Page 8 of Ho Ho Oh No

“My fat stomach? Yeah. Hard to miss.”

I shake my head at her, refusing to let my ire show. I don’t want her to misinterpret my anger by thinking it’s directed at her. I’m not pissed at her; I’m pissed at the world for making her feel unattractive because she’s got more curves than some other women.

More to love if you ask me, cliché as it may sound.

“That isn’t fat, woman. And so what if it was? This is your beautiful body changing shape to make room for the life you’re growing. It’s an amazing thing.”

Her eyes stay fastened on mine in the reflection. I hope she sees how serious I am about this.

Keeping an eye on her facial expression, I skim my hand to the underside of her belly. “I love every inch of you.”

“Did your mother drop you on your head when you were a child?”

Chuckling, I retort, “You can ask her when you see her later.”

She whips her head back to offer me a kiss.

After a quick peck, I direct our attention to her reflection, trailing my hands up her lush body to her breasts. “Now, I want you to look at these. So full and round. I love them at any size, but these are just...mmm.” My palms curve to cup them, caressing her silky-smooth skin.

“I don’t mind the bigger boobs, but it’s the nipples.” She cringes, squinting her eyes and grinding her teeth.

That’ll never do.

“These sexy things? They’re begging for my mouth.” I pluck and tug at them gently, drawing a gasp from her. “A little bigger and darker as they get ready to feed our baby.”

Her face, which was gradually relaxing, hardens again.

“What is it?” Releasing her nipples, I resume cupping her breasts, swirling and twisting them lovingly. I fucking love her tits. I love everything about her. Except how her expression changed just now.

She inhales deeply, her eyes slamming shut. In a rush, she blurts, “Leo, I don’t want to breast feed. I can’t imagine doing it. Not only because of the sensory issues, but the mere idea of it makes me sick. I-I-I...” Her head sways back and forth. “I’m already failing our son since everyone says it’s best for the baby. Leo, I can’t get past this. I even talked about it at therapy. It didn’t help. I’m sorry. I’msosorry for disappointing you.”

Tears spill down her cheeks. She keeps her eyes closed as if she’s ashamed. “I’m not going to be a good mother. This was a mistake.”

Oh fuck.

How could she think that? My sweet angel. She’s so miserable. It breaks my heart for her.

I kiss the top of her head. “Easy, Sue. Easy.”

Releasing her, I quickly swipe the robe from the hook. Now that I know this isn’t really about her body, I should cover her up to help her relax. Or she’ll never truly be able to focus on what we need to discuss.

When I open it for her, she glances down at it, then back to my face repeatedly. Her head quirks to the side.

I give the robe a shake. “Cover up so you’re more comfortable. Let’s go talk.”

“We don’t have time. The party starts in four hours, and we have to get there early to help with decorations. Lettie and your mom said they needed you to do the high stuff.”

“The party can wait. However, this cannot. I refuse to let you go another minute thinking such horrible things about yourself.”

“I’d already planned what time we needed to leave.” While looking toward the shower, she worries her lip and wrings her hands in front of her bare chest. “Let’s compromise.”

Knowing her fondness for schedules, I ask, “How?”

“We can talkwhilewe shower,” she offers.

“Shower together, right? Not one of us at a time, talking through the glass?”

There go her pretty eyes, rolling around. “No doy, babe.”

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