Page 123 of Body Shot

“Dude. Look what youdid.” Seth scowls like Anders is the problem. “I’m calling security.”

“Stop!” I hiss through my tears. “Jesus, can you just leave without causing me anymore grief?”

“I’m sorry.” Anders turns to go.

“No. God dammit.” I throw up a hand and wiggle myself into a sitting position. “Seth—I need you to leave. You have no business being here. Please don’t make a scene. I don’t have any fight left in me. And Anders… please stay.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence before Anders looks at Seth.

“You heard the lady.”

“Fuck this and fuck you.” Seth stomps out of the room and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Anders comes closer to the bed and my stomach starts doing funny things.

And they’re not things that might make me vomit.

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I just…what are you doing here? Did Hana call you?”

“No.” He stands next to me, his eyes searching my face. “I came to talk to you in person. I needed to hear you tell me to my face that you don’t love me. I couldn’t move on until… I got some kind of closure. Then your dad got in my face.” He reaches out and ever so gently strokes his fingers across my cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me about the baby?”

Tears squeeze out of my eyes. “It was my fault.” I sniffle, trying to gain my composure but failing miserably. “I didn’t want…” The tears start coming faster. “…Martika…trap you…”

I don’t know what I’m saying, but I can’t seem to form full sentences, and the tears are pouring out faster than I can catch my breath or collect my thoughts.

“Shh. Hey. Stop that.” He lowers the rail on the side of the bed and sits beside me, pulling me into his arms. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. Shh.” He strokes my hair, my back, my arms, all while holding me against his strong, warm chest.

It feels so good for him to be holding me.

I’ve missed it so much.

“Anders…our baby…” Another torrent of emotion hits me, and I feel him shudder slightly, as if he understands what I’m feeling.

“I know. Shh.”

He holds me for a long time, letting me sob against his chest.

Finally, when his shirt is soaked and I can’t breathe through my nose anymore, the tears start to abate.

“Can you get me a tissue, please?” I ask softly.

“Of course.” He turns and grabs a few out of the box on the counter.

I blow my nose and dab at my eyes.

I must look awful.

“You okay now?” he asks, sitting beside me again.

“No.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to lose it.” My lower lip trembles. “I’m scared to have it, but I don’t want to lose it.”

“I know. Me either.”

“You don’t?” I meet his gaze guiltily. “Because this is my fault.”

“What’s your fault?”

“The pregnancy…I was so excited to put the condoms on…my stupid nails…” I hang my head. “I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t do this on purpose.”

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