As the stretcher enters the elevator, it jolts slightly. "Watch it," Evan snaps at the nurses. Terrified he'll miss something, he doesn't look away from Avery's face. He tightly grips the corner of the stretcher and follows her to a luxury ICU room.

The nurses efficiently change the IV bag and attach Avery to a heart monitor. They nod politely at Evan and file out of the room, but he barely notices them. Avery looks pale and strangely swollen. Her breathing is shallow, but the steady blips of the heart monitor reassure him.

He gently runs one finger across her forehead, down her cheek and around her lips. Her skin is soft and warm—too warm. Slowly and carefully, he leans down and brushed his lips against her forehead as delicately as if he were touching a butterfly wing. Then he takes her slender hand in his large, rough one.

Somethings twists painfully inside him. She looks so small and defenseless in the large hospital bed. He rubs her hand and strokes her exposed arm. "Avery, you'll be alright," he whispers, "I won't let anything happen to you or the baby." But his words sound empty aloud—he knows he's powerless to help her now.

There's a small boy who looks just like Evan did in his baby pictures. He sits on a red tricycle and blows a soap bubble. His lips sputter, and the bubble grows bigger and bigger before it breaks free from the wand and drifts up in the air. The boy laughs with delight and blows more. The bubbles turn colorful in the sun, and the boy chases after them on his trike.

"Mommy! Mommy! Look!" the little boy shouts. He hops off his bicycle and runs toward Avery, holding his arms in front of him so she can pick him up. Before he can reach her, Evan swoops him up and puts him on his strong shoulders. The boy squirms with happiness.

Evan turns his back to Avery and walks with the child toward the sun. Avery squints at their silhouettes. "Evan—wait for me!" she shouts. He doesn't seem to hear her, and she calls out for him again and again as he walks away and disappears from sight.

With a gasp, Avery opens her eyes. A blurry round shape comes closer to her head. She blinks, and Evan's tired and careworn face gets clearer. There are dark circles under his eyes and creases in his forehead. His suit is wrinkled and stained, and his hair is standing on end.

"Did you dream about me?" he whispers. "Tell me what happened."

Avery blinks groggily. Her throat feels dry, and her mouth tastes like cotton. "No, I didn't," she croaks. "How long have I been out?"

"A while—you had a lot of healing to do," Evan says.

Avery looks around the room without really seeing it. Bits and pieces of her ordeal in the helicopter come flashing back. Suddenly, she gasps and reaches for her abdomen. "The baby?" she asks.

"The baby is okay, but you both need to rest," Evan says. "I'm not going to lie to you, the situation is dangerous, but I think you can both pull through it. And I'll be here every step of the way."

Avery slowly exhales, and Evan places a gentle hand on her forehead. The weight of his palm is calming, and she closes her eyes again. Evan strokes her forehead, and she feels his warm breath on her ear.

"You can't sleep yet, darling," he whispers. "The doctors say you need to try to eat some real food. They're bringing porridge for you soon. Does that sound good?"

Avery shakes her head. The thought of food makes her stomach turn and her headache. He keeps his face next to her ear, and the intimacy makes her uncomfortable. Abruptly, she turns her head away from him and stares at the abstract watercolors on the wall.

"Hey, Avery," Evan says, gently taking her earlobe between his fingers.

"What is it?" she asks.

"What should I do?" Evan asks, his voice deep and low. "I want to kiss you."

Avery closes her eyes as a mix of emotions rush through her: embarrassment, anger, desire—she can't tell which she feels most strongly. Her heart thuds in her chest, and the monitor beeps at a faster speed. She blushes to know that Evan could hear her reaction to him.

"Don't be shy, wife," Evan says.

"Who are you calling your wife?" Avery snaps, feeling her face grow even hotter.

She thinks about Evan making love with Leonie in her bed, and her anger grows. It doesn't matter that he was drugged, seeing them together hurt her in ways she never knew she could be hurt. She frowns as Evan's cool lips brush against hers, but she can't help but respond to his kiss.

He gently opens her mouth and slides his tongue in. He's light and teasing until she moans into his mouth. He groans and seems to lose control, deepening the kiss. She clutches his arm and kisses him back, growing dizzy with the intensity of it. When he finally pulled away, she's gasping for breath, and her heart monitor is beeping out of control.

He glances between her and the monitor and smirks. She wants to pull the sheets up over her head, but he's already bending down to kiss her again. Her heart thuds in anticipation, but she forces herself to place her hand on his chest and push. "Evan, don't," she says, "I'm not well."

His expression instantly changes from flirtatious to worried. He gently strokes her shoulder. "I'm sorry I lost control," he whispers. "If you let me kiss you again, I promise to be gentle."

He kisses one corner of her mouth and then the other. His lips are soft and light against hers, and he kisses her slowly. The heart monitor beeps just as loudly and quickly. Her entire body feels warm and molten. She wants him desperately, and she arches up toward him and deepens the kiss.

Evan groans and tangles his hands in her hair, sliding into the bed beside her. Quickly he hovers over her, supporting his weight on his elbows, so he doesn't hurt her. Though his body only barely brushes hers, she can feel his warmth and arousal. She moans quietly, and then Evan breaks the kiss and jumps out of bed.

"You tempt me so," he whispers roughly. He paces the room several times, rubbing his temples and taking deep breaths. Suddenly he stops and turns to look at her. "Why did you ask me who I was calling a wife? It's you—you're my wife. You're my wife now and forever. You're meant to be my wife."

The intensity of his gaze in unbearable, and she closes her eyes to avoid it. "We signed a divorce agreement," she says. "I'm not your wife."

"We'll get married again," Evan says as if another wedding is the most obvious solution in the world.

Avery smiles at his confidence, but then she freezes. She remembers a clause in the divorce agreement that said that she'd have to sever all ties with the Howel family. At the time, she signed eagerly—excited to never see or talk to another Howel again. Now she regrets everything.

"What's the matter with you?" Evan asks, "Don't you believe me when I say I want to marry you again? I'd marry you again every day for the rest of my life if I had to."

Avery shakes her head. It doesn't matter if that's impossible, she thinks. If I don't lose this baby, I'll probably die giving birth to it. The marriage would be pointless anyway. Better to let Evan live with this hope a little longer.