I was fucked. I was so angry about what had happened to me that I struggled to keep it in and put on a good face in front of Noah. I didn't want her to worry, I didn't even want her to think about it, but my mind was on it twenty-four hours a day. Someone had tried to kill me. I was obsessed with the idea that it could happen again, but that this time, instead of targeting me, they'd go for that beautiful woman who kept coming and going as though nothing had happened. Noah was back to her old routine, going to class, working, and coming to see me after. We still weren't living together, and it was driving me insane. Steve took her to school and picked her up, and he kept tabs on her so nothing would happen, but if I'd had my choice, she'd have stayed with me, and I'd never have let her out of my sight. I could hardly get out of bed, my recovery was slow, and the only reason I ever left the apartment was to go to the hospital. The nurse Noah had hired helped me out around the house, but I hated feeling like an invalid. I needed to be with Noah and know she was always okay.It was torture whenever she came to see me. With a smile on her face, she'd tell me how her day had gone, filling the room with joy and making me yearn to grab her, strip off her clothes, and possess her again. We hadn't made love since Andrew was conceived. Six months without feeling her the way I loved most, six months without sinking inside her and making her moan. Worst of all, though my body was destroyed, in my mind, I was still capable of climbing Everest. One or two days after moving back to Los Angeles, she showed up in a tight gray dress that left nothing to the imagination. It clung to her belly, too, which was getting rounder and prettier. Her hair was down, her eyes gleaming more than ever. It was warm out now, and her skin was again taking on that brown tone that looked so good on her. I could feel myself getting hard, and I had to control myself not to say to hell with the doctor's orders and make love to her on the spot, going deep inside her and reminding us both of all we were missing. "Nick, are you listening to me?" I silenced my lusty thoughts and paid attention to her as she rolled her eyes. "Sorry, what were you asking me?" "I didn't ask you anything; I was telling you that I'll be finished with classes soon and you're getting better, and I'd like us to go shopping for things for the baby. We don't even know what we're missing or how much space a baby needs. I've been thinking we could move my bed against the wall, and that would make more room for the baby and the changing table…" Diapers…and to think I was imagining tearing her clothes off and bringing her to orgasm. "You're including me in this equation?" I asked incredulously. Did she really think I was going to live with our newborn baby in that loft?"Of course…" she responded, blushing for some reason I couldn't quite grasp. "I know we haven't talked about it again, but…you are going to live with me, right?" Was she asking me? I couldn't help but laugh. "I doubt there are many forces in the world that could keep me from getting in bed with you every night, Freckles. Of course, I'm going to live with you, but sorry, it's not going to be in this so-called apartment." I wasn't about to give ground there. "But—" "No buts, Noah," I cut her off, pulling her close and giving her a peck on the lips. "I'm not going to raise our child in a matchbox." She blinked at me, startled by my response. "We'll figure something out," I said. I started feeling better as the days passed, and after a month, I was able to go back to work. Noah was in her last trimester, and there was no more hiding it. Standing in the kitchen, taking sips from a cup of coffee, I heard it the first time we hit the news. I cursed between clenched teeth as I saw a photo of Noah walking down the street, her belly sticking out, making it impossible to say the story wasn't true. For the first two weeks after I was shot, the news had spent at least ten minutes a day talking about me, Leister Enterprises, and the downsizing measures. But the heat had died down, and I'd relaxed as it all became old hat. But then the scandal about Noah being pregnant with my child broke, and once again we were the center of attention. I was shocked when I saw Noah trying to get through the door of her building while the journalists crowded around her and she kept repeating, "No comment." Steve was there, furious, trying to help her enter her own home. Rage flooded through my veins.Dammit.
(Above mentioned words are all from the book of Culpa Nuestra, Spanish book written by Mercedes Ronn, I just traslated this in English if you want to communicate with me ...my Instagram account @_._priyeah_._)
Be ready for chapter 53 guys...