It was past midnight when I felt the sting.
Not the emotional kind—that dull, throbbing ache had made a home in me ever since Noah walked out. No, this was physical. Sharp, tight, urgent. My breasts were full again. Painfully so. And the baby had finally, finally fallen asleep.
I sat cross-legged on the living room couch, an oversized hoodie clinging to my post-pregnancy curves, n*****s hard and leaking beneath the fabric. I didn’t even bother with a bra anymore—what was the point when I was constantly nursing or crying?
“You okay?”
I flinched. Liam’s voice came from the kitchen doorway, deep and calm like a warm blanket—and just as dangerous. He was shirtless again, his military-cut hair damp from the shower. A dish towel hung from his shoulder, and those gray sweatpants hugged him fa
