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“I didn’t. My mother did. I know her verbal apology was nonexistent, but she wants to try. What you do with that is up to you. She treated you like shit publicly, and I’m willing to stand with whatever you decide.”
All I can do is nod. That’s a nugget of information to dissect later, not when I’m the middle of appreciating the hard work Nathan did for me today.
He departs with a half wave, and I sink down into the glider, rocking myself as I stare off at the white painted walls and start making a list of all the things we still have left to do.
Doctor’s appointments.
Car seat installation.
Discuss baby names.
Agree on custody.
That last one roils my stomach. I could blame it on the fact I haven’t eaten in hours, but that’d be a downright lie. The truth is the thought of having to go any amount of time without seeing my baby boy is like willingly taking a knife and slotting it between my ribs one by one.
But I better get used to the idea because in a few short weeks, ready or not…
25
Kiersten
“Why is it you seem to always end up with Dr. Vagina Tickler?”
“Nathan!” I slap him on the chest and check the door that’s barely shut behind her. “She might hear you,” I hiss through bared teeth as I tug my pants back on.
“I’m pretty sure she gives you pelvic exams just for shits and giggles at this point.”
“You’re lucky I’m already on bed rest, or I’d be withholding sex from you until our kid is in college.”
“As if you could hold out that long.”
“Try me,” I growl, not about to admit that I’m having a hard time abstaining after only two weeks. Another two months seems impossible, but according to my doctor, even manual stimulation is a no-no because we don’t want to upset my angry uterus. And here I was hoping to get cleared for a little hand action.
Or tongue action.
We could even get creative with toys.
Not to mention that Cami said it’s another six weeks after the birth before I’ll even want to have sex again.
I’m counting down the days to week thirty-six. My doctor said once I reach that point, it’s full steam ahead, and I can come off bed rest because the baby will be close to full term. Translation: Get ready to fuck your man because the restrictions are over until the baby is born.
I’m keeping that bit close to my chest, though, in case I need to use a little naked persuasion for anything. If he counts down to week thirty-six too, that’ll just take away my surprise and power.
The doctor returns with my discharge packet and hands it to me. “So you look to be handling everything well since the hospital. Your cervix is less than a fingertip dilated, and you’re about sixty percent effaced, which isn’t much different from when you were having contractions. That’s the good news. The bad news, as I mentioned before, is I’d like you to remain on modified bed rest for a few more weeks.”
“Ooo, I’m being upgraded to modified.”
She grins at us. “You can move around your house a bit more but no strenuous activity. For the next few weeks, you’re off the hook for chores, and don’t stay upright for more than fifteen minutes at a time.”
Even that slight improvement to my prison sentence is enough to lighten my mood. “Thank you, Doctor.”
“We’ll see you again in two weeks.”
I hoist myself out of the chair, and Nathan takes my elbow, steering me from the room. Once in his truck, he drives us back to my house.
Nathan breaks our comfortable quiet as he takes the corner to my street. “You might want to brace.”
“What? Why?”
