Chapter 159 – Amara POV
Back Into My Orbit
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling fan as it spun slowly, the soft whirring barely audible over the chaos in my head. My back ached. My feet were swollen. My belly felt like it was carrying bowling balls.
I was six months pregnant with twins, and all I wanted to do was cry over nothing, yell at someone, eat ice cream with plantain chips, and then cry some more. Again.
The worst part? Ethan had been nothing but sweet through it all. And yet... I'd banned him from the bedroom for two weeks.
Because of his cologne.
Well, not just that. Because he breathed loudly. Because he blinked wrong. Because I was a ticking hormone bomb and he was too patient — which somehow made me more annoyed.
But now, as I sat here alone, belly propped with three pillows and an empty apple juice bottle by my side, I felt the guilt creeping in.
I missed him.
Even with the smell of his peppermint toothpaste and his stupid perfect skin and his annoyingly sexy bedhead.
I missed his arms around me at night.
I missed how he always kissed my forehead before falling asleep.
I missed the calm in his presence when I was spiraling.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Amara?" His voice was careful, hesitant, like he didn't know which version of me he'd get today. Understandable. I'd been both a gremlin and a goddess in the same hour recently.
"What?" I replied, not unkindly, but not warm either. Somewhere in between. Hormonal.
"I just wanted to check if you needed anything. I made your favorite—spaghetti with extra garlic bread. No onions, I remembered."
My stomach growled on cue, and my heart melted a little.
He remembered.
I hesitated, then called out, "Come in."
He entered slowly, holding a tray. My eyes landed on the bowl of pasta and golden garlic bread, and I almost cried.
"You didn't have to do all that," I whispered.
He smiled softly and set it on the nightstand. "I wanted to."
He didn't move to sit beside me. He stood at a respectful distance like he was a guest in his own bedroom. That's when it hit me—how kind he'd been through it all.
Even when I snapped at him.
Even when I made him cry over dry pancakes.
Even when I sobbed for an hour because he forgot to get the right apple juice brand.
"Ethan…" I said, placing the tray aside. "I'm sorry."
His brows pulled together. "What for?"
"For… being difficult. For acting like you're the enemy when all you've done is be there for me. For banning you from our room like a witch."
He chuckled softly. "You weren't a witch. Maybe a fiery dragon."
I threw a pillow at him.
He caught it mid-air, laughing. "Okay, okay. Maybe a hormonal goddess of destruction. Still cute, though."
I felt tears well up. Damn these emotions.
"You still think I'm cute when I'm sweaty and puffy and yell at you for chewing too loudly?"
"Always," he said, finally stepping closer. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Even now."
My lips trembled. "I've been awful."
He shook his head. "You've been pregnant. With twins. That's not easy. And I know I can't fully understand it, but I want to be here for you—even when you throw pillows at me and banish me to the guest room."
I looked at the spot beside me and then back at him. "Will you… sleep here tonight?"
He blinked. "Really?"
I nodded. "I miss you."
He moved without hesitation, carefully sliding into bed beside me, mindful of my belly, the pillows, and my shifting moods. As soon as he was settled, I curled into him as best as my belly would allow. He wrapped an arm around me, warm and familiar.
God, I missed this.
"I can sleep facing the other way if the toothpaste smell still bothers you," he whispered into my hair.
I laughed against his chest. "No. I think I missed even that."
We lay there in silence for a few minutes, the kind of silence that feels like a blanket. Comforting. Healing.
"I've been scared," I admitted.
"I know," he murmured.
"It's just… everything's changing. My body, my life, our relationship. What if I'm not ready?"
He rubbed gentle circles on my back. "You don't have to be ready. We'll figure it out together. One messy, beautiful step at a time."
I closed my eyes, the warmth of his body anchoring me.
"I love you," I whispered.
He kissed my forehead, lips lingering. "I love you more."
I snuggled deeper into his chest, ignoring the way the babies decided to kick at that exact moment — probably jealous of my attention.
"Remind me to buy more apple juice tomorrow," I mumbled sleepily.
He laughed. "Already stocked five bottles."
Of course he did.
And in that moment — big belly, back pain, stretch marks, mood swings and all — I realized I wouldn't trade this life for anything.
Not as long as I had him by my side.