The Warmest Winter✓

Forty-eight

A taxi pulls over in front of the gate as the clock strikes seven in the evening. As I exit, I see Mr. Prescott's Mercedes getting out of the house. The headlights flash in my direction and soon the car halts. 

I walk over slowly, wondering what's happening. Surprise washes over me when I learn that Liam is inside the car, and in a few seconds he strides out and slams the backdoor heavily. My heartbeat accelerates as our eyes meet.

"Are you okay?" Liam asks flatly, a small furrow between his eyebrows.

He's still dressed the same way he was this morning, which can only mean he hasn't been home longer.

"I am," I reply in a low voice. "Are you heading somewhere?"

"Get in the car," he orders monotonously, neglecting my query.

"Okay." I don't reproach him. 

Obediently, I clamber inside the car and the two of us sit in the back, saying no word. It's scary, but I'm too overwhelmed with my health matters  to be afraid of my husband right now. 

"We can go back," Liam says, talking to Mr. Prescott who's silent in his driver seat. 

The engine roars and the gate slides open once again. Mr. Prescott drives back inside, and it's already too dark to call it early—which is so weird given that I'd be roaming in Venice without worrying a thing if I were back in L.A.

We head straight to our bedroom once we reach inside the house. I drop my bag gently on the bedside table, step out of my heels, tired, both physically and emotionally, before glancing up at Liam who's locking the door behind him. 

"Where have you been?" he asks casually, his voice dry. He doesn't sound angry, but rather displeased.  

"I was at the park," I reply. 

"The park?" Liam scoffs, shaking his head to the sides. "And you decided to ignore my calls? You didn't even bother letting anyone know of your whereabouts, Kira! Do you have any idea how worried I was?" he snaps angrily.

I don't know how to respond, so I just stare at him. Huffing, he takes a deep breath, his face darker as he tries to be cool, eyeing me.

"What's wrong with you, Kira? Can you at least say something? You owe me an explanation, don't you think?" He's agitated, anger and confusion clouding his intelligence. 

As for me, I'm just thinking of ways to break the news to him. How do I say that I'm not going to get him a child as he wishfully thinks? Suppose I do it, how will he react? It drives me nuts. 

"I'm sorry about not picking your calls. I don't even know how I missed them," I start, and he doesn't seem to understand anything. "Besides, it's only seven and I'm home already, so I don't understand why you're fussing." I begin unbuttoning my coat.

"Fussing." Liam smirks, unappreciative of my comment. "This is London, Kira! You're new here, and just so you know . . . Seven in here, especially during Winter, is like midnight in Los Angeles! Why did you go to the hospital again?"

Jesus! Not the hospital talk. 

"I told you I wanted to talk to Dr. Adams regarding our plans to have a child, didn't I?" I peel the coat off my body.