Page 79 of Titus

I had no idea where I’d lost him, but somewhere between me stepping into this recovery unit and seeing Mickie, Wyatt had disappeared. I had to find a way to properly thank him and Titus for everything, but the second my sister woke up, and tears filled her eyes after saying my name in what sounded like pure relief, nothing else mattered.

I climbed carefully onto the bed, hugging her and holding her as she cried, holding onto me tighter than ever.

We would get through this together. That’s how we grew up. Just her and me, with all odds stacked against us, clawing our way through impossible situations. And this would be no different.

If it meant clearing my schedule until she was off bed rest, then that’s what I’d do. I’d take the financial hit. I’d even live off my savings if I had to. Whatever it took to make sure my sister knew I would always be by her side, even in the scariest of times.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

By the time Amelia was ready to be discharged from Saint John’s two days later, she looked more emotionally exhausted than physically weak. The bleeding had slowed significantly, and the baby still had a heartbeat, and according to Mickie, that was the most important thing.

“Strict but modified bed rest still means strict pelvic rest,” Mickie warned as we walked toward the private elevator outside the recovery suite. “No lifting, no stress, minimal stairs, no work emergencies, and absolutely no pretending you’re fine just because you’re stubborn.”

Amelia managed a tired smile. “I’m not stubborn.”

Mickie smiled at me as I raised an eyebrow at my sister.

“Right,” I answered her, then looked at Mickie. “I’ll be taking some personal days until her friend gets back from the Bahamas and stays with her.” I looked at Amelia. “I’ll ensure you follow Mickie’s orders.”

Amelia smiled at me, then at Mickie.

“I want to see you back here in seventy-two hours,” Mickie continued. “We’ll repeat imaging, measure the hematoma again, confirm fetal cardiac activity, and make sure the bleed hasn’t expanded.”

Amelia nodded quietly.

“And if the bleeding increases or the pain worsens, you call me immediately,” Mickie said.

“We understand,” I answered for both of us.

Mickie’s eyes shifted toward me knowingly. “She’s going to need help over the next couple of weeks, Cat. I’m not sure how many personal days you’re taking?”

“I’ll be by her side for the next two weeks,” I answered. “I have no plans to leave the country right now or after this.”

“Very good,” Mickie said. “I’ll see you in three days.”

My townhouse overlooked Newport Harbor from the cliffs of Corona del Mar, a three-story coastal glass-and-stone residence in soft neutral luxury, tucked behind private gates and towering olive trees.

The place was as peaceful as it was beautiful. And for the first time since I’d returned to the States, I felt my nervous system begin to calm the second we stepped inside.

The windows that made up most of the home flooded the open-concept living area with late-afternoon California sunlight, while cream linen furniture, oversized textured rugs, and soft gold lighting made the entire home feel warm rather than untouchable.

Huge retractable glass walls opened toward a sprawling patio lined with white bougainvillea, sculpted greenery, and an outdoor fireplace overlooking the Pacific in the distance.

From the moment I purchased the place, it felt like the kind of home someone designed, hoping it would eventually hold a family, but I’d only ever planned to live in it alone. Now, here I was, thankful I had it as a lovely place for my sister to share with me while she recovered under Mickie’s restrictions.

“I have more oversized pillows and blankets in my linen closet,” I said, guiding Amelia into my bedroom. “I had my cleaners change the linens on my bed⁠—”

“No,” Amelia cut me off. “I’m not sleeping in your bed.”

I eyed her. “You’re stuck in bed for the next two weeks. Would you rather enjoy a luxurious king-sized bed or the double bed I have in the guest room?” I asked. “That, and,” I clicked the remote for my blackout shades, which immediately opened to reveal the sliding windows showing the greenery on my private patio, “this will be your view.”

“Cat—”

“Good,” I said, knowing she’d just argue with me. “Now get in bed.” I smiled at her. “I’ll go get the pillow and extra blankets while you get comfy.” I stopped before I turned to leave the room. “Oh, and I’m having a flat screen installed this afternoon so you don’t feel isolated to just greenery and cream-colored walls.”

“You’re doing too much,” she said.

“No, I’m taking care of my sister and her baby,” I smiled. “And trying to do a good job of it, by the way.”