I woke up sore, naked, and alone—sunlight pouring through the open curtains like an unwanted spotlight on the disaster that was me. The sheets tangled around my legs felt far too warm, my back ached in ways that could only be explained by one thing, and the faintest shimmer of scent in the room made it obvious what I'd done.
I begged him.
I actually begged Levi to give me another baby. All because of some stupid whispered comment at the ceremony—some fancy-dressed woman talking about how nice it'd be if our second child looked just like me. And I let that nonsense live in my head long enough to let it crawl down into my hormones and convince me to all but mount Levi like a madman.
The crumpled note beside me read:
"Went to get Edward Flannigan. Rest. Love you. —L."
Edward Flannigan?
Rebecca's brother?
