Page 85 of Falling in Love with Two

Without much consideration, he answers, “It’s fine by me.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“Leah, one, you’re carrying my baby. I’m not about to complain about what you wear. And two, you’re not going to make me uncomfortable. I’ve seen you naked, remember?”

“Yeah, but it’s been a while.”

“Leah, honey, I remember what it looks like. You’re not easily forgettable.” With a wink, he walks out of the room.

I should’ve known he wouldn’t care. The man goes out of his way to make sure I’m happy and taken care of. He’s made it so that I consider this my home. I actually enjoy all my time with him, which is a bit of a new concept for me. Even when I’ve lived with other men or been serious—or my version of serious—with them, I’ve always treasured my alone time. I thrive on it. Too much time with someone makes me feel suffocated.

But it’s different with Dylan. Although I love my job, every day, I look forward to when I get to leave it and come home to him.

What the hell is happening to me? It can’t just be the baby hormones, right? Maybe that’s part of it, but I think the bigger part has to do with how great Dylan is. I still can’t believe that I hit the metaphorical lottery when it comes to who my baby’s father is. He’s been the silver lining through all of this.

I throw my hair up in a ponytail and walk out to the living room. Dylan has an assortment of snacks and appetizers laid out on the coffee table.

“What’s all this?” I ask.

“Figured we could just snack tonight. Maybe stay up late since we’re both off tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I say while sitting down on the couch. “This looks amazing.”

I grab a mini quesadilla and take a bite as Dylan asks, “So, what happened today?”

“Nothing in particular. I’m just having a moment.”

“About your jeans feeling a little tight?”

“That’s part of it. It’s just everything. I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

He picks up a few chips and takes a bite of one. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m apparently putting on weight even though I’m still throwing up all the time. My boobs hurt constantly. I’m exhausted. I just don’t feel like me.”

I leave out the part about how I have zero sex drive and even less confidence. I’ve never been under the delusion that I was the prettiest girl in town. That wasn’t me. But I’d still walk into that room like I fucking owned it.

What I lacked in traditional beauty, I made up for in a high sex drive and dirty mouth. These two things ensured that I had no trouble finding a man to have some fun with. I still have a dirty mouth but no desire to use it. Right now, the thought of sex repulses me.

Dylan says, “Well, for what it’s worth, the parenting books all say things get a little more back to normal after the first trimester. Then, things get weird again during the third. Maybe the second won’t be too bad.”

I smile. “You should really be a motivational speaker.”

“Sorry. I’m just trying to say that I know it sucks right now, but it’ll get better. And if it doesn’t, then, you can take it out on me.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Please do.”

I pick at my fingernails and stare into my lap. Dylan notices and asks, “Is there something else going on?”

I think for a moment, pondering exactly how I want to answer.

“Okay, at the risk of sounding completely off my rocker, I just want to say that the baby makes me insane.”

“Alright…” he waits for me to go on.

“Do you still find me attractive?”

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