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Alex unlocks the door and opens it for me to walk through first. “No, Mama named all the rooms after dead family members.”
“Oh, well that’s not morbid at all.”
Alex sets my suitcase down and shuts the door behind him. I look around, appreciating all the little touches of flowers, candles, and décor pillows.
“Okay, so before John murders me, here’s the booklet on the property. They serve breakfast between six and nine and come hungry because you’ll want to try everything. And I mean everything. This is homestyle country eatin’ down here, none of that city processed pumped-with-steroids food shit.”
I chuckle, grabbing the book out of his hand. “Okay, I will, but I draw the line at grits.” I don’t dare tell him that just about anything can set off my nausea so there’s no guarantee I can keep anything down.
“Oh God. Don’t let anyone hear you say that.” He chuckles. “We’re serious about our grits down here. Sugar grits, cheesy grits, salt and pepper grits; there’s a grit for every meal, trust me.”
“Duly noted.” I flip through the book and browse over the details about the ranch, the horses and trail riding, the side by sides and everything their little town has to offer. It’s perfect for what I need right now.
“I love it,” I say, setting the book down and glancing around the room. “Pretty sure it’s bigger than my entire apartment.”
“No, thanks,” Alex grumbles, shaking his head at the thought.
The silence between us is awkward, but I don’t even know how to begin this conversation.
“Do you need anything right away? John’s your bitch, so just let me know.”
I smile and laugh. “No, I’m okay. Thinking I should shower off the travel smell and change.”
“I can wait if you want,” he says sincerely, appreciating how he’s not rushing me to talk.
“You don’t mind?”
He closes the gap between us and cups my face, making circles with his thumb across my cheek. “I’ve been waiting three months, River. I think I can wait another twenty minutes.”
I lean into his touch, loving the way it makes me feel when he does that. Smiling, I step away to grab my suitcase and head into the bathroom. Even though I’m wearing a sweater and it’s covering my stomach, I’m still feeling overly self-conscious. Nerves are taking over, and the courage I felt earlier is long gone. I know I need to tell Alex the truth, but knowing I’m about to change his entire life has my heart thumping right out of my chest.
As I shower, I think of how I’m going to tell him. I could just rip it off like a Band-Aid and blurt it all out. That sounds the easiest. I’d rather gradually ease into everything I need to say. Then there’s the fear that his reaction is going to burst the bubble I’ve been so content hiding in.
I can do this, I remind myself. It’s a familiar chant I’ve had to tell myself a lot over the past several weeks.
Once I’m out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my body while I dig for my heartburn pills. It comes out of nowhere and is usually strong enough to make me sick.
“Hey, Alex,” I call from inside the bathroom, peeking my head around the door.
“Yeah?”
“Would you mind grabbing a white bottle from my purse? I’m not dressed yet.” I clench my eyes the second the words come out, knowing he’s already seen me naked.
“Sure.” I hear him chuckling, probably thinking the same thing. His mouth and hands have been all over my naked body.
I step back inside, digging out my hairbrush and deodorant. Next, I look for something comfortable to wear, which consists of leggings and loose shirts because that’s all that fits me now.
After a solid minute of waiting, I peek back out. “Alex?”
No response.
What the heck?
Once I finish getting dressed, I throw my hair up into a wet, messy bun and walk out to where I set my purse.
“Alex?” I call again. When I round the corner, I see him standing frozen facing away from me. Finally, he turns around. His eyes are wide, and his face has gone pale. “What’s wrong?”
I step closer, finally seeing the stick he’s holding.
“Is this yours?”
Planting my feet, I lick my lips and release a deep breath. “Alex…” I breathe out, hating that none of this has gone as planned. I totally forgot I put it in there. I don’t know if it’s common for pregnant women to keep their tests, but I’d been in such shock and denial the first couple of weeks, I stuffed it in there as a reminder. “Is this yours?” His voice is louder with anger in his tone as he stares me down.
I blink when he steps closer, invading my space. He holds the stick firmly between his fingers, demanding answers.
