Love Rents A Room
Chapter 222: Axis Of Her Universe

Chapter 222: Axis Of Her Universe

Joanne woke to a scene so still, so quietly golden, that for a second she thought she might still be dreaming.

The vast bedroom was hushed, save for the soft rustle of distant trees and the faint chorus of birdsong rising with the morning light. A thin blade of sunshine slipped through the gap between the heavy drapes, casting a warm stripe across the cool marble floor. It carried with it the crisp, clean scent of late winter—earthy and new, like the beginning of something.

But none of that made her heart skip.

What stole her breath was the man beside her.

Jeffrey sat quietly at the edge of the bed, leaning on one arm, his broad shoulders relaxed and bare. He had shielded her eyes from the sun with the gentle canopy of his hand—his fingers, warm and familiar, casting a soft shadow across her face. That simple gesture, tender and instinctive, was what woke her.

A slow smile tugged at her lips. She reached up and traced the line of his jaw—sharp and slightly rough beneath her fingertips. Her touch paused at his lips.

"Hello there... my handsome fiancé," she murmured, a quiet laugh in her throat. It still felt surreal... being here, waking up to him, wearing his ring. Having his child.

Jeffrey’s lips curved, but before he could speak, her smile faltered.

The churning in her stomach came fast, a rolling wave that turned delight into dread.

Joanne sighed, her hand instinctively moving to her belly. Her body was already preparing for battle—round one of what promised to be a long campaign of morning sickness.

But even through the nausea, her heart fluttered with memory.

The heartbeat.

That miraculous, rapid sound they’d heard the night before. It had been tiny and steady and strong. She had cried then, and she nearly cried now, remembering. It didn’t just feel like love... it felt like creation... like that sound was the axis of her universe.

Her lips curved.

Jeffrey noticed the change in her expression and shifted closer, brushing the hair off her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. "Yes, my dearest fiancée..." he whispered, and lay down beside her, pulling her into the warm arc of his chest.

Joanne closed her eyes and pressed closer, letting the quiet wash over them like a tide. For a time, they simply breathed together, entangled, and whole.

Until it began.

The nausea surged. She was up in an instant, rushing to the en suite bathroom with a groan. Jeffrey was there right behind her, kneeling beside her as she gripped the edge of the porcelain and emptied her stomach. He didn’t flinch. He held her hair back, rubbed soothing circles on her back, whispered useless comforts and made them feel like gold.

When it was finally over, she collapsed against him with a weak laugh. "Remind me again why people do this willingly?"

He kissed the top of her head. "Because it leads to someone who might have your eyes."

Just then, a knock on the door—soft, polite.

Jeffrey opened it slightly to find a tray outside, set with a chilled glass of juice. A small note rested beside it in Christina’s graceful hand: For Joanne. Hope it helps. — C.

Joanne drank slowly, grateful for the cool relief. Only then did she feel human again.

They returned to bed, the world outside slowly waking up.

And for a while, they remained exactly where they wanted to be—together, in the stillness of a morning that felt like the beginning of everything.

"I should get back," Joanne murmured, her cheek resting gently against his chest.

Jeffrey’s hand, which had been slowly rubbing her back in idle comfort, paused. "But!"

That one word escaped him too quickly, too loudly: an instinctive protest borne from surprise.

Joanne smiled, her lips brushing the fabric of his shirt as she nestled in closer. The protest softened in his throat, and he wrapped his arms around her again, exhaling deeply. He didn’t say another word, but she could feel it in the way he held her... that silent plea, that reluctant understanding. He didn’t want to let her go.

And it was lovely, really, to be with someone who understood her so well without needing to explain anything.

"I know you left everything behind to come here," he said at last, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. "The animals, the estate—they need you. But... can you stay for a week? Or two days, at least?" He shifted slightly to look at her, concern creasing his brow. "Jo, how can you travel like this?"

