All his exact words, not mine.
The doctor is patient, however. She says that we can’t do much about it. Every woman’s body is different and it sucks but I’m going to have to ride through it. And usually it clears up by the second trimester. However, if I really can’t bear it, she can prescribe me some mild anti-emetics.
Honestly though, these things take a natural course and she doesn’t think there’s any cause for worry at this point. So I refuse the anti-emetics — despite Reed being all upset over it — and thank the doctor for all the help.
And then Reed drives me home.
My new home that I’ll be living in for the foreseeable future.
It’s not my old house where I wanted to live with Conrad.
This is another thing I put my foot down about.
Living separately, living on my own.
Because after everything that happened and what Conrad told me about him taking care of us while growing up, I wasn’t going to burden him more. He’s already taken care of me and my brothers, he deserves a break now. Especially now that he’s got a new job. He doesn’t deserve a pregnant sister living in his house.
So I told them I’d live in an apartment close to school and once I’m out of St. Mary’s and have a job, I’ll pay them back for everything.
But Reed refused.
He already had a plan for that too.
So I’m going to live in this house.
It’s a house made of all glass, or mostly glass with tall windows taking up all the wall space, and it sits on top of a cliff in the town of Wuthering Garden.
It’s the same house that Reed brought me to that night. When he found me on the street outside of the Blue Madonna. His vacation home, or a vacation home that’s his for now.
I haven’t been able to really crack who it belongs to other than the fact that it belongs to a friend of his and is located close enough to the clinic and my school.
It’s gorgeous though.
Just like the guy who’s driven me over from the clinic in his Mustang.
As soon as he comes to a stop, he climbs out and walks around the car to open the door for me. The first day I got out by myself and it pissed him off. So now I wait for him to do his thing.
It’s not something he used to do two years ago though.
He’d get the door for me once when I was climbing in. I was free to climb out on my own after that.
Now he likes to help me with that as well. Just as he likes to help me with my backpack, which he’s still carrying as he walks me to the front door.
He only gives it back to me when I’m at the door, exactly on the threshold, with the door unlocked, ready to go in.
I know what he’s going to do now.
“You’ve got your phone with you?” he asks like he always does.
“Yes.”
Last week he bought me a new cell phone. Cell phones and personal technology are prohibited at St. Mary’s so I had to leave my old one, the one I had at Bardstown High, at home. I told him that I could still use the old one but he shot me an irritated look and bought me my current phone.
My brothers wanted to pay for half of it.
Reed gave them an irritated look as well but they glared at him back, so my brothers split the cost.
“And groceries and things are stocked?”
“They are.”
I have groceries for days actually.
Because again, Reed bought me everything over the weekend and then my brothers showed up with groceries too. So I have two sets of every food item. After a lot of discussion, they have now come up with a rotating schedule as to who will bring me groceries what week. This was a much more heated discussion than the cell phone one because they’d found out that Reed had already hired a cook and a housekeeper to come every day.
“Good. I’ll come by tomorrow to pick you up. Same time,” he instructs. “Lock the door after me.”
As usual.
He picks me up and he drops me off. He gives me instructions and then he leaves. Only to do it all over again the next day.
Because he doesn’t live here with me.
He lives in a hotel. One of the most luxurious hotels in Wuthering Garden, only fifteen minutes away from me. He made that very clear when my brothers asked him about it.
When he told them he already had a house for me, Con’s first question was where would Reed live. And he said that he’d be staying in a different place but close enough to get to me in record time if something happened.
As much as my brothers hate that I’m living alone now, they agree with this. They don’t want Reed anywhere near me even though I’m having his baby and he’s taking care of everything.
Before he can leave though, I ask, “Are you going back to the office?”
He’s taken aback by my question, I guess because I usually let him go without comment. But not today.
Today I have to say something to him.
His eyes flicker with suspicion as he answers. “Yeah. Why?”
“Just curious.” I shift on my feet. “So I was thinking something.”
His suspicion only grows. “And what might that be?”
“What do you… do for fun?”
“What?”
Ugh.
Seriously? What am I asking him?
But now that I’ve said it, I forge ahead, “I-I mean, all I’ve seen you do this last week is go to the office and take care of me and… What do you do after this? Like hobbies and stuff. Do you work on cars, I mean… there must be something you do to relax.”
It’s been bothering me for days now.
The fact that this job is killing him and that he has to do it because of me. He should be doing what makes him happy.
Like cars maybe and…
“I don’t have time to relax.”
“But –”
“Just lock the door after I leave.”
“Does he… know?” I ask him then with wide eyes.
“Does who know what?”
“That I’m pregnant. Your dad.” I pause to swallow down my racing heartbeats. “Does he know that you’re doing all this for me?”
The man who wanted to punish me for stealing his son’s car. And rightfully so.
The man who forced Reed to give up soccer in exchange for my freedom.
I wonder if he knows and if he does, what must he be thinking about it. About the fact that I’m pregnant with his son’s baby.
The flutters inside my stomach make an appearance and I can’t help but put my hand on my belly. And when I do, his eyes inevitably focus on it.
There’s a purple bruise on his right cheekbone that ripples at my question. It thrums just like the look in his gaze, all angry and determined. “You don’t have to worry about my father. I’ve got it under control.”
“But Reed —”
“I can handle my dad, all right? It’s fine.”
That’s exactly it, isn’t it?
That he keeps saying everything is fine. That he’s taking care of everything.