CHAPTER 209: TRUSTING AGAIN

Joanne raised a brow. "Dangerous? You’re the one who almost pounced."

Jeffrey gritted his teeth, eyes darkening again for a beat before he physically shook it off. He placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. He then cleared his throat and turned abruptly toward the breakfast table. "Come eat," he said, his voice tight with restraint.

Joanne smiled as she followed him. There was something absurdly sweet about the way he tried to control himself, like a teenage boy in love for the first time, even though they had already lived through so much.

The way he kept stealing glances at her legs and her face, and then forcing himself to focus on the task at hand, made her heart flutter and laugh at the same time. She giggled as he plated her food, taking special care with every spoonful.

"What?" Jeffrey looked up, puzzled and bashful all at once.

Joanne sat down across from him, crossing her legs without much thought, though the move seemed to derail his focus instantly. His eyes flickered down, then snapped back up... barely.

"Horny teenager," she teased, her smile curling with mischief.

"I am," Jeffrey said, unashamed. "You’re the first girl in my room."

Joanne’s eyebrows lifted. "Stop this!" She knew he was exaggerating. He was thirty-one and he was telling her that he never brought a girl home? Yeah, right.

But Jeffrey looked serious. She furrowed her brows. "Are you serious?"

Jeffrey chuckled. "Grandpa’s always been strict. No girlfriends in the house, especially not in our rooms. I’ve lived here all my life. So, yeah... you’re the only one."

"You’re telling me I’m the only woman who’s ever slept in this bed with you?" she asked, her tone halfway between skeptical and delighted.

Jeffrey placed the plate in front of her and leaned in slightly, his gaze soft. "You are. And you’ll be the last. That’s a promise."

Joanne felt something flutter inside her, something delicate and warm and steady. "I’m happy," she said softly, as if sealing his words into her heart.

She took a bite of the breakfast and her eyes widened slightly with surprise. "I can’t believe how good your grandmother’s cooking is..." she murmured. Every bite felt like care. It didn’t upset her stomach the way most things did these days and it comforted her. "Reminds me of my grandmother..."

Jeffrey watched her, quietly taking in the light in her eyes as she spoke of family and comfort. That look, that gentle, vulnerable expression she had on her face... he could live his whole life just trying to preserve it. She had struggled a lot and deserved a life full of ease and adoration, and he was going to give her just that.

Her phone rang just as she picked up her fork again. Before she could react, Jeffrey was already reaching for it.

"Eat," he said gently. "I’ve got it."

She gave a tiny nod, still chewing, while he glanced at the screen. It was Patrick. Without hesitation, he answered.

"Hello, Patrick," Jeffrey said.

There was a pause—an unspoken weight passing through the silence.

"So... she’s with you." Patrick’s voice was quiet, even. "Fine, then. I’ll take care of everything here. You better take good care of her, Jeffrey."

The line went dead.

Jeffrey didn’t react, just slipped the phone onto the table and returned to her side. Almost immediately, her phone started chiming again, with emails this time.

Joanne gave him her passcode without even needing to be asked, trusting him with her whole digital life. He managed her inbox while she ate, calmly responding to what he could, glancing at her only when clarification was needed. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t fumble; he simply took care of her.

Once she finished, she leaned back, a hand resting lightly over her stomach. With him handling her business, she did feel relaxed. Also, getting her tummy filled after a long while, helped a lot too.

"Aren’t you going to work?" she asked, her tone light, almost teasing. "It’s office hours. Don’t tell me the great Mr. Winchester is playing hooky."

Jeffrey hesitated. The truth was, yes, he had things to attend to. Calls to take. Meetings to lead. But how could he leave her now?

"Shall we go out to buy clothes for you instead?" he offered, his voice softer, hopeful.

Joanne opened one eye and gave him a pointed look. "Go to the office. I’m not going to be your femme fatale, seducing you into skipping work. Get lost," she added, waving her hand dismissively like a queen sending her knight off to war.

His entire family was in the house as she gathered. And if his grandfather didn’t allow girlfriends to stay in the house, since she was staying with Jeffrey, all eyes would be on them. She didn’t want them to have more reasons for them to find fault with Jeffrey.

He grinned. "What if you need help? We still need to schedule that doctor’s appointment."

"I’ll call you if I need anything. How does that sound?" she said, tilting her head. "We can see the doctor this evening."

Her voice was steady now, and he could see she meant it. Whatever vulnerability had spilled out that morning, she’d tucked it away neatly. She was herself again—sharp, composed, grounded.

"Will you be okay?" he asked, still unsure. The image of her crying that morning still haunted the edges of his mind.

"I’m just pregnant, Jeffrey. I’m not dying," she said. Her smile held the barest edge of irony, though her eyes softened with affection. She knew what he was thinking. And she loved him for it.

Jeffrey sighed, but finally relented.

"Just... arrange something for my clothes," she added. "I’ll handle the rest."

He nodded, kissed her forehead with the quiet reverence he’d carried since waking beside her, and left.

Even after the door clicked softly shut behind him, his warmth lingered in the room, like the scent of him on his sweatshirt she wore, like the comfort of his hands still brushing through her hair. Joanne tried to stay awake, but her body, now quietly exhausted, didn’t agree. She drifted off into sleep before she even realized her eyes had closed.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept before the knocking came—gentle but persistent. Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked against the daylight. She slipped out of bed, swaying slightly as the sudden movement sent a wave of dizziness rushing to her head.

As she opened the door, the world tilted.

She gripped the frame for balance, her vision dimming for a breath too long, just as a voice filtered in—muffled and distant, as though underwater.