Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30528 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
I sit on the edge of the bed and rub circles into her back. For a long time, we stay like that. When the sun comes up, I call the fire station, tell them I’ll be late, and keep one ear tuned to her every sigh and shuffle.
Her temperature is normal when I check it, but she’s pale, her lips chapped and trembling. When I try to get her to eat something, she protests, but I manage to force down a few saltines before she refuses another bite.
“Sunshine,” I say, voice low. “This isn’t the flu. Maybe you should take a sick day so we can take you to urgent care.”
Her mouth works, but nothing comes out. She looks terrified.
“Iris?” My voice is softer now, and I brush her hair out of her eyes.
She takes a shuddering breath, then another, and finally whispers, “I think I already know what it is.”
That stops me cold. My brain does a hard reset.
I wait, heart in my throat.
She won’t meet my eyes. “I think I’m pregnant.”
It takes a second to process. The words land, roll around, and finally detonate. Pregnant.
Fuck, I’m an idiot. Happiness bubbles over the panic filling me.
She must see the panic in my eyes, because she immediately backpedals. “I’m not positive. I mean, it could still be a bug, or stress, or… or—” She’s babbling, and her hands are shaking, so I cover them with mine and squeeze.
“I fucking hope you are pregnant,” I say, and while my chest feels like it’s about to explode, I keep my voice calm and steady. “Call in while I run to the convenience store on the corner for a test.” I stand up and start pulling on a T-shirt and shorts. I keep telling myself not to get excited until we know for sure she’s pregnant. But fuck it. I’m so goddamn happy I’m about to explode.
After slipping on my tennis shoes, I sit on the edge of the bed and brush my thumb over her cheek. “We’ll figure it out, Iris. Together. You’re not alone, not for a second.”
She’s quiet for a minute, then says, “I love you.” God, I’ll never get tired of hearing those words coming from her lips.
“I love you, too.” I place a soft kiss on her forehead. “Anything else you need? You want crackers? Ginger ale?”
She gives me a real smile, soft and relieved. “Just the test. And maybe a donut?”
“Done.” I stand, grab my wallet, and head for the door. At the last second, I double back and lean over the bed to kiss her, slow and careful.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IRIS
While Hunter runs to the store, I stare at the ceiling, wide awake, while Buster snores softly at my side. My stomach isn’t roiling anymore, but my brain refuses to shut down. Holy cow. A baby. I definitely didn’t see that coming. Yet, I should’ve. I can’t believe I never even thought about the possibility until my stomach started rebelling each time the sun rises. I run my fingers absently through Buster’s fur, and it’s so soft it’s almost distracting, but not enough to drown out the panic.
The room is a grayish blue, just barely alive with morning. The blinds cut the sunlight into slices, laying stripes across the rumpled blanket and Hunter’s pillow. The only other light comes from the hallway, a little glow sneaking in under the bedroom door. I’ve never been this tired or this awake in my entire life.
What if I really am pregnant? What if I’m not? Both options loom equally huge and terrifying. I keep trying to imagine the next hour, or the next week, or the next nine months. My mind bounces between disaster and daydream. The mental whiplash leaves me dizzy.
Buster shifts in his sleep, his nose twitching. He makes a little huffing noise, then resumes his snore. My heart softens for a second. I untangle my hand from his ears and let it rest on my stomach, flat and unremarkable. I can’t feel anything there. No flutter, no sign, no clue.
When I hear the soft metallic click of the deadbolt turning, I jolt upright so hard I nearly send Buster flying off the bed. My pulse pounds as my body goes cold, then hot, then cold again.
The door swings open, and Hunter steps into the bedroom. He’s holding a small white paper bag with the pharmacy logo on the side. In the other hand, he’s clutching a pink box of donuts.
He crosses the room in three strides and sits beside me on the edge of the mattress. The entire bed dips under his weight.
“How are you feeling, Sunshine?” He gently pushes a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Much better,” I whisper as he hands me the paper bag. When our hands touch, I feel the tiniest tremor run through his.