Olivia's POV
The third month had been unbearable.
Dad was home and recovering well. The initial crisis was over. And without that distraction, all I could think about was Maxwell.
How much I missed him. How much I needed him. How much our baby needed both of us.
I'd driven past his office building countless times, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Had stalked his company's website for any news about him. Had even, in one particularly desperate moment, called his office and hung up the moment his assistant answered.
I was losing my mind.
And then this morning, I'd woken up with our baby doing gymnastics in my belly, and I'd looked down at my pregnant stomach and thought: Enough.
Enough fear. Enough waiting. Enough letting pride and uncertainty keep me from the man I loved.
So I'd gotten dressed, taken a taxi to his house, and stood at his gate trying not to throw up from nervousness while I waited for him to appear.
