Three days passed.
Three days of tension. Of avoiding both men. Of hiding in her room.
Logan gave her space. But she felt him. Outside the door. Waiting. Watching. Protecting.
Christian sent texts. Always gentle. Always about the baby.
*How are you feeling?*
*Did you eat today?*
*I found a book on pregnancy. Can I bring it to you?*
She ignored most of them. But something about his concern felt—real.
On the fourth day, she had a doctor's appointment. Logan insisted on driving her.
The car ride was silent. His hand rested on her thigh. Familiar. Grounding.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Tired. Nauseous. Overwhelmed."
"Physically or emotionally?"
"Both."
He squeezed her leg. "I'm here. Whatever you need."
"I know." She covered his hand with hers. "Thank you. For giving me sp
