I Used To Cling To Him At Night, Now I Turn My Back Chapter 12

I Used To Cling To Him At Night, Now I Turn My Back Chapter 12

After Milo left, I went back to the bedroom to pack.

Several suitcases lay open across the floor.

Callan walked in, took one look, and left without a word.

The comments erupted.

[What’s the side character doing? Her husband’s about to lose it.]

[The male lead is spiraling. He literally drove to the hospital. Go comfort this man.]

[Wait, no. A guy with mental defenses that solid wouldn’t break that easily. Good thing the female lead IS a psychologist.]

[My OTP is almost at the finale. ML, FL, happy ending, let’s go!]

I folded the last camisole into the suitcase.

The bedroom door opened again.

The sight of what Callan was wearing nearly made me drop the clothes in my hands.

He acted as if nothing was unusual. He carried over a basin of warm water and set it in front of me.

Before I could react, the room spun. He scooped me up and sat me on the edge of the bed.

I was still clutching the lace panties I’d been about to pack.

His eyes were red, looking like an abandoned dog. He gently guided my feet into the warm water. “Honey, from now on… I’ll take care of you. Please stay.”

“I’ll be a better father to our baby than anyone else. Just don’t leave.”

He’d obviously just showered. The fitted butler uniform he was wearing stretched across his broad shoulders with every breath as steam curled around him.

It stirred feelings I’d buried for a long time.

The comments had become complete chaos.

[HOLY SHIT!!]

[What happened to my Callan?!]

Heat rushed through me. Unable to meet his eyes, I gripped the blanket and looked away.

He refused to give up. Lifting my hand, he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“My lady. Please… command me as you wish.”

Before I knew what he was doing, the hem of my dress had been lifted. He’d held himself back for far too long. His tongue moved with a skill that left me breathless.

My face burned scarlet. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“You don’t have to do this. The baby’s already three months…”

He froze. His eyes widened. Then his movements intensified.

The pet names he’d been practicing for days—”baby,” “sweetheart”—he whispered them to me over and over that night.

The comments rolled by.

[She’s still packing? The male lead’s really about to cry.]

I paused. Then I walked over and slipped my arms around him.

He immediately crouched down to my height. His eyes were already red. The light caught the tears making them look even more vulnerable.

He looked like someone whose heart had just been ripped out.

His voice came out hoarse.

“Honey… I already said I’d serve you. So why are you still leaving?”

“We won’t get divorced.”

“Whatever kind of husband you want… I’ll learn.”

I couldn’t help laughing. Leaning forward, I kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I’m not throwing you away. I’m throwing away the clothes.”

“I’m pregnant now. They don’t fit anymore.”

I wanted to explain about the comments too—but there was no way. He’d never believe me.

Callan caught every flicker of hesitation on my face and held it.

His eyes were serious, quietly searching mine.

“Honey… I’ve had this feeling for a while now.”

“It’s like… you can see things that no one else can.”

“I want to take you to see a psychologist tomorrow.”