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I couldn’t believe my ears. She was shooting me — us — down before I’d even laid it on the table. Furious, I turned around after drinking a shot of whiskey and set the glass down so I could walk over to her and sit.
“So, you want to sleep, as in actual sleep?”
“Yes.”
“Instead of having sex with me?”
This is a first for me! How can I be so stupid? She and Terry must be sleeping together. The rumors are obviously true!
She didn't look at me. Her eyes diverted away to the bed blankets. “I didn't say that. I said I want to sleep.”
Even more agitated now than before, I tore off my clothing and made a point to see where it went. Without so much as a word, I climbed into bed beside her and lay on the pillow looking at her.
“Then you won’t mind me getting some shut eye too.” I closed my eyes and heard the faint sound of her murmuring frustration and sighing.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Gwen
Inthedaysthatfollowed that night, it was easy. Working for and with Terry was easy. He was very agreeable, and despite my fears he’d make a pass at me or cause more rumors to circulate, it didn't happen that way.
Sleeping beside James every night was harder than I’d imagined it would be. That night we’d made love in the wee hours, around 3 a.m. when I woke. He’d been watching me for some time, unable to sleep, or so he said, and I wanted him more than I admitted.
Still, the thought of the pregnancy, which he didn't know about, and the fact that I had no clue what to expect and knew nothing about being pregnant scared me half to death.
Each night that I ended up beside him was a blessing as I waited for my first doctor’s appointment to arrive. The morning sickness was coming and going — unpredictably — and I had no clue what to do to manage it.
The desire to confide in someone, anyone, would have given me peace, but I trusted no one and longed to go home.
Every night as I lay in bed, wrapped in James’ arms, I thought about our time, how wonderful it would be to have a family with him, but then I remembered that he and I weren’t officially together. It was a humbling experience.
Days before, I’d decided I was going to give up on my novel for the time being. I had too much to think about, not enough time, and my feelings about becoming a mother to process. I had yet to tell anyone, and I felt all alone dealing with it.
Rumors were circulating throughout the office, as employees came up with their own thoughts and ideas about James and me, and Terry and me. I heard them spoken behind my back in the break room, and to my face, from some employees, during conversation. It was hard to endure, and neither James nor Terry seemed to care.
A competitive edge had developed between both men when dealing with me, and it had started to grate on my nerves. If James brought me a sandwich, Terry would bring me a cinnamon roll the next morning.
If James would mention the dinner we shared at home the night before, Terry would take me out for lunch the next day to have something to talk about and throw in his face. It became highly annoying, and almost everyone in the office was watching the soap opera happen between us daily.
Most women would have probably loved the attention, but not me. The only thing I wanted was normalcy, and I regretted ever coming to California and agreeing to help James.
At night, it was pure bliss and heaven — at least when I wasn’t feeling sick — and by the following Thursday, James was asking questions because my sickness was getting worse.
I was finding it harder and harder to deal with work as I felt sick much of the time. Every morning, I’d wake up feeling nauseous, and every afternoon it would return, and sometimes in the evening too. The food aversions were crazy, since some things I couldn’t stomach even just smelling them.
As we lay in bed after another great night of amazing sex, I tried my best to ignore it. Then, when it happened, I ran to the bathroom and returned a while later to find James looking at me.
“Are you sure you’re, okay? You seem to get worse, and even I can’t ignore that the sex is so good no one should feel the need to throw up afterward. When is your doctor's appointment?”
“Tomorrow morning.” I tucked myself in feeling better, but hungry again.
“I want to go with you.” He pulled me back into his embrace, and it was a contentment I was getting addicted to feeling.
“No. I’ll be fine. It’s at 10 a.m., so I’ll go to work, leave, and then come back after the appointment.”
The following morning was the icing on the cake for me when Martie caught me sick in the bathroom right before I would have left. “Are you okay Gwen? More than a few people have been commenting on how sick you’ve been lately. What’s going on?”
I’d just come from the bathroom stall, my breath stank, and I needed a mint as I washed my face. “I’m headed to the doctor in a few minutes. I have no clue, but hopefully she’ll have answers.”
