His Private Chef (by Amycee) novel Chapter 140

Chapter 140

The first bite melted on my tongue, technically flawless, perfectly balanced. But somehow, it fell flat. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was me.

“Tasteless,” I murmured, setting the fork down.

Liam looked at me, brows lifting. “Easy, chef. You’re insulting a kitchen people book a year advance for.”

“So I’m not allowed to have an opinion now?” I shot back, meeting his eyes.

“That’s not what I…”

“I don’t want it,” I snapped, pushing my chair back.

in

I caught the confusion on his face as I stormed into the bathroom. Closing the door, I leaned over the counter, staring at my reflection. My pulse was racing, my chest tight.

Why was I overreacting?

I inhaled, exhaled, then decided to go back out and apologize.

But I only made it three steps into the room before the world tilted. Everything went black. The last thing I heard was Liam’s voice, raw with panic, calling my name.

Salt and cool air moved across my skin as I drifted awake. The ceiling fan hummed. Somewhere outside, water touched the shore in a slow, steady rhythm.

“Emily.” Liam’s voice was right beside me, cracked at the edges. “Open your eyes.”

I did. His face was too close and not close enough. Hair messed, knuckles white where he held my hand. Fear sat in his eyes like it had been there a while.

“You’re safe. We’re in the suite,” he told me, like he was coaxing the memory out. “You fainted. The medic’s here.”

A woman in linen stepped into view with a blood pressure cuff and a calm smile. My mouth was dry. My head felt light, as if it had been hollowed out.

“Your blood pressure’s low,” she said after glancing at the monitor. “You’re dehydrated. We’ll start fluids. Any chance your period’s late?”

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Chapter 140

I looked at Liam, then back at her. “Maybe. 1… haven’t been paying attention.

She nodded, matter–of–fact “That can do it. Early pregnancy can make you lightheaded, especially with travel, heat, and not enough water. Sip this slowly.” She passed me a cold electrolyte drink. “Rest for a few hours. If you feel dizzy again, we can start an IV. but let’s try this first.

When she left, the room fell quiet except for the ocean’s pulse. Liam was still looking at me, like the words about a late period were stuck somewhere in his head, turning over and over.

“Pregnant.” he said slowly, as if the word might bite.

“It sounds impossible.” I whispered. “But… what if.”

He squeezed my hand. “We’re not guessing. We’re going home. I’ll bring you back here, I promise, but I need an answer I can hold in my hands. We should see a doctor I trust in L.A.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He exhaled, kissed my forehead, and started moving. Calls. Bags. Boat. Plane. All of it smooth and quiet, the way he does things when the only thing that matters is me.

On the flight he kept pretending not to fuss, adjusting my blanket, switching my water for a fresh one before I could ask, watching me even when his eyes were on the window. Hope pressed against fear in my chest the whole way.

The car was waiting at the steps in L.A. The hospital he and his family support was already ready for us. No lobby. No forms. A nurse met us with a gentle voice and a vein that behaved on the first try.

“Results will be quick,” she said. “Sit tight.”

We waited in a small room that smelled like cotton and hand soap. Liam rubbed my forearm in slow lines. I watched the clock and felt every second like a drip inside a cave.

The door eased open, and a tall man in a white coat stepped in with an easy familiarity.

“Liam,” he greeted, clasping his shoulder before looking at me. His expression softened. “Emily… congratulations. You’re pregnant.”

Everything after that turned into half–heard pieces. Hydrate. Rise slowly. Small, frequent meals. Start prenatal vitamins with folate. Call if there is bleeding, fainting again, anything that scares you. Schedule an ultrasound in a couple of weeks to date the pregnancy.

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