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Then he disappears into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

WYNTER

I shouldn’t be this nervous. I’m just picking up my husband at the airport, something I’ve done countless times.

But this time is different.

This is the first time I’m seeing Wyatt since I told him I’m pregnant.

Since we talked about starting over.

Since I broke Joshua’s heart.

I still can’t get the image of his face out of my mind.

How full of joy he was when he thought he was going to be a dad.

How heartbroken he was when I told him Wyatt was the father and that we’d promised to work on our marriage.

Then how devastated he was when he told me he loved me.

But that doesn’t change anything. It can’t. I’m pregnant.

Don’t I owe it to our baby to try?

Or am I just doing this because it’s expected of me?

I quickly suppress the thought. That’s not why I’m doing this. I’m doing this for our baby. For our family.

Maybe everything that’s happened over the past few weeks was the wake-up call Wyatt and I needed to remember what’s important. The last several years have been stressful as Wyatt and I tried to get pregnant. It’s only natural to have lost some of the spark along the way. I’ve read so many stories about couples who’ve been through the same thing, and they found their way back to each other.

Maybe we can, too.

“There’s my baby,” a voice booms over the steady hum of conversation, rolling luggage, and overhead announcements in the terminal.

I look toward the security exit, my eyes immediately landing on Wyatt’s charismatic grin.

His broad shoulders stretch the limits of his fleece pullover, his thick thighs filling out his jeans. His dusty blond hair is trimmed close to his head, his face cleanly shaven. He carries himself like he’s walking onto a football field instead of through an airport.

Head up. Chest out. Every movement deliberate.

He closes the distance between us in a few long strides and lifts me off the ground. I squeal as he spins me around.

Like I always imagined my husband would do after learning I’m pregnant.

A voice in my head reminds me that Joshua did the same thing, but I silence it. The last thing I need when I’m trying to work things out with Wyatt is to think about Joshua.

“How are you feeling?” Wyatt asks once he sets my feet back on the floor, his hand sliding down to my stomach.

“Good. A little morning sickness, but I’m getting through it.”

“That’s my girl.” He leans down and touches his lips to mine.

I close my eyes and wait to feel something. A spark. A rush. Anything.

But I feel nothing. No exhilaration. No hunger. No desperate need to have him consume every inch of me.