She tilted her head up to meet his eyes, a gentle firmness in her gaze. "The doctor said it’s perfectly safe for me to travel. I’m only thirty-two, well, thirty-three days in, Jeff."

He sighed again, this time deeper, longer, and pulled her even closer. His nose buried in her hair as he breathed her in. "I know... but I still don’t want to let you go."

Joanne melted into his embrace, her fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his shirt. A quiet realization began to creep into her mind. How are we going to make this work—really work—after we’re married? Winchester and Rockchapel were separated by nearly eight hours of flight time. It wasn’t a simple matter of driving across town.

Jeffrey had his responsibilities here. She had hers back there.

She couldn’t picture them living apart after their wedding. That wasn’t how marriage worked. Not for her. And certainly not with a baby on the way.

Would Jeffrey give up his place at Winchester Logistics? she wondered. Should he? Would she expect him to? A part of her had to admit, maybe she hadn’t worried about it until now because some quiet, steady part of her trusted that Jeffrey had already figured it out.

She didn’t even get the chance to ask.

"We need to have a photoshoot," Jeffrey said suddenly, the spark of an idea lighting in his voice. "To announce our engagement. And we have to start arranging everything... the wedding invitations, the venue, the cake, the~"

Joanne let out a soft laugh. "There’s a lot to do, isn’t there?"

He grinned. "An overwhelming amount."

"Then we should have the wedding before the end of spring," she said, her fingers brushing over her still-flat belly in a quiet, protective motion. There was a wistfulness in her voice now, tinged with an old-fashioned grace. "I don’t want to be waddling down the aisle."

Jeffrey chuckled. "You’d be beautiful no matter what."

"And," she added under her breath, "Grandpa would roll in his grave if I had a child before walking down the aisle."

"Spring? Not early summer?" Jeffrey asked, brow lifting as he looked down at her. "I thought we’d get married on the anniversary of the day we met last year."

There was a flicker of surprise in his voice—not disappointment, just the quiet marvel of a man continually humbled by how deeply she aligned with the people he loved, even when he least expected it. It shouldn’t have caught him off guard, but somehow, it still did.

Joanne’s lips curved, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of his shirt. "I want to be your wife, already carrying your child, on the anniversary of the day we met," she said softly.

Jeffrey’s heart clenched in the best way. That was... beautiful. She wasn’t just thinking sentimentally. She was building a life, weaving meaning into time itself. He’d thought he’d have to convince her... to sway her into the summer timeline he preferred. But she was already aligning with the spring timeline his Grandpa preferred.

He smiled, a slow, full smile that reached his eyes, and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

"To be precise," Joanne murmured, resting her head just under his chin, "that wasn’t the first time we met."

Jeffrey’s hum was curious. "No?"

"No," she said, amusement twinkling in her voice. "We first met when I was twelve. A week later than this date, actually."

Right. That.

He hadn’t forgotten, not exactly. But that wasn’t the first image that came to mind when he thought of her. When she lived in his memory, it was with rolled-up sleeves and dirty hands, smiling over a newborn goat in a Rockchapel barn. The woman who worked, who gave her heart quietly and completely.

"You remember the date?" he asked, half-teasing, half-intrigued.

Joanne offered a wry smile, her voice dipped in irony. "I get a fever around that time every year."

Jeffrey’s chest tightened. It wasn’t just a date, it was the start of everything. Her first crush. Her first love. Her first kiss, even if it had only landed on her cheek. And more than that, it was wrapped in the trauma of Caruso’s violence, the night she almost died, the night he nearly did. A tangle of memory and pain and longing that lived inside her for years, while he, stupidly, forgot.

Or maybe not forgot. Maybe just... buried it too deep to reach.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, he pulled her close and kissed her forehead again, a long, silent vow pressed into her skin.

"This year," he said gently, "I’ll be by your side. As your husband."

Joanne closed her eyes, letting that promise settle into her. Solid. Sure. The axis of her universe, finally right.