Page 93 of Pregnant in Plaid
And with that profoundly uncomfortable dose of wisdom, he nods once and leaves.
Tessa and I sit in silence.
"He's smarter than he looks," I finally say.
"Don't tell him that. His ego's big enough already."
I laugh, but it comes out shaky. My hand goes to my belly automatically, and the baby—my raspberry, though it’s definitely bigger than a raspberry now—kicks hard against my palm.
"What do you think, kiddo?" I murmur. "What do we do?"
The baby kicks again, like it’s voting.
"It probably wants to stay," Tessa says. "Babies are smart that way."
"Or the baby's just punching my bladder for fun." I struggle to my feet. "Which, speaking of, I need to pee. Again. For the millionth time today."
"Want company?"
"To the bathroom?"
"I didn't mean in the bathroom, weirdo. I meant do you want me to wait here or give you privacy to spiral in peace?"
"Privacy, please. I spiral better alone."
"Fair enough."
I make my way to the bathroom and handle my business. When I'm washing my hands, I catch sight of myself in the mirror.
I look exhausted. Puffy. My hair's doing this weird thing where half of it is flat, and the other half is sticking up like I touched an electrical socket. There are tear tracks on my cheeks I don't remember making.
But underneath all that, there's something else. Something that looks suspiciously like the truth I've been avoiding.
I love him.
Not "falling for him" or "could maybe love him eventually." I love him. Present tense. Fully. Terrifyingly.
And that's the real problem, isn't it? Because if I don't love him, leaving is easy. But if I do love him, staying is the scariest thing in the world.
Because what if it doesn't work?
What if?—
A sharp pain slices through my lower back, so sudden and intense that I grab the counter to keep from falling. It radiates around to the front, tightening like a vice, and for a second I can't breathe.
Then it passes.
"Okay," I say to my reflection. "That was new."
Probably another Braxton Hicks contraction. I've been having them on and off for days. Nothing to worry about.
I head back to the living room, where Tessa's scrolling through her phone.
"You okay?" she asks, looking up. "You look pale."
"I'm fine. Just—" Another contractionhits, stronger this time. I press my hand to my belly and breathe through it. "Just practicing for the real thing, apparently."
Tessa's on her feet immediately. "How close together are they?"
