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“Yeah, I doubt it. I mean, you don’t know this woman. She’s hard-headed, independent, with a sassy streak that just won’t quit.”
James nods.
“And unfortunately, that’s exactly why you like her,” he says in an uncharacteristically gentle tone. “So you’ve got to take the chance. Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best, my friend,” he says, clapping my shoulder with encouragement. “You can do it.”
I don’t reply, merely staring deeper into my beer as if the bottle has all the answers. But nothing springs to mind, and no inspiration strikes because down in the bottom of my gut, I know that James is right. I want more from Freya, and I can’t keep pretending that our current set-up is okay. Yes, I adore her curves and her wanton ways, not to mention the sweetness between her thighs. But I can’t keep doing this. I don’t just want her body. I wanther, no matter the price.
8
Freya
We step out of the ob-gyn’s office and into the sunlight as Mark gently circles my waist with his arm, helping to support my ungainly form as we walk across the parking lot to his truck.
“Well, that was successful,” I burble happily, waving the ultrasounds in my hand. “I’ve got a healthy baby on the way. And Dr. Jackson said he’s a big one too. Of course, not overly big so that we have problems with delivery or anything. He’s just on the bigger side for a normal-weight baby.”
But my man is strangely silent as he gets behind the driver’s seat and starts the car. We pull out onto the road and I cast a questioning glance at his handsome profile.
“Is everything okay, Mark? I know these appointments can be a little weird because everyone thinks we’re a couple, but it’s a natural assumption because you’ve come with me to every doctor’s appointment since we got together. But no one calls me Mrs. Fierceton or anything, so it’s not that bad. In fact, I don’t think the nurses even know your last name!”
But instead of defusing the situation, if anything, my words just make my handsome lover tense up even more. His shoulders are rigid and he stares straight ahead while his knuckles grip the steering wheel, going white with stress.
“Is everything okay, Mark?” I repeat in a careful tone. “Is it something I said, or did? If so, I’m sorry.”
He jerks to look at me so fast that I swear, he’s going to get whiplash. To my surprise, those blue eyes are filled with rage, but instead of shouting, Mark speaks in a low, trembling voice.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that I keep going with you to these doctor’s appointments?” he manages between gritted teeth.
I pause for a moment.
“No. Why? I mean, I think they’re used to having all sorts of people accompany the prospective mother. It’s not always the babydaddy, you know. It could be a parent, a friend, or maybe even a social worker. Not to mention the women who have kids. I’ve seen children following their pregnant moms into the exam room, so I don’t think it’s so far-fetched that you would come.”
“Yes, but I’m yourneighbor,” he practically spits. “Don’t you think it’s a little strange that I’ve been at each and every appointment?”
I pause again, trying to feel my way in the dark.
“Well, doyouthink it’s weird? And if you don’t want to come, it’s totally fine. I never meant to pressure you. I just thought you might enjoy seeing photos of the child,” I say in a tentative voice. “Sorry if I was wrong and if it’s getting burdensome. I can call an Uber next time, it’s completely okay.”
Mark’s face is dark with anger now as he hauls the truck into the driveway of my house before shutting off the engine.
“It’s not Uber. It’s not the rides. You just don’t get it, Freya,” he bites out in an angry voice as we approach my house. I let him in, and immediately, the huge man strides to the living room, but he doesn’t sit. Instead, he crosses his arms over that massive chest, glowering at me.
“Then what is it?” I implore. “What’s wrong? What have I done wrong?”
He lets out a disgusted sigh before plopping down on my chintz sofa.
“I think the question is whatI’vedone wrong,” he moans, burying that dark head in his hands. “Fuck, how did we get here?”
I try to console him.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” I murmur. “But I’m confused, Mark. What’s got you so angry? Just tell me,” I say in a persuasive gone.
He goes still for a moment, refusing to look at me. But then he lifts his head, and there’s agony on that handsome face.
“It’s just that… I don’t know, Freya. I’m so mixed up.”
I sit down tentatively next to him, the sofa lurching a bit from my weight, before putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“No, it’s fine. Everyone gets mixed up sometimes, and I know it must be weird going to my doctor’s appointments when the baby isn’t yours. But it’s okay. You don’t have to go,” I reiterate once more. “I’m perfectly fine on my own.”
