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My scowl leaves her tipping her head to the side. “What's wrong?”
“It’s just, you know, I didn't get into this so you could nag me.” I can barely get it out without snickering, and her scowling makes it hard not to laugh.
“Very funny. Somebody has to take care of you.”
“That's supposed to be my job. Taking care of you.” Yes, because you've done such a great job of it so far. Look what you did to her.
“Maybe I like getting to look after you. Ever think of that? A relationship goes both ways. You care for each other equally. ”
I still grumble, if only for the pleasure of making her eyes sparkle when she gets mad. “You want something to look after? I’ll get you a puppy to smother with attention.”
It only lasts a second, the way her forehead creases and her eyes dim. Shit. All my joking has struck a nerve. Her thoughts went elsewhere. “You know I’m joking,” I murmur before kissing her forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles. “I’d love nothing more than your attention for the rest of my days.”
“I know.” Even as her smile isn’t as bright as it was before. “I’m just hungry–and somebody kept me up until all hours of the night, so I guess I could use a nap too.”
I only growl at the memory. Here she is, unaware, teasing me with love in her eyes. All I want, all I'll ever need. The weight of possibly being the reason her life crumbled, the reason her father went off the rails, and the reason she no longer has a mother sits heavy on my heart. Her life could’ve been better than this, more than this.
Her smile fades into a look of concern. “Are you okay? You seem troubled.”
“It's been a long morning.” I can't tell her. She cannot know. I don't know how to say it to her if, and when, I find proof, but that time isn't now. It might be a selfish choice. Nevertheless, I just got her back. How am I supposed to hurt her again with the truth? I can't let it happen. I can't take it. I couldn’t cope with losing her love, not when basking in it brings me more joy than anything ever has. Losing her isn’t an option.
Standing on tiptoes, her soft lips press against mine so sweetly. “Let's get you out of this room. Some Vitamin D makes everything better.”
“I’ll give you something that starts with a D,” I tease.
“How did I know you’d say something like that?” She winks before taking me by the hand and giving me a playful tug. “Come on. I’m hungry. And I like the idea of having you all to myself for a little bit—while we’re both clothed and talking.”
It would be perfect if not for the feeling that she won’t want me, alone, clothed, or otherwise, once I dig up the truth about how her mother died. I want to believe she will, though there’s no predicting how the heart will react.
After all, I couldn’t have predicted her holding my entire world in her hands one day.
BIANCA
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Get it together.
Only I can’t hear anything but the roaring of blood in my ears.
“Wh-what did you say?” I can barely hear my voice. “Sorry. I’m…” Can’t find the words. Can hardly breathe. I’m going to hyperventilate if I don’t calm down. Deep breaths. Slow, deep breaths while the pieces of my life that just shattered all around me drop to the floor in a million fragments.
I walked in here, knowing it was possible. I even knew it was a better outcome than if I was sick. I won’t lie, I was still hoping for something simple, like stress.
Fate had other plans. Now comes the actual stress.
“Based on your reaction, this is a surprise.” The doctor pulls off his gloves and tosses them into a trash can while I lie here, dressed in this thin paper gown, with my feet still in stirrups. He indeed said what I thought he did, didn’t he? My ears aren’t playing tricks on me.
I’m really pregnant.
He pats my hand before rolling away on his wheeled chair to type something into his computer. “Now, if you require any counseling, we do have staff who we can happily schedule you to see someone. If that isn’t of interest to you, we also have other options we can discuss. You need to make the choice that is best for you.”
Do I need counseling? What other choice would I make? I can’t understand anything this man is saying, and even if I could, I don’t know what I would say to him. I can't think or string words together right now. My tongue is heavy, making it hard for me to speak.
