Isabella's POV
The bathroom door opened just as I stared at the notification on my screen yet again.
Ovulation Window: Yesterday. High Fertility Detected.
The words seemed burned into my mind, impossible to ignore no matter how many times I read them.
Charlie stepped out dressed in the same dark clothes he'd worn when he came into my room yesterday. The black button-down shirt hugged his broad frame, the sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms, while the fitted trousers sat low on his hips.
There was no trace of the drunken man from last night—his dark hair was neatly styled, his expression composed and unreadable as he adjusted the watch on his wrist.
For a moment, I simply watched him. I needed to talk to him. Needed him to understand.
“Charlie.”
He didn't look up. His attention
