All Chapters of THE WEIGHT OF LOVING YOU: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

JESSICA I stirred awake, my hand sliding across the sheets, expecting the familiar warmth of Liam’s body beside me.Cool cotton. Empty space.My fingers stilled. For a second, I thought maybe he’d just rolled to the other side, but no. The bed was empty.“Liam?” My voice was still scratchy with sleep, low and uncertain.Silence. The house was quiet in that way that made you notice it — like all the air was holding its breath.I stretched, slow and lazy, pushing my hair back. My body felt heavy in that pleasantly tired way, but not sick. Honestly, considering what everyone warned me about pregnancy, I’d gotten lucky. No morning sickness, no dramatic cravings at 3 a.m. — just a little more tired than usual and, okay, maybe a tiny bit more emotional.I slid into my slippers and padded toward the stairs, rubbing my eyes. Maybe he was in the office, answering emails before I woke up. Or maybe he’d run out to grab coffee.But as I reached the bottom of the stairs and turned into the kitche

LIAMDawn light spilled into the bedroom, soft and gold, crawling over the sheets until it found her. Jessica. Still asleep. Her hair was a dark tangle across the pillow, one arm thrown out like she’d tried to catch me in her dreams and missed.I stood by the bed, half-buttoning my shirt, hair still damp from the fastest shower in history. My body ached in that good, wrecked way you get after a day of doing nothing but finding new ways to touch each other. I’d made such a mess of her yesterday—multiple times—and the peaceful way she looked now almost made me want to crawl back in beside her and start over.Instead, I just stood there, taking her in. My chest felt heavy in that dangerous, too-full way.I set the folded note on the bedside table, careful not to wake her. My handwriting—small, neat—stared back at me: Stepped out for a bit, love. Your food is warm in the microwave. Eat well. —Liam.Not exactly Shakespeare, but it was us.I tugged the sheet higher over her shoulder, lean

LIAMThe bedroom was dim, the only light coming from the lamp on her nightstand. The cool air from the cracked window carried in the faint smell of rain, and the sheets were probably still warm from her body. Jessica lay on her side, one hand holding her phone, the other rubbing her small baby bump without even noticing. She did that a lot now—like she was subconsciously reminding herself there was life under her palm.I leaned against the doorframe for a second, just watching. Her hair was messy from the long day, her bare legs tangled in the blanket, and she had no idea how goddamn beautiful she looked like that.The shower steam still clung to my skin, towel hanging low on my hips. When I finally climbed into bed behind her, she shifted just enough to make room, and I fit my body against hers like I’d been built for it. My palm found her hip automatically, my thumb sliding under the thin cotton of her shorts.She made a small sound—half sigh, half relief—and I pressed my mouth to

JESSICAThe jolt of the landing yanked me out of sleep so hard my heart leapt into my throat. My stomach lurched as the plane bounced against the runway, and before I could think, my hand shot out and clutched Liam’s. His fingers tightened around mine instantly, like he’d been waiting. My eyes blinked open, groggy, unfocused, and the first thing I saw was him—his profile bathed in warm glow, that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.“Already?” My voice came out raspy, scratchy with sleep. I rubbed at my eyes, wishing I didn’t sound like a dying frog.“Already,” he said, turning his head slightly, blue eyes catching mine with way too much amusement. “You slept through the whole thing, princess. Not even turbulence could wake you up.” His thumb brushed lazily across the back of my hand, deliberate, teasing. “Welcome to Miami.”I groaned and dropped my forehead against his shoulder. “You could’ve at least woken me up so I could look out the window or something.”“You were drooling on

LIAMI scooped her up from the balcony before she could even think of protesting. Her laugh hitched against my chest, soft, high, breathless, and it cut through me—sharp, sweet, dangerous. My fingers tightened around her just a little more, enough to mark her as mine, enough to make her feel it in her bones. She looped her arms around my neck, legs brushing mine, and every nerve in me ignited, fire crawling from my toes to my skull. Every. Single. One.Her scent—warm, intoxicating, sticky with desire—wrapped around me, made me dizzy, made me ache in ways I hadn’t known existed. The sun's glow spilled across the floor, but I didn’t see them. All I saw was her. Jessica. My woman. My anchor. My world. She leaned into me, soft and yeilding, and it felt like the universe itself had collapsed into the heat between us, into the ache in my chest, coiling, burning, demanding.I carried her toward the bedroom, each step slow, deliberate, letting the tension coil around us tighter with every