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The doctor kept referring to the life inside Julia as the embryo. I totally get that. I appreciate it, actually. I can't imagine how many times she's given that news and the woman has burst into tears from horror and despair instead of crying from surprise and happiness.
Luckily, I couldn't be more excited.
Remi will get there too.
Eventually.
I can actually see his thought process play out on his face. It's amazing that he was so good at his job—a job that I'd assume required a fair amount of bluffing—when every feeling he has ripples across his face.
He's away and pacing by now, naturally. His hands flex at his sides before he brings them up to rub at his chest before dropping them to flex again.
"Congratulations," he says stiffly, finally breaking the silence.
I lean forward on my elbows and clasp my hands, smiling.
"You too."
He shoots me a confused glare, and I school my face as best as I can so I'm not smirking in his direction.
Here it comes—it's building like a volcano getting ready to blow. His motions get sharper, and his chest tightens as he prepares to make his grand announcement. Remi, the martyr, ever prepared to sacrifice his happiness for the good of the team.
"I should leave."
There it is.
What a wanker.
I release all my breath in a sigh and lean back in my chair, trying for a look of nonchalance. My legs cross at the knee, and I pull at a thread on the hem of my worn jeans. This is going to be a long conversation. I drag my hand down my chest, already preparing my counterarguments.
"Do tell..."
He rises to the bait. His Adam’s apple bobs, all his emotions caught in his throat.
"Julia's pregnant!"
He slams to a stop and growls it, his chest rumbling. His hands fist at his sides, and he’s twitching, actually twitching in consternation.
"I know,” I chuckle. “I was there, remember? I feel kinda dumb, actually. Even if she didn't notice, which, to be honest, it was rough for her there for a while..."
He blushes hard.
"Ishould have noticed. I'm one of those weird husbands that pay attention to things like that. I know her cycles and when to have extra chocolate in the house."
Iamone of those husbands. Comes with the territory of having a sister with no personal boundaries and a mother determined to raise a man who wasn’t afraid of a little menstrual blood. I was sent to the store with a grocery list that included tampons by the time I was seventeen. It was self-preservation to know when my sister was on the rag. She gets downright scary when it’s her time of the month.
"Jules doesn't really like chocolate," Rem says automatically, not giving me that much attention.
I tighten my lips and snort in a failed attempt to hide my laughter. He’s so far in love he doesn’t even know it. I’d bet my carheeven knows what brand of tampon Julia uses.
“She loves chocolate!” I tease.
He rises to the bait by rote.
“But it can’t be pure chocolate on its own. It’s got to have nuts or caramel or something to break up the consistency.” His voice picks up in strength, if not in pitch. "This isn't the time for the sort of chaos our being together will create,” he continues his rant, blending seamlessly from one subject to another. “She needs to relax and to take care of the baby and not have to deal with—this,” he says lamely, throwing out his hand. “I should go. I need to go. I'm sorry, but Julia doesn't—”
"You're so stupid, baby," I cut him off. He snarls with eyes blazing, his fists tightening at his side. It’s so hot when he gets all snarky, even when it’s horribly tiresome. "It would be cute if it weren't so fucking annoying."
I laugh, happiness bleeding from my every pour. In turn, he looks away in disgust, dragging his hands over a head that hasn’t been razored in weeks.
