Page 119 of Fight for Me
“Last I checked, I work here.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, but you said you wouldn’t be in for a while.”
“I lied, and I escaped.”
“You seriously need to seek psychiatric help.”
It’s been the best month of my life, but I can’t sit in that damn house anymore. It doesn’t matter that we converted the barn into offices. It’s great, don’t get me wrong, but he’s always freaking there.
He brings me water, juice, food, and then doesn’t argue when I’m picking a fight.
Declan has been the most doting and wonderful man that any woman—any sane one—would want.
But I’m not sane.
Nope. I’m a crazy, hormonal, unhinged lunatic per Ellie and Devney.
Instead of staying home, I drove to my office—without his damn supervision.
“Yeah, well … whatever.”
She follows me into my office. “Do you need anything?”
I shake my head. “Nope, just wanted to stretch my legs, get some fresh air, and not be confined.”
My doctor and surgeon have given me the all clear to go back to work on a very limited basis. I’m meant to take it easy and stay off my feet whenever possible. They advised me to limit stress as well … like that could ever happen as a lawyer.
I have done that though.
I don’t take as many cases, and I’ve hired another lawyer to help out once I have the baby, but there are some things that just can’t be done from home.
“You act like being around your doting boyfriend is the worst thing that could happen.”
“It’s not, but he’s always fussing over me. There hasn’t been a single issue since I woke up, all the ultrasounds have been great, and Deacon is growing at the perfect rate. Yet, his father seems to think I shouldn’t walk more than ten feet without him checking my heart rate.”
Devney grins. “He loves you.”
“He does.”
“You’re lucky,” she says with a raised brow.
“Please, like Oliver doesn’t dote on you? In fact, shouldn’t your amazing boyfriend be here in an hour to pick you up for your date?”
It’s the first Friday of the month. And the first Fridays are for Devney and Oliver. It’s so great that she has someone who loves her to the point of madness. He plans this for her and constantly makes sure she knows how much he loves her.
Devney looks away and doesn’t say anything.
Well, that’s a cue that I can follow. “What?”
She turns her head back to mine. “What?”
“Why did you look away when I talked about Oliver?”
“It’s nothing. Let’s talk about you.”
I lean back in my chair, but the baby makes it look less like leaning and more like a balloon tilting. I may not have shown until much later, but I more than made up for it in the last two months. I’ve not just popped, I’ve expanded like a blimp.
Each day it’s as if someone is inflating my stomach a bit more.
