Chapter 81 Waking Up
Olivia: POV
"The baby's fine," Blake assured me, relief washing over his features. "You got scared, that's all. The doctor said the heartbeat is strong. Our little one is tougher than they look."
Only then did I allow myself to breathe. The tension that had seized my entire body slowly began to release, my shoulders sagging back against the pillows. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog from my mind as memories came rushing back—Linda in the parking garage, our argument, falling...
I pushed myself up, wincing at the dull ache in my hip. "Linda. Where is she?"
Blake's expression darkened. "Gone. I made sure she won't bother you again."
"What did you do?" I asked, suddenly alert. The fierce protectiveness in his eyes made my heart skip.
"I took care of it," he said simply, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. "She won't be coming around anymore. I can promise you that."
I pulled my hand free from his grasp. "Blake, what exactly did you do? I need to teach that woman a lesson. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have fallen. I could have lost our baby!"
Blake leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "I handled it, Olivia. I found their weak spots and applied pressure. Trust me, she's not going to risk coming near you or our child again."
"Their weak spots?" I echoed, studying his face.
He just smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Let's just say the Sullivan family has plenty of skeletons in their closet, and I made it clear I wouldn't hesitate to expose them if necessary."
"Thank you," I said finally, my voice small. "For being here. For taking care of... everything."
His expression softened immediately. "Always," he promised, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"
I took a moment to assess my body. My hip throbbed where I'd landed on it, and my shoulder felt bruised, but the cramping in my abdomen had subsided. "I'm okay. Just sore."
Blake stood up suddenly. "I should get the doctor. And you need to eat something."
Before I could protest, he was out the door. The I took stock of my surroundings—the sterile hospital room, the IV in my arm, the fetal monitor strapped to my belly. The steady rhythm of our baby's heartbeat filled the room, a sound I'd never thought could bring me such profound relief.
Blake returned minutes later with a doctor and a nurse. The doctor checked my vitals and the fetal monitor, nodding approvingly.
"Everything looks stable, Mrs. Westwood," she said, making notes on her tablet. "The bleeding was from a small cervical irritation caused by the fall, not from the placenta or the fetus. We'd like to keep you overnight for observation, but I don't anticipate any complications."
"Thank you," I said, feeling another wave of relief wash over me.
After the medical staff left, Blake stepped out again, returning shortly with his assistant carrying a paper bag that smelled deliciously of warm bread and soup.
"I brought the food you requested, Mr. Westwood," she said, stepping into the room. "The chef said the chicken soup is made with organic bone broth, and the bread is freshly baked with no preservatives."
"Perfect," Blake said, taking the bag. "Thank you, Elise. That'll be all for tonight."
After she left, Blake unpacked the food, revealing containers of steaming soup and a loaf of crusty bread. "Hospital food is fine, but I thought you might prefer something with a bit more flavor."
I couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. "You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to," he replied simply, opening the containers and arranging them on the bedside table.
He pulled his chair closer and surprised me by taking the spoon from my hand. "Let me," he said softly.
"Blake, I can feed myself," I protested, embarrassed by the attention.
"I know you can," he said, his eyes twinkling. "But humor me. I need to feel useful right now."
I reluctantly relented, allowing him to spoon-feed me the soup. It was oddly intimate, his eyes never leaving mine as he carefully brought each spoonful to my lips. The soup was delicious—rich and flavorful, with tender chunks of chicken and vegetables.
"This is amazing," I admitted between bites.
Blake smiled, tearing off a piece of bread and offering it to me. "Only the best for my wife and child."
As we continued this way, with Blake feeding me and occasionally wiping a drop of soup from my chin with his thumb, I felt a strange mix of emotions. Embarrassment, yes, but also a warmth spreading through my chest.
"You're being so attentive," I said finally. "It's like you think I can't function on my own."
Blake's hand paused mid-air, the spoon hovering between us. "Actually," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I wish you couldn't function on your own. Then you'd have to rely on me forever, and I could take care of you always."
The unexpected confession hung in the air between us. His eyes held mine, intense and vulnerable all at once. I didn't know how to respond—the raw honesty of his words had caught me completely off guard.
As he continued feeding me, Blake's voice grew softer. "I realized how much I have to lose now. You and the baby—you're my family, Olivia."
The raw emotion in his voice made my throat tighten. I reached for his hand, and he grasped mine like a lifeline.
"I should have been with you," he continued. "I should have been picking you up from work. If I had been there—"
"Blake, stop," I interrupted. "You can't be with me every minute of every day. This was just a horrible coincidence."
" This might be a coincidence, but I don't want to risk it happening again." He squeezed my hand. "Let me drive you to and from work from now on. At least until the baby comes. It would make me feel better."
I started to protest. "Blake, that's not necessary—"
He placed a finger gently against my lips, silencing me. "I really want to drive you to and from work, be your personal chauffeur. Please don't refuse me, okay?"
Looking into his worried eyes, I felt myself giving in. Part of me wanted to be stubborn and say I could handle this alone. But honestly? After what just happened, the idea of having him around actually sounded pretty damn good.
I felt my cheeks flush as I nodded. "Okay."
His relief was palpable. "Thank you."
He might have actually gotten over Sophia...