Page 75 of Tormenting Me

“Well, I guess I’ll have to deal with him if he shows up.” I laugh. Uncle Robert looks at me, suspicion on his face. “Aw don’t worry. I won’t hurt a hair on your wee boy’s head.” I get up and turn to leave.

“Unless he hits on my wife.” I swing back around. “Then all bets are off and I’ll kick his ass.”

Walking out of the room, I feel a mix of emotions. Relief, hope, and a tinge of irritation. But deep down, I know that I’ve done my part, and that Evie is in excellent hands. My cousin, I’ll deal with him if he even bothers to come around. I check my watch and mumble “fuck” under my breath, hauling ass out of the building. I don’t want to be late for our first meeting with the midwife.

Layne’s been feeling like shit because of all the early pregnancy hormones. One minute she is totally fine and the next she is sprinting to the bathroom to throw up. After I was able to convince her to at least go to the doctor to have the pregnancy confirmed with a blood test, it felt more real to her. On the way home, she kept saying, “We’re having a baby.”

I honestly can’t believe it myself. It’s a dream come true. A dream I never knew I wanted until she was in my life.

I pull onto the property in front of the bay doors and kill the engine. Layne’s truck is parked off to the far side and a small SUV is parked right near the door. I get out and head inside. I hear some laughter as I head upstairs, then Layne’s voice. “That must be my husband. Wes?”

“Yep, it’s just me.” I smile at her as I step into the loft. Layne gets up and walks over to me. “This is the Midwife I was telling you about, Emmy.”

I set my keys on the table and take off my jacket, hanging it up on the wall. The woman sitting on the couch has a notebook, staring right at me. I approach the woman on the couch, extending my hand for a handshake. “Hi, I’m Wes,” I introduce myself.

The midwife smiles warmly and shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you, Wes. I’m glad that I can be here to support Layne throughout her pregnancy journey,” she replies. “And you, as you come into your role as a father.”

A father. Fuck, that still gives me chills. I’m gonna be a dad.

We all settle back into the living room area. I take a seat in the armchair as Emmy opens her notebook and begins asking Layne about her medical history and any concerns she may have. Layne shares her experiences with the pregnancy symptoms, the ups and downs of her emotions, and her desire for a natural birth here at home.

Emmy listens attentively, jotting down notes and offering reassuring words. She discusses the importance of prenatal care, nutrition, and exercise to ensure a healthy pregnancy. Layne and I soak in every word, feeling grateful to have Emmy’s expertise and support.

Throughout the conversation, Layne and I steal glances at each other, overwhelmed with happiness and anticipation. The reality of becoming parents slowly sinks in as we discuss birth plans, birthing options, and the various stages of pregnancy.

As the interview ends, Emmy assures us she will be there for us every step of the way. She hands us some informational pamphlets and schedules the next appointment for Layne’s check-up.

“Now we only do checks every four to six weeks in the beginning, but as you progress, they’ll become more frequent. I can also recommend some amazing books for new parents if you’re both interested?”

Layne nods excitedly, looking at me. The love and light that is shining through her eyes is enigmatic. I have never seen her like this. “I would love that. We’re both big readers.”

“Great! Sounds like this baby is going to have the best parents.” She hands me a list of books and then rises. “Well, I’m going to head out. My number is on the paperwork if you need me or have questions. We can discuss how you want to handle billing and all that at the next appointment. See you guys in six weeks.”

I walk Emmy out and then after she leaves; I head back up and find Layne in the kitchen. She has a glass of ice water, slowly taking sips of it. I come behind her and wrap my arms around her middle, resting my chin in the crook of her shoulder and neck. “Emmy was nice, baby. I think she is a good fit.”

Layne puts the glass down and spins around to face me. “You think so?”

I mumble in agreement as our lips connect, savoring the moment. Layne freezes. I open my eyes to look at her and she looks like she’s going to be sick. She pushes me back and runs to the bathroom.

Well, gotta hand it to my kid. Barely even in existence and already cockblocking me.

Chapter forty-five

Layne

“Ma Petite Mort?“ Wes’s voice echoes in the loft. I can just see the concerned expression on his face as he realizes I’m no longer in bed.

His bare feet patter across the hardwood floor as he makes his way into the bathroom, where I sit haunched over the toilet. My head hurts from throwing up so much and my throat is raw. Wes crouches down beside me, grabs my hair and braids it. He takes the hair tie that I remove from my wrist and hold it out to him. “Thank you,” I mutter, ripping off a piece of toilet paper and wiping my mouth.

“I hate seeing you feel like shit. I wish I could take on all the bad parts of being pregnant.” Wes rubs up and down my back, comforting me.

Wes’s touch soothes me as I lean against him, my body still weak from the relentless nausea. His words bring a mix of gratitude and guilt. I know he would do anything to ease my suffering, and yet, I can’t help but feel responsible for putting us both through this.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “I didn’t expect it to be this hard.”

Wes’s grip on my back tightens, providing me with a sense of security and strength. “Don’t apologize, baby,” he reassures me. “We’re in this together, remember? I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

I close my eyes, willing the nausea to subside, and focus on the warmth of Wes’s touch. The waves of sickness subside. I slowly straighten up, feeling the cool bathroom tiles against my bare feet. Wes stands up, still holding onto my hair, and gently pulls me towards him. We make our way back to the bed, where he tucks me in. He leans down, placing a tender kiss to my forehead.

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