The moment Marnie woke up the next morning, she knew she was under strict orders. Michael had transformed into a forcefield of overprotectiveness overnight, and nothing—nothing—was going to escape his notice.
She blinked at the sunlight spilling through the curtains, the condo eerily quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside. The twins were already awake—she could feel them shifting against her belly—but even their gentle kicks were enough to trigger Michael’s inner alarm system.
“Good morning, Mrs. Co,” he said from the doorway, clipboard in hand, a slight crease on his brow as he observed her. “How are you feeling?”
“I… I feel okay,” she replied hesitantly, sitting up.
“Okay is not good enough,” he said immediately, striding toward the bed. “You’re carrying twins. You are no
