I Can Hear My Unborn Baby’s Thoughts, and We’re Taking Down the Other Woman Together Chapter 02

I Can Hear My Unborn Baby’s Thoughts, and We’re Taking Down the Other Woman Together Chapter 02

The hallway went dead silent after I threw the file and laid into her.

Sloane clutched her red, scratched cheek. Panic flickered in her eyes again, but she quickly clamped her jaw shut and put on a wounded, innocent act.

“Ms. Bennett, Captain Hayes’s memory is stuck right before the fire. He’s desperate for a sense of security!”

“I put ‘fiancée’ because I’m using a technique called ‘affective substitution desensitization therapy’ for his PTSD!”

Her eyes welled up as she raised her voice. “And you? You signed that waiver. Now that you see Declan’s alive, you’re back to cash in?”

“Security! Get this crazy woman out of here!”

A couple of big guards grabbed my arms and started shoving me. “Move it! No fighting here!”

In the chaos, I stumbled. The small of my back slammed into the doorframe. A sharp stab of pain shot through my belly. My face went white, and sweat beaded on my forehead.

[Mom! Mom, are you okay?!]

My baby’s little voice cracked with panic.

But the pain and the humiliation of being manhandled only fueled me. I heard my son’s voice and found a new burst of fury.

“Don’t touch me!”

I don’t know where I found the strength, but I shook them off. I pointed at the scattered files on the floor, ignoring the pain. “Affective substitution therapy?”

I laughed bitterly. “Dr. Whitmore, if it’s legit, why’d you hide his married status in the system? Why’d you get your uncle—the assistant director—to help you fake these records? Are you treating him, or just feeding your own sick little fantasy?”

“I… that’s not… I was trying to protect him from painful memories…”

Sloane’s face was ghost-white. She stumbled backward, her words falling apart. The nurses and staff around us went from trusting her to staring in shock and disgust.

“What are you waiting for? Get her out!” Sloane shrieked at the guards.

One guard stepped forward hesitantly.

But before he could touch me, a hand grabbed his arm.

It was Declan.

He didn’t even have shoes on. Barefoot, he moved in front of me, his pale face twisted with fury, shielding me completely. He couldn’t speak, but his eyes screamed a warning at anyone who tried to come near.

Looking at his broad, thin back, my eyes burned and the weight on my chest started to lift.

The rehab center director saw what was happening, shot Sloane a furious look, and waved the guards off.

“This is ridiculous! She’s family—how could you throw her out?”

“Zack, get Ms. Bennett set up in one of our VIP family suites right now.”

The temporary suite was small—one bedroom, one living room—but it was clean and quiet. On the walk from the main building, Declan stayed right behind me like a silent giant, his eyes locked on me like I’d vanish if he blinked.

Once we were inside, the quiet felt heavy.

Instead of sitting, he started circling the room. His face was blank, but his gaze was sharp, like he was clearing a hot zone. Soon, he found some old cardboard and scissors on the balcony. He crouched down and started cutting.

I had no idea what he was doing until he took the rounded pieces of cardboard and carefully taped them over every sharp corner—the coffee table, the cabinets—layer by layer, like his life depended on it.

He couldn’t talk, so he just worked in this quiet, almost obsessive way, checking every spot where I might bump into something.

[Aww, Daddy’s memory is all messed up, but his instinct to protect Mom is still perfect.]

My baby’s voice was soft now, not so sharp.

[In the past life, after I was gone, Dad did the same thing. He wrapped every corner of our house in the middle of the night, crying the whole time.]

[Mom, don’t let his cold face fool you. He’s even walking on tiptoes so he doesn’t scare you.]

I watched Declan’s broad back as he knelt on the floor, and for the first time all day, I felt my shoulders loosen just a little.

When he finished the last corner, he stood up, walked to the table, and poured a glass of warm water. He brought it to me and held it out. His dark eyes stared into mine, his Adam’s apple bobbing like he wanted to say something.

But nothing came out.

He frowned in frustration, a faint blush creeping up his ears, and just shoved the glass gently into my hands.

I took it and sipped. He stood there at attention, like a loyal guard.

But peace never lasts long.