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“Do you think it’s maybe because you miss working?”

“I don’t know. It was fun doing those things for Lizzy. I was thinking about maybe asking her if she wanted me to help her. What do you think?”

When he laughs, I feel unsure of myself for a moment. But then, he says, “That sounds like you’re asking me for permission.” The nightlight in our room, which is there in case the girls wander in, is bright enough that I can see the amusement in his eyes. “You really are sick, aren’t you?”

I slap his shoulder. “Don’t fool yourself. I’m only asking because that’s what wives are supposed to do. Ask their husbands for their opinions about potentially big decisions.”

“You didn’t ask me when you wanted to buy the SUV. You came home and said, ‘Scott, we need to buy me an SUV. Let’s go.’”

Okay, so, he’s got me there. I was so sick of my car. We were carrying around too much

crap thanks to having kids and I needed more room. One day, I was so fed up, I did just what he said. “Answer my question. I’m tired and I want to go back to sleep.”

“If that’s what you want to do, do it. I don’t know if you and Lizzy will be able to work together, but it’s worth a shot.”

“What do you mean?”

“You went three months without talking to her because of something that was completely up to her.”

“Oh, that’s totally different. We can easily work together.”

He shrugs and leans in to kiss me softly. “Get some sleep. I’ll take care of the girls this week until we’re sure you’re feeling better.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Unfortunately, I can’t fall asleep for the nausea. All I do is stare at the ceiling because lying on my back is the least-nauseous position. Scott sleeps peacefully. That’s good, I know, but it irks me for the simple fact that I want to be sleeping too. I’m exhausted. I’m pretty sure my bones are weary and my blood moves sluggishly through my body. Damn, I’ve never felt like this.

My mind wanders. I can’t wait to buy baby clothes once Lizzy finds out what she’s having. Too bad I eventually got rid of all the baby things from Stella and Stephanie. She could’ve had some of those items. It seems like it’s baby central around here with the Rebels. EJ has a baby girl, Ian and his wife, Sydney, will be welcoming a baby boy here soon, and now Lizzy’s pregnant.

I used to dream about having a big family. All I ever wanted was to be a mom. And then, all I wanted was to have one kid. I prayed over and over and over. Let me get pregnant, just once. Give me just one kid. That wasn’t ever happening. Not in the traditional route, at least. Since we adopted the girls, we haven’t talked about possibly expanding the family further by adopting another child. Things have felt perfect and fulfilling with our family of four.

Not to mention that for the longest time, I didn’t want to jinx the blessing we’d been given by asking for more. I still don’t. Bad things happen when you get greedy. Bad things happen when you take for granted something you thought would be possible that apparently isn’t possible in the slightest. It’s why I thank my lucky stars every single day for the life I have and the people who are in it.

“Momma?”

I sit up at the sound of Stella’s voice. “What is it?”

“I threw up.”

As she steps closer, there’s vomit all over her pajamas. Oh great. We’re both sick. I get out of bed to get her changed into a new pair of pajamas and find her sheets covered in puke. Once I get her changed, I put her in bed with Scott and clean her bed, hoping it doesn’t trigger me to puke myself.

“Momma?” Stephanie wakes up and looks a little greenish.

“Run to the bathroom, sweetie.”

I’m on her heels. At least she makes it to the toilet and I don’t have to clean anything up. I’m getting more and more tired. We finally make it to my bed. Stella is curled against Scott, who is none the wiser that our bed is about to be more crammed. Stephanie lies next to her sister and then I lie next to her. I knew investing in a big bed would be worth it. A quick glance at the clock shows it’s around four in the morning. Let’s just hope Scott doesn’t catch whatever we have. That’s the last thought I have as I finally drift to sleep.

With me way across the bed from Scott, all I get in the morning is a hand squeezing mine as he pulls my arm across the girls toward him so he can kiss the inside of my wrist. He has to have some sort of contact in the morning and with the girls between us, that’s the best he can do. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Now, why are there two little girls in my bed?”

“They woke up puking. We’re sick.”

He frowns. “My girls are sick?”

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