Chapter 170 So, You're pregnant
June.
Oh– I am dreaming again.
My eyes are shut as I bask in the steamy kiss, my breath stolen right out of my chest. This dream… I was dreaming, right? Because It felt real though. Too real.
I slide my hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer, greedily. His scent floods my nostrils, warm and familiar, intoxicating. God, I’ve missed his touch more than I’ll ever admit.
I feel his hand glide under my gown, his fingertips trailing up my thigh—slow, teasing, claiming.
"God— you taste divine and familiar," he groans breathlessly against my lower lip, sucking gently, sending heat rushing through my entire body.
Suddenly, my eyes fly open.
This—
This wasn’t a dream.
I shove him away instinctively, my heart slamming in my ribcage as I take in my surroundings. The dim lights. The private room. The full moon spilling across the floor.
How did I get here?
Did they… did they bring me to Hermes’s ward?
No.
No, no, no—
Why would they do that?
"How—how did I get here?" I force out, my voice trembling as I touch my lips. They’re swollen. Warm. Marked.
Hermes flinches a little, rubbing the back of his neck as if he’s the one caught doing something wrong.
"Uhm—I asked you be brought here— You were—"
"Why did you kiss me?" I cut in sharply, my eyes flashing to the door, checking for guards. Checking if anyone saw. If anyone heard. If anyone would run to Lucien with this.
Lucien would accuse me of manipulating Hermes. He’d call it predatory, shameless, desperate—he’d use it as the perfect weapon to take Hermes away from me completely.
Oh God.
What have I done?
I spring up, adjusting my gown with shaky hands. "I have to go," I whisper under my breath, already stepping back, already planning my escape.
But Hermes is faster. He steps in front of me, blocking my path with his body, his expression confused, almost hurt.
"Where are you going? It’s still nighttime," he says softly.
"I need to get away from you," I rush out, my voice breaking.
"Woah—woah—" Hermes says, shifting a little backward, his hands raised in the air like he’s surrendering. "To be clear, you came on to me. I brought you here so you’d have a comfortable rest, and then you kissed me. Your lips touched mine first." He touches his own lips dramatically, like he’s trying to prove a point.
I exhale sharply, frustration twisting in my chest. "Then you could have pushed me away. You don’t even know me. Why carry on with the kiss?"
My voice cracks slightly, my emotions tangled and raw. Fear, shame, longing, and frustration—every feeling I’d bottled up in the last few days—spilled out at once.
I wish I could just scream, tear down every wall, and say, I’m your damn lover, fool. But I can’t. Not here. Not now. Not with the Doctor’s warnings echoing in my head, and not with the fear of losing him again.
Even if Hermes learned the truth from me, how could I be sure he wouldn’t choose his family, his father, his company over me? He had, once before, even when his memories were intact. How could I know he wouldn’t do it again if he didn’t remember me at all?
That’s why I have to let him remember on his own. Let him piece it all together—every memory, every stolen touch, every obstacles we surpassed. Let him remember why he should choose me this time.
Because if he truly remembers… then maybe, just maybe, he’ll choose me.
Hermes blinks, pausing for a moment. "Well—I—thought you… Okay… I shouldn’t have kissed you, but what you’re saying is a bit harsh."
I scoff, folding my arms tightly across my chest. "What? That I want to get away from you? Hermes, if I don’t get away from you right now, I might lose everything. I mean everything." My voice trembles despite my effort to sound steady.
Hermes pauses, his gaze dropping to the floor for a brief second before lifting it back to me. "Oh, if you’re worried about losing your job because of the kiss… you don’t have to. I won’t tell, or fire you." He offers that infuriatingly innocent smile, like none of this is serious.
I roll my eyes, letting out a frustrated groan. "Ugh! Thanks for the… comfortable stay, Boss."
I leave the room, and thankfully—and annoyingly—Hermes doesn’t stop me.
"You just had one job. Remembering me," I hiss through clenched teeth, muttering under my breath.
Back in the common ward, I try to sleep, but my mind keeps drifting back to the kiss. My fingers brush my lips unconsciously, reliving the way he skillfully, torturously, pleasurably nibbled, sucked, and bit, how our tongues rolled together in one perfect, sinful harmony.
A slow moan escapes me, my legs tightening together as a heat I can’t control spreads through me.
I remember his hand tracing the curve of my thighs—sensual, sensitive, teasingly gentle yet rough in all the right ways. My mind wanders dangerously, imagining if his hand had gone further, daring to touch the places I’ve been longing for… My breasts. My sore, but straining nubs, pinching and teasing and sucking and oh– My pu—
— "Cough!"
A sudden cough from the patient beside me snaps me out of my sinful thoughts.
I adjust quickly, turning my body to face the blank white wall, my cheeks burning.
Slowly, my eyelids grow heavy, and finally, exhaustion and desire win—I drift into sleep.
\---
The next morning, I wake up feeling… oddly energized. I yawn and stretch, letting the sunlight streaming through the blinds warm my face.
Another day. Another chance. I should be grateful. Hermes is alive, and maybe—just maybe—today he’ll remember.
I step down from the bed, ready to move, but suddenly freeze. My breath catches in my throat.
I’m in the hospital garden. The scene shifts as if the world itself blinked. The air is cool, the morning sun glinting off the leaves. My head bows slightly, my heart thudding in my chest.
In front of me stands a figure, back turned against me.
Lucien.
"So… you’re pregnant," his voice cuts through the quiet morning air.
I bite my lips, panic and regret flaring hot in my chest. I’d completely forgotten the possibility that he could have known the moment I was admitted after my panic attack. I underestimated him. Again.
Well… here goes nothing. The truth is finally out. Maybe now he’ll see reason. After all, I’m carrying his grandson.
"Yes… I wanted to—" I start, voice trembling.
"Get rid of it," he cuts me off, sharp and cold, leaving my heart hammering in my chest.
"WHAT!"