Page 116 of What if It's Us

18 WEEKS

I wake up with one thought so overpowering, so intense, it could rival any hormonal surge I've had in the last seven months:

I need a strawberry-banana smoothie. Immediately. Or I might actually die.

I try to ignore it, turning onto my side with a groan. That only earns me a firm kick to the ribs from Baby B. Baby A rolls in protest. Baby C? Probably organizing a tiny prison break in there. Apparently, they’re on Team Smoothie too.

I whisper to the dark room. “No. Go back to sleep. We’re not waking your father up.”

“Too late,” Ledger’s sleepy voice grumbles from beside me. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

I hesitate. “I mean…yes. Technically. But also…no.”

He sits up like he’s ready to rush me to the hospital. “Is it the babies? Contractions? Weird dreams about talking cats again?”

“No. Smoothie.”

He blinks. “What?”

“I need a strawberry-banana smoothie. Like…now. Like, I can taste it in my soul. My whole body is ninety percent craving and ten percent guilt.”

There’s a long pause and then Ledger’s brows pinch as he glances at his alarm clock.

“Babe. It’s three in the morning.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think we have bananas in the house.”

“I also know.”

He groans, flopping back against the pillow. “You couldn’t crave crackers? Or ice chips? We have so many ice chips. Ice chips galore. Are you sure you’re not craving ice chips?”

“Ledge.”

He turns his head to look at me. I widen my eyes, full Puss-n-Boots mode. He groans again, but this time it’s laced with affection and somewhere in my chest, my heart flutters.

“I hate how effective that face is,” he says with a foolish smile.

“I hate how empty my hands are.”

Geesh Marlee. No need to go all diva on the man.

Ten minutes later, I’m sitting in the kitchen in his hoodie—because nothing fits anymore—and watching him blend frozen fruit like it’s his sole mission in life. His hair is a mess, his shirt is inside out, and he keeps yawning mid-blend.

He slides the smoothie toward me like a bartender in a romcom. “For my lady and her team of crotch goblins.”

I take a sip and nearly cry. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. You’re the best man I’ve ever known and I love you so much.”

“Tell me that again when I’m not trying to dig frozen mango chunks out of the blender at 3:30 A.M. with a spatula.”

“I’m serious,” I say, holding his hand. “I know this is ridiculous. But you always show up. Even for the weird stuff. Especially for the weird stuff.”

He bends down and kisses the top of my head. “You and the weird stuff come as a package deal, babe. I’m here for it. Always.”

We sit in the quiet kitchen while I sip my smoothie and he rests his head on my shoulder, eyes closed.

“I love you, Ledger.”

---