Scarlett's POV

Sebastian is in the shower.

My mind was a mess in the car. I couldn't even begin to think about Jack Fuller's confession, Damian Vanderbilt's questions, or even just Sebastian's offer. In the end, the easiest decision was:

He needed to get out of the wet shirt.

He took my offer, but he put the hot water in the bathtub with my favorite salt, and he insisted on me taking a hot bath first. It did help a lot. I took my time in there, feeling the warmth of the water softening my stiff muscles. I only came out to see that he didn't take a shower himself, but waited for me in his wet shirt.

In my gentle pajamas and soft slippers, I curl up on the cushions of our bay window, watching the quiet night view outside. I don't miss this view. This is where I usually sit when I have to wait for my husband over midnight, or when he leaves me alone after yet another fight.

But now, this view gives me peace.

It comes from his changes, I know. I didn't dare hope for such a safety from him, but now I'm getting greedy again. I stroke my belly that's getting hard to hide, trying to make that decision.

Could I stay in this marriage with him? Am I doing that for myself? Or am I doing that for the baby?

baby to grow up under the care of his father. But is it just another wrong

way. Now he doesn't. He just remained silent and did not talk about any of it. I feel like it's harder to tell how he feels. I know

piece together something that's totally broken. I don't like myself with so much misgivings. I like things simple and clear. I love with all I have and I leave with no regret. That's the real me. Not this women who is trying to stay

comes out of

my head on the wall lazily, watching him. He has only a towel around his waist, water dripping from his hair as steam spouts off him. Tiny flows of water trails down his muscled

in front of

chuckle at his

point of the

feeling a little bit better," He finally comes over, as if encouraged by my

more out

wish we could go back in time, and

young, and we both made too many mistakes. Now they are all between us, making

takes my hand, gazing

demands all his attention. He strokes my skin with his thumb, his rough touch sending tingles through

follow my rush of wanting to make

brings

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