

As I close my eyes, trying to steady the whirlpool of sensations, I remind myself that this is probably just food poisoning. I'm not sick otherwise, nor am I taking any medication that could cause this weakness.

But despite my rational thoughts, the anxiety starts to creep in, insidious and overwhelming. It begins to wrap around my thoughts. Each heartbeat is louder than the other. My chest feels tight, each breath shorter than the last. The anxiety grows, threatening to overpower my attempts to stay calm. I feel trapped in its grip, the room still spinning, my thoughts racing with a million what-ifs.

"Calm down, baby," Gabe says, handing me a glass of water. "It's probably nothing."

"Nothing? Well, nothing doesn't feel good right now," I mumble.

"If you don't mind. I'm going to call a few favors in and have a team come to check on you," he says.

"Favors? Team?" I ask, slightly confused.

"Finn has a team of doctors who make house calls. They can even get the mobile lab here," he states.

"I'm sure it's not that bad," I say, hoping that it's not that bad because the thought of going through another tumor frightens me.

"It's either that or the ER," he states. "We can't just ignore this, Ame."

"I'm fine."

"Any headaches?"

I close my eyes because, for the past week, I've had a few, and I'm trying to ignore them, but it seems like I can't.

"You'll be fine," he assures me.

"But what if I'm not?" The agony in my voice makes me shrink into a little ball.

Gabe squeezes my hand. "Maybe you haven't heard, but I'm the one of the best at what I do. If this is a repeat, you'll be totally fine, baby."

Physically? Probably, but I don't know if my mind is strong enough to go through this again.

"Cora and Caleb need me," I mutter. "This can't be happening to me."

"We don't even know what it is," Gabe says as he cleans the floor. "And maybe we can figure it out before we let our imagination get the best of us."

"Okay," I agree.

Once he finishes cleaning, someone is knocking at the door. One of them introduces himself as Dr. Baldwin, while the petite woman is Dr. Drago. She's a neurologist. They begin by asking me the usual questions.

"Any chance you can be pregnant?" she asks.

I shake my head. "No. I had chemo and radiation when I was twenty, so I can't have children," I state.

Gabe frowns. "That's not exactly right."

"What?"

"The doctors back then didn't have enough information," he states.

"And you do?"

He nods. "Your eggs work and . . . are you using any kind of contraceptive?"

"No. I just assumed that it can't happen."

Gabe grins. "Is there a test in the mobile lab?" he asks.

"I can't get pregnant," I say, panicking. "What if there's a malformation or?—"

"Have faith," he says reassuringly. "If this is positive, we'll head to the hospital to get a sonogram and make sure everything is okay."

"But what if it's not?" I ask as I head to the bathroom with a cup and a white package that might as well be a COVID test. Gabe follows me and patiently waits for me. He holds me as we wait for the results.

"I can't be pregnant," I say.

"You don't want a baby?" he asks.

"Caleb is too little, and I don't know what's going to happen to?—"

"Izzy will be gone for a while. Think at least five years. So we'll have three kids," he states. "The house we plan to build is big enough for them all—and a few more. This is our little miracle. Our rainbow baby."

The idea of a ‘rainbow baby' fills me with a mix of hope and fear. "What if it's not a baby, and I'm sick again?" I can't help but voice the worry that's gripping my heart.

"I'm afraid too," he confesses. "Scared that what we're building might fall apart. But I also have faith in us. That this time we're older, wiser—and lucky to have each other."

His words are comforting, yet my mind is racing with all sorts of frightening possibilities. "What if I have a tumor and I'm also expecting a baby?" I ask, the fear evident in my voice.

"There are ways to treat you while keeping our little one safe," he replies, his reassurance helping to ease my anxiety a bit.

"You seem to have all the answers, huh?" I ask, managing a small smile despite everything.

"This exact situation is why I became an oncologist, Ame. You, our kids—our future," he explains with a determination that makes me want to believe him. "I wanted to change what happened in the past, to make things right. I've been preparing for a long time just in case history tried to repeat itself. It's also my way of honoring Aly and ensuring that families don't have to endure what we did."

"Okay, so no matter what, I believe you. I believe that we'll be okay," I say, my eyes flickering to the pregnancy test lying on the counter. Slowly, I reach out and pick it up.

"It's positive," I announce softly, staring at the result that has just changed everything.

Gabe strides over, scoops me up effortlessly, and twirls me around. Laughter bubbles up from both of us, a sound of pure happiness and celebration filling the room. "We're going to be parents," he exclaims, his eyes shining with excitement and love as he sets me back down, his arms still wrapped protectively around me.

He releases me, gently cups my face in his hands, and leans in, planting a soft, loving kiss on my lips. "I love you, Ameline Decker. Thank you for coming home and putting me back together. Thank you for not giving up on me."

"I love you too, Gabe. Thank you for loving me the way you do," I say and kiss him again, trying to replace the fear with his courage. Trying to stop being afraid of the past and embracing the future.