Chapter 29 Hospitals had a way of feeling silent even when machines beeped and nurses moved briskly down fluorescent, chemical-scented halls. Everything felt too clean, too bright, too much. I was lying in a private room that was far too large for what I needed-Matt made sure of that-wearing one of those thin gowns that barely covered anything, especially with my still-sticky stomach in the way, the ultrasound tech having just left. My legs ached. My arms felt heavy. My brain wouldn't stop spinning. It felt like my blood had been replaced with pure panic. The pain had passed, mostly. It had come on so fast that it had stolen the breath from my lungs, sharp and searing and enough to make my vision haze at the edges. Matt had rushed to me, terror in his eyes, and ushered me into the car as fast as he could manage. But it wasn't labor, wasn't anything disastrous, per what the doctor said - instead, it was a particularly nasty episode of round ligament pain. Common. Scary, yes, but not dangerous. That part was fine. Manageable. But it was the ultrasound that struck us both down. Matt squeezed my hand like his life depended on it as we stared at the grainy black and white screen, the tech pointing out movement between them. Two tiny heartbeats beat away like they didn't know how much they'd scared me. They were perfect, still. Healthy. And both girls. Matt had choked when the tech told us, his eyes going glassy with relief and excitement and the crash of too much fear ebbing away. But I didn't cry. I didn't even smile, not at first - I just looked and desperately tried not to fall apart entirely. "That's the cervix," the doctor said. "Unfortunately, Sienna, it's already started to shorten. It's early, way too early." My pulse picked back up again. I could hear it on the monitor. "What does that mean?" Matt asked for me, our entwined knuckles on his not broken hand pressed to his lips. "It means," he said gently, "that she needs to go on strict bedrest. Effective immediately. No work, no errands, no stress, no sex." His eyes flicked down to mine. "You're already past five months, and with twins, your body's going to feel that harder. If we don't take this seriously, we're looking at a very real, very high risk of preterm labor." My whole world tipped. "No teaching?" I asked, voice breaking. "I-I have lesson plans, I have⁠-" "You have two daughters," Matt said, his voice a little strained, "who are relying on you to keep them safe." A soft knock came on the door as the doctor was packing things up, and then Jules slipped in, her face tense and eyes wide. "Matt texted," she said, moving straight to my side. "Are you okay? Are they okay?" "They're girls," I said weakly, swallowing through the rising dread in my body. "And they're okay. Me, on the other hand, not so much." Matt did most of the talking for me, explaining to Jules what had happened, what it meant for me now. I'd tried not to press my hands to my eyes and sob, but it hadn't fully worked, and instead I'd ended up stubbornly staring at the ceiling while tears slipped out of my eyes. Jules perched on the windowsill to my left, Matt sat in the chair to my right, and even with both of them here, it felt like everything was falling apart. "Move in with me." I blinked, wiping the tears from my temples as I turned my head to Matt. "What?" He took a breath, his voice wavering just a hair. "Move in. Now. Tonight. I'll get the downstairs suite set up for you. Everything you need. You won't have to lift a finger." "Matt-" "I'll work from home more," he went on, like he'd been rehearsing this in his head since the doctor said bedrest. "I can hire in a nurse, or Margot and I can just swap shifts making sure you've got what you need. You'll rest. You'll focus on the girls. And more importantly, you won't be alone." Jules raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. "I'll-fuck it, Sienna, I'll sleep in there with you if it sways you. I want to." My breath caught in my lungs. "Matt, you don't⁠-" "I want to be there," he breathed. "Every night. Not just the ones when things are easy. Please." "You can't mean that." "I do," he insisted, squeezing my hand so hard I worried it'd end up bandaged up like his. "We'll do it properly. Labels and everything, if that's what you want. No more confusion, no more waiting for me to catch up. I just-I can't bear the thought of you at home alone like this." I hesitated. I knew how hard this was for him, how much it cost him to say it out loud. He wasn't someone who just offered pieces of himself lightly. But still. "I need to hear it, Matt." He stilled. "Hear what?" I almost didn't want to say it, didn't want to admit that I needed to hear it. "That you love me." A wounded, soft, broken noise escaped him. "Sienna," he said, his voice low, shattered. "It should be obvious." Jules cursed behind me and shifted off the windowsill. "Give us a minute, Matt." Matt blinked, surprised, glancing between us like he didn't want to leave. But something about the way Jules was looking at him made him second-guess it, and he stood, reluctantly letting go of my hand and quietly closing the door behind him. The second it clicked shut, Jules rounded on me. "You need to give him a break." I stared at her. "What?" "He's trying, Sienna. Christ, he's been trying. We just talked about this. I don't know what more you want him to do, bleed on command? Tattoo your name across his forehead?" I looked away, jaw steeling. "It's not, like, a test." "Bullshit," she snapped. "It is a test. You know it is." "I'm scared." "That doesn't give you the right to punish him for every awful thing Ryan did to you, or every time Matt made the wrong call months ago. You asked him to show up, and he has. You asked him to be present, he is," she said, counting them on her fingers. "If you keep standing there waiting for him to say one thing you know he struggles with, you're going to lose him." The crack in my chest widened. "So, he didn't say 'I love you' in a dramatic monologue. Maybe that's not how he's wired. But you know it." She gripped the handle on the side of the bed, leaning over me. "I mean, fuck, Si, I know it and I've known him for all of ten minutes." I wiped hastily at my eyes again, hesitating before nodding once. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." "Good," she breathed. "God, babe, I know you're psycho-pregnant right now, but you've got to chill out. Just try not to ruin this."