Page 87 of Pregnant in Plaid
"My flight back to Florida is tomorrow."
The words don't make sense. I stare at her, waiting for the punchline. "What?"
"I booked it this morning. After my shower."
"But—last night?—"
"Last night was amazing," she says quickly. "But it doesn't change the fact that I have a life in Florida. A job opportunity. A plan."
"You have a life here too," I say, and I can hear my voice rising. "You have me. You have the baby. You have?—"
"I've been here two weeks, Trace. Two weeks. That's not a life. That's—" She struggles for words. "That's a detour."
"A detour?" I'm on my feet now, pacing. "Is that what last night was? A detour?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
She stands up too, hand on her belly. "I meant thatI can't base my entire life on one night and two weeks of—of this!"
"Two weeks of what? Being happy? Being together? Building something?"
"Playing house," she says, and the words hit like a slap. "We've been playing house, Trace. But that's not real life."
"We just—we made love. You said you were falling in love with me!"
"I also said I was scared!"
"And your solution is to run away?"
"I'm not running away," she says, but her voice wavers. "I'm going home. There's a difference."
"You're eight months pregnant. You're not getting on a plane."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You're not flying to Florida in your condition."
Her eyes flash with something dangerous. "My condition? Are you seriously telling me what I can and can't do right now?"
"Someone has to! You're being ridiculous!"
"I'm being ridiculous? You're the one acting like I'm made of glass!"
"Because you're carrying my child!" The words come out louder than I intended, and I see her flinch. But I can't stop now. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to fly this late inpregnancy? What if something happens? What if you go into labor on the plane?"
"I'm not going into labor. The baby's not due for six more weeks."
"Babies don't follow schedules, Patrice!"
"Neither do I!" She's shouting now too. "And I don't need your permission to make decisions about my own body!"
"I'm not trying to control you?—"
"Yes, you are! You're literally trying to forbid me from leaving!"
"Because it's not safe!"
