Chapter Two Hundred and Forty Four

Leo’s POV

I walk back into the room to her knuckles white as snow.

She’s hiding pain from me again and the only pain that would make sense is labour pains.

She’s been in a quiet mood since this morning, having not spoken much as we left and her excitement to be in our own home again has been lacking.

But I know confronting her will only cause he anxiety so I pretend I haven’t see anything, and instead being the bag of clothes I had chosen in Theo’s small town of shops the other day.

“What’s this?” She asks.

“Clothes I chose for Arlo, some small onesies and outfits,” I tell her.

She breaks her cold exterior for only a moment as she pours the contents of clothes inside the cot.

She segregated them into piles of style, keeping all the onsie’s together and the vests, even the little outfits and she fingers the material and just stares at the clothes.

And from where I’m stood this is the break in her facade, the opening of the flood gates so to speak.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” I ask with