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“Where am I staying?” I ask Easton, realizing the guest room is now a nursery.
“My room,” he answers without hesitation. “If you want, I can sleep on the couch.”
I don't respond to that, mainly because I don't have the mental capacity to unpack that statement right now. Instead, he follows me as I march upstairs and into his room. As he gets inside, carrying my bags, I point to the corner.
“You can just put them over there.”
He does as I say, but he genuinely looks a little uncomfortable. Maybe he's realizing that he was a little out of line to demand I stay here. Or he's not used to getting an attitude from me. But right now, he kind of deserves one. As he goes to walk out of the room, I open my mouth.
“Let's get one thing straight,” I say confidently. “I came because I agree with you. This is your baby, and I should be here. But this body, this womb growing our child, is not yours. It's mine.” I take a step closer and stare up at him. “Say differently again and I'll make it so this baby is the only one you ever have.”
Meeting my gaze, he licks his lips and then smirks in the way that always does me in. “Yes, ma'am.”
SLOWLY, MY LIVING HEREinstead of at Tye's starts to get Easton to warm up again. It doesn't happen all at once. More like a small thing here and there. But I'll take any progress I can get at this point. I just miss my Easton.
The one who used to crack jokes at all the wrong times.
The one who was so in tune with my body that he moved when I moved.
The one I rarely had to worry about.
I'm sitting in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal, when my stomach twists. I hold my fist to my mouth as I mentally will myself not to throw up, but no part of my body intends on listening. Within the next second, I'm jumping up from the table and rushing into the bathroom.
Everything I just ate comes shooting out of me, like this baby is forcefully expelling it from my body. I barely even have a moment to catch my breath before more comes out.
Two hands come up from each side of my head and my hair gets pulled out of my face. Easton sits on the side of the tub, holding my hair back with one hand and rubbing my back with the other.
“Well, this looks familiar,” he teases.
It doesn't take much thought to know what he's referring to. My first college party. The first night we were alone together. Only, so much has changed since that night.
I groan and turn to the side, leaning back against the tub as my stomach finally calms down. He gets up and grabs a washcloth. Running it under cold water, he wrings it out and then kneels down in front of me. With the gentlest care I've ever seen in him, he carefully wipes my mouth, and then uses the clean side to wipe the tears from my eyes. Once I'm all cleaned up, he bends down and kisses my forehead before leaving the room.
And I'm just left to sit here, thinking about how fucked I am, and how much I wish we could go back to how we were.
Before Alec.
Before the lying.
Before everything became so complicated.
Because Tye has never been more right—I'm in love with him.
