CHAPTER SIX
I’m not sure why I tiptoe out of bed in the morning. My biological time clock usually doesn’t wake me before Benjamin, but today it’s dark outside the windows and I’m uneasy, not brave enough to undergo another talk. The emotions from last night are raw, and while we fell asleep a great deal calmer than we expected, I’m frightened of how he’ll see this in the morning light. I leave him in the bed, taking up a dominant part of the mattress, his body fully clothed in sweats and a baggy t-shirt, a very unusual sight.
Wishing to get off to work where something distracting can consume my time and force me off of my worries, I take a quick shower and dress stealthily. My husband is still sound asleep by the time I am ready to go.
I should stay. I should lie down and wait so we can dissolve our fears together.
We both acted in panic yesterday, letting confusion rule over our common sense.
I’m closing the door to the bedroom behind me, my decision made. On a usual day, I’d skip breakfast and head straight to work. Dr. Trigiani’s reminders are heavy on my mind, making it impossible to leave without scrounging up something for breakfast.
I make a spinach omelet, and a regular one for Benjamin, aware he won’t be asleep much longer. I have no desire to eat a single bite but force it down. Instead of tea, I pour myself a glass of orange juice to wash it down.
I gather my things, set to leave, until I hear Benjamin behind me.
“Darcy.”
Shit.
I face him, arching my chin high to hide my guilt. “Hi. I didn’t want to wake you.”
He’s still half asleep, making me wonder if he panicked when I wasn’t beside him, which also makes me wonder if I wanted him to feel that way. Right now, he resembles a boy, the traces of sleep etched across his features as he stands at the entrance to our bedroom.
I’m sure my guilt is palpable now. “I didn’t want a fight,” I correct myself, deciding truth is probably best right now. He’s already in the dark about a lot of things.
“I thought we finished that last night.”
“I hoped we had…maybe I’m just scared.”
He steps closer to me. “Scared of what?”
“What this will do to us.”
A safe distance away, I hover by the sink, holding my bag, eyes locked on his by the other side of the island. His face is calm, a wild difference from yesterday.
“Come here.”
I set my things onto the counter ungracefully and hesitantly round the table. He meets me halfway, and neither of us slow. His arms envelop me, his embrace excruciatingly tight. I wheeze in a gasp, digging my face into his chest. It feels good to be in his arms.
Wanting to touch his skin, I burrow my hands under his shirt, ascending over the length of his back, appreciating his radiating warmth. I’m cold, truly cold.
“You’re trembling,” he says worriedly, backing up to search my face. “I know I took it too far yesterday. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s not that. I’m just cold.”
“Is that a normal symptom of pregnancy?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe you should stay home. I could go in for a few hours, take the rest of the day off.”
“I can’t. I have to go to work.”
“Cindy would understand, Darcy.”
“I know she would. I like working.”
He glances at the ceiling. “All right. Okay, well, will you come home at five then? I can make a reservation for dinner.”