He hadn't left the house yet. Unusual for him, sure—but something about last night had shifted things inside him. The way Bella curled into his chest before falling asleep. The way she whispered that she didn't want to be left in the dark.
He wasn't used to people needing him that gently. Without fear. Without an angle.
Now, as he walked out of the shower with a towel draped over his neck, he heard something—off. Not the usual clatter of Rachel's toys or Bella humming in the kitchen.
Silence. And then—
"Lucas…"
Her voice, faint. Too faint.
He found her in the living room—pale, gripping the edge of the console table, one hand pressed to her forehead.
"Bella?"
She looked up, eyes unfocused, skin clammy. "I think I'm gonna—"
He caught her before her knees buckled, arms wrapping around her instinctively.
She didn't pass out—but she leaned heavily against him, shaking. "I felt dizzy all of a sudden… everything went blurry."
"Shh, I've got you. Don't talk," he whispered, cradling her closer. His heart pounded against his ribs. "Let me help you sit down first."
He carried her to the couch, gently lowering her into the cushions like she might break. Rachel, who had been playing quietly with her bunny in the next room, peeked in and gasped. "Mama?"
Lucas forced a calm voice. "It's alright, munchkin. Mama's just tired. Can you bring her some water?"
Rachel nodded, darting off. Bella tried to sit up straighter. "It's probably just nothing. I didn't sleep much… maybe low sugar or—"
"Stop trying to explain it away," he cut in, kneeling beside her now. "You're pregnant. You're allowed to have bad days. But you don't get to scare me like that. You should have told me sooner if you are feeling well. What if I had not heard your voice?"
Her gaze softened as she reached up to touch his face. "You're scared?" She didn't even know why she asked that, but whenever he is with her, her heart overpowers her brain.
Lucas exhaled, forehead resting briefly against her knee. "You don't know what it does to me seeing you like that."
Rachel returned, handing Bella the water with both hands. "Mama, drink it."
Lucas helped her drink as Bella chuckled weakly. "Thanks, baby."
After helping her eat something light and checking her temperature twice, Lucas finally sat beside her again—this time holding her hand like she might disappear if he let go.
"You're going to rest today. No exceptions and I will stay at home to do all the work," he said firmly.
Bella, still looking pale but smiling more, leaned her head against his shoulder. "I don't think I'm arguing."
He kissed the top of her head. "Good. Because if you try to do anything today other than sleep or let me take care of you, I will call your doctor."
"Control freak," she muttered.
"Only for you."
By early afternoon, the warmth in Bella's cheeks wasn't from the sun.
She'd fallen asleep on the couch wrapped in a blanket and Lucas didn't shifted her to the bed as he didn't want to disturb her. Rachel, who had been quietly coloring in the corner, looked up and knew that something felt off. She went to call her dad from the kitchen, who was busy preparing for the lunch.
He came running after Rachel told him that Bella is looking sick. Her skin looked too flushed. He crouched beside her and touched her forehead. Hot. Too hot. His pulse immediately spiked.
"Bella," he said softly, brushing her hair back. "Wake up for me."
She stirred, her brow creasing. "Lucas?"
"You're burning up," he said gently. "Can you sit up? We need to check your temperature."
Bella struggled upright, eyes glassy. "I'm okay, just a little warm."
He didn't argue. He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with the thermometer.
101.9°F. Too close to danger for his liking, especially while pregnant.
"Mama's sick?" Rachel stepped out from behind him and put her little hands on Bella's cheek.
Lucas forced a calm smile. "A little. Like when you get tired and need cuddles."
"I'll bring bunny," Rachel declared, and dashed off.
Lucas guided Bella to their bedroom, tucked her into the blankets, and handed her a glass of water and paracetamol.
"You're not getting up for anything," he said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Not even for the dinner. I will take care of everything."
Bella gave a weak laugh. "That's a shame. I had plans to start a five-course meal."
Lucas smiled, but the worry in his eyes didn't fade.
"You should call the doctor," she murmured, voice raspy. "Just to be safe."
"I already did," he said. "They'll send someone over in an hour."
She blinked. "You don't waste time, do you?"
"Not when it comes to you."
As Bella drifted into another restless sleep, Lucas sat nearby, fingers tangled in hers, watching the rise and fall of her breathing.
His phone buzzed against the side table. He stared at it for a second before picking it up.
Mark.
He answered quietly. "Yeah?"
Mark's voice was tense. "We've got a problem."
Lucas's spine straightened. "What kind?"
"The Marseilles base. It was hit last night. The warehouse is damaged, along with the incoming shipment. They came through the east dock—no cameras picked them up."
Lucas's expression turned cold. "Our contact was compromised?"
"Looks like it. Two men injured. One unconscious. The new supplier pulled back—says they're out unless you give a personal guarantee of protection."
Lucas didn't speak right away.
"Not if we move fast. But we need you to make a call. Now."
Lucas looked over at Bella—face pale, body fragile under the blankets. He rubbed a hand over his jaw.
"I can't leave right now," he said quietly. "Tell them I'll call in two hours. And double the guard at the Marseille docks."
"Got it." Mark paused. "You okay?"
Lucas glanced at Bella again.
"I will be."
He ended the call and sat in silence, one world unraveling in his ear, the other world curled up in bed beside him.
And for the first time in a long time, Lucas realized—he couldn't afford to lose either.