Page 146 of Third and Ten

“If I may, your honor,” Blake interrupts again. “While Mr. and Mrs. Bourgeois did pursue an earlier wedding date in light of their current situation, I can assure you their intentions were to establish a stable household for Ethan and to provide him with a respectable father figure, especially since the recent passing of his grandfather, Mr. Jude Robin, the man who raised Ethan in Mr. Jameson’s absence for the past sixteen years.”

Nice job, Blake.

I glance up at JD, who’s smiling proudly. My stomach flutters yet again, and I feel the acid rising in my throat.

Oh, no. Not now.

“I suppose that’s reasonable. But what evidence do you have proving that you didn’t get married simply to win this custody hearing?” the judge demands.

“We did convince Father Conrad to marry us, even on a tight timeline, and we also completed pre-marriage counseling through the Church,” JD answers for both of us, since I can barely handle breathing and standing at the moment.

But the judge seems to be too busy staring at me to hear it. “Mrs. Bourgeois, are you all right? You look a little…green.”

I lick my lips, trying to nod because I know I’ll be in trouble if I open my mouth now. My eyes dart around the room, only to discover that everyone is watching me closely. Then my face flushes, my heartbeat throbs in my ears—and suddenly, everything goes black.

* * *

Tenley, babe, wake up.

I hear JD’s voice off in the distance, but I can’t seem to open my eyes. Then I taste bile in the back of my throat and I turn to the side, attempting to spare my husband from having to wear my vomit on his fancy suit for the rest of the morning.

A trash can appears quickly, and I think I see Ethan in my peripheral vision. I heave over the bin a couple of times, and he hands me a paper napkin while JD holds my hair and rubs my back gently.

“I’m so sorry,” I murmur, my hands trembling as I try to blot my face.

I feel a welcome gust of fresh air and lift my eyes to find Blake standing over us and fanning me with a legal-size manila folder. “Well, wasn’t that well timed, Mrs. Bourgeois,” he says with a cocky smirk.

“What?” I barely manage to get out.

Then the realization hits me, and I almost hurl again. “Oh. Yeah. Shit.”

JD furrows his brow. “What’s wrong?”

I glance over to find Ethan looking just as concerned.

“Should I run with it or what?” Blake whispers, still smiling.

I exhale slowly, my head still feeling fuzzy. My boobs are also sore, and my stomach is still cutting flips. And my period is due any day now. But this isn’t PMS, and Aunt Flo is not coming this time.

“I…I, uh…”

“Tenley?” JD speaks up. “What’s he talking about?”

I visualize my chart and count backward in my mind. JD and I spent the entirety of the day after our wedding in bed, which appears to be a risky decision in hindsight, given the way my cycle panned out. I scold myself for not paying more attention since then, having confirmed that my window of fertility had closed before my only concern became adding tiny hearts to my chart each day. (Not that my husband seems to mind helping me keep that streak going.) I certainly know which symptoms to look out for, like a secondary rise in my basal body temperature, but I’ve been so busy with adjusting to married life and preparing for the hearing that I simply put the possibility out of mind.

I look back at Blake and nod solemnly. “Yes,” I answer weakly. “It’s definitely possible…actually, probable would be more accurate.”

“This ought to make for a funny story one day,” Blake mumbles, laughing to himself. Then he slaps JD on the back heartily.

“Anyone wanna tell me what in the hell is going on?” JD demands, his tone changing.

“I’m just guessing here,” Ethan begins, trying to keep a straight face. “But it sounds like you’re still an overachiever, Coach.”

“He always did go for the touchdown on every drive, you know,” Blake adds, cracking himself up.

Ethan bites his lip. “I guess this is what happens when you make it too easy for him to score,” he barely manages before breaking out into his own fits of laughter. I reach over and backhand the same shoulder from earlier.

JD shakes his head again, still confused. “Can you please explain why I should be okay with them making fun of you while you’re sick?”

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