The truth is, I’m not okay. Every single time I take my blood pressure and it’s never where it should be, I get more and more anxious. I don’t understand why this is happening; I’ve never dealt with anything like this before getting pregnant, and I like to think I’m a pretty healthy person, but it’s like, no matter what I do, I can’t get the numbers to a more normal level. Even on days like today, when I didn’t work, and there wasn’t a single thing weighing on me and stressing me out, it’s still high.
I can’t shake this feeling that I’m failing—both myself and this baby—and that I’m letting Graham down. It’s my body our child is growing in; it’s my job to keep them safe until they’re ready to be born, and I can’t even get my body to do what it’s meant to do. It’s frustrating and disheartening and unsettling all at the same time. And I know Graham isn’t happy about my decision to keep working, but I’m not happy about it either. I’m well aware that taking the extra time off would be the better option, but I can’t afford that, and I can’t admit that to him because, if I do, he’s going to feel like he needs to carry the weight, and he doesn’t need to do that.
Working right now is the only option, so I’m praying like hell that I can make it to my due date, and that Graham doesn’t press the subject again, but I know he will. Hence why I’m standing at the sink in the dark instead of going back to bed, where I really want to be. After about five more minutes, my feet and back ache, so I finally concede and place the empty glass in the sink before heading down the hall. Once I make sure Biggie Smalls finds his favorite corner of the rug in Ellie Mae’s room, I allow myself a minute to admire her as she sleeps.
How peaceful she looks.
How she doesn’t have a single worry in this world.
Warmth spreads through my chest while I stand here, knowing eight months ago, I never could’ve imagined being here. Never could’ve imagined getting pregnant, or being a mom, or loving somebody else’s child like my own. But I am, and I do. When I look at Ellie Mae, I’m filled with the same emotions I get when the baby kicks, or when I think about holding him or her for the first time. The love I have for her feels no different from the love I have for this beautiful surprise inside of me.
And eight months ago, I never would’ve thought that was possible.
Knowing I can’t put it off any longer, I finally make my way to Graham’s room, my stomach tight and my pulse racing. Maybe he’ll already be asleep. Maybe I can go to sleep too, without having to see the worry in his eyes every time he looks at me. But as I walk into the room and shut the door behind me, I can already see that’s not the case.
Graham is sitting up, his back to the headboard and his knees drawn up, with his arms draped over them. Turning his head at the sound of the creaky door, he doesn’t say anything as I pad over to the bed, nor does he say anything when I climb in beside him, but the silence is loud and says it all.
“I’m okay, Graham,” I say when I can’t take the quiet any longer, hoping it comes off reassuring. “The baby’s okay.We’reokay.”
“But what if next time you’re not okay?” he asks. “This is a huge deal, Charley, and it seems like you aren’t taking it seriously.”
I rear back like his words physically struck me, my heart thumping against my ribs. “Of course, I’m taking it seriously,” I spit out, unable to keep the hurt out of my voice. “I’m doing everything the doctors have been telling me to do. I’m taking care of myself.”
“Except you won’t stop working.” Graham’s gaze turns pleading as he says, “Why can’t you start your maternity leave early, just to be safe, Sunny? I don’t understand why you won’t even consider it.”
Rolling my lips together, I exhale a heavy breath from my nose. “I already told you, I’m not comfortable doing that.”
“Why, though? They can’t fire you for that. It’s against the law.”
My jaw is tight, but I don’t say anything.
“I don’t understand. If the option is available to you, why won’t you take it?”
“Because the option isn’t available, Graham!” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Believe it or not, my bills still have to get paid, even if I’m not working, and I sure as hell don’t have the kind of money saved up for that much time off. I’m barely going to get by with the time I’m taking after the baby is here.”
Graham doesn’t miss a beat. “But I have the money,” he says. “Let me help, Sunny.”
I groan.There it is.There’s the exact reason I didn’t want to say anything. “No, that’s ridiculous, Graham. I’m not letting you do that.”
“Why not?” His brows pinch, and even though I’m frustrated, I can’t help but notice how adorable it is. “I want to help.”
“Because you’ve done enough for me already,” I mutter, silently begging him to understand where I’m coming from. “You let me move in here, and you don’t let me pitch in for rent. Every single time I’ve sent money for groceries or stuff we both use around the house, you send it back. Not to mention, you cook for me all the time. I can’t ask you to pay all my other bills for me too.” My eyes sting. I don’t want to cry. I need to get through this without freaking crying. “This relationship between us is so new, Graham, and it’s not your responsibility to take care of me. You’re a single father who just bought a new house. You have enough on your plate. It would be different if we were married, but we aren’t. We aren’t even officially in a relationship yet. We’re taking it slow. Becoming my sugar daddy isnottaking it slow.”
“You’re wrong,” he grits out, the roughness in his tone causing my heart to thrash. “It is my responsibility, because this is as much my baby as it is yours. It absolutelyismy responsibility to help, to lighten your plate so you can focus on growing our child. Not only that, but also, nothing would make me happier than to be able to take care of you so you canrest and take it easy. I’m not asking you to quit your job and never work again, Sunny. I would never do that, because I know how important this career is to you. I’m simply asking that you consider thisfor now.”
“Graham, please…” My throat’s on fire, and I can’t breathe. “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s too much.”
“Damnit, Charley!” he shouts, taking me by surprise. Grahamneverraises his voice, to anybody. “You aren’t asking, I’m offering, so please stop being so fucking stubborn. Let me do this for you,please.” The way his voice cracks shatters something inside me. “I can’t lose you, and whether you want to admit it or not, there’s a real possibility that could happen if you keep working and keep stressing yourself out.Please,Sunny.”
There’s desperation in his tone.
There’s panic.
Despite my best efforts, pressure builds behind my eyes, my vision blurs, and the back of my throat aches. I can’t swallow it down. Especially not when I see the first tear spill over and stream down Graham’s cheek.
“I can’t fucking lose you, Sunny,” he croaks. “I can’t, and Ellie Mae can’t lose another mom. We need you. This baby needs you.” Hearing those words, hearing the hysteria behind them, and watching as Graham breaks down right in front of me… Everything hits me like a Mack truck, and I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner. “I can’t do this without you, Sunny. I don’t want to. Please let me do this for you. I love you so goddamn much, and I can’t stand the thought of something happening to you. It’s all I can think about lately, no matter what. I can’t stop worrying. Please Sunny?—”
“Hey, Graham, it’s okay. Take a breath,” I say softly, bringing my hands up to cup his face while my pulse races a mile a minute at what he just said.
