A growl of frustration rips from my throat. “Do you still love me?”
I feel it, but I need the words. I need something.
For a moment, I think she’s going to leave without giving me an answer…but then I hear it.
“I love you so much it hurts.”
The words hang between us…and then she’s gone.
I love her so much it hurts, too.
Chapter 66
Kit
“Can I feel your fundus?”
I glare at Juan from across the kitchen island where we’re working. Or rather, where I’m trying to work.
“What is wrong with you? No, you can’t feel my fundus.” I blink. “What’s a fundus?”
He points to his laptop screen. “According to this, it’s the top of your uterus. You’re fourteen weeks now so it should be starting to show.”
Oh, it’s showing all right. I no longer look like I’ve eaten a big burger for lunch anymore.
I look like I’ve eaten twenty of them.
Okay, maybe not twenty, but I definitely have a noticeable pooch situation going on. Something I’m positive Preston noticed the other day after his therapy session.
I know I have to tell him I’m pregnant. I know this.
It’s just…hard. And the longer it goes on…the harder it is to tell him.
This right here is exactly why I never lie. It’s not worth the trouble and stress it causes both parties.
I close my laptop. “I’m hungry.”
Juan rolls his eyes. “Honey, please. What else is new?”
“You being my assistant is new,” I fire back. “Which means you’re obligated to order us lunch.”
“Puh-lease tell me these bitchy hormones of yours will calm down soon.” He picks up his phone. “What do you want for lunch, boss?” He holds up a finger. “And don’t you dare tell me burgers again, because girl, I am so over watching you inhale those like your life depends on it only to run to the sink two seconds later and puke it all up…while I’m still eating.”
I get where he’s coming from. But man, I was really craving a burger.
I’d tell him burritos, but I will never go near those things again for as long as I live.
“Fine. No burgers. I’ll have a meatball parm hero from the Italian place we love.”
That’s kind of like a burger. With sauce.
He brings the phone to his ear and starts to call in the order.
“Can you ask if they have cannoli?”
I’m craving one something fierce.
Juan picks up a nail file. “Do you have cannoli?”
He nods.
In that case, I know something that will taste awesome. “Can you order two?”
“I’d like to add two cannoli to the ord—”
“Can you tell them to smash the cannoli on top of the meatballs?”
Juan looks at me like I’m crazy. “Ew. Ya nasty. Those two things so don’t belong on the same sandwich.”
I beg to differ. I’m craving savory and sweet, so it sounds like a great combination to me.
I bat my eyelashes. “Please.”
He stops filing. “I’m sorry, but is there any way you can smash the cannoli on top of the meatballs? Yes, I know that’s disgusting, but I’m dealing with a pregnant woman who has gone temporarily insane.” He hangs up. “Anything else you want?”
“Nope. Thanks.”
I look around the kitchen island. I don’t mind being in here, but I kind of miss having an office.
Problem is, I want my office on the first floor…and there’s only one room down here.
My childhood bedroom.
The thought of getting rid of everything is sad…but I’m having a baby. My old toys and stuffed animals can go in their bedroom. Not that I know where that will be yet.
One thing at a time, Kit.
“You know what we need?”
Juan puts down the nail file. “A spa day?”
“An office.” I get off the stool. “And I know just the place we can convert into one.”
Juan follows behind me. “As long as I don’t have to do any heavy lifting. Because girl, I am not about that life.”
Fortunately, Breslin and Landon were able to help me move everything out of my childhood bedroom and put it into the garage.
Unfortunately, it’s taking a bit longer than expected to make the room an office. Over the last two days I’ve had to go out and buy two desks, two computers, office supplies…the works.
“I thought this nesting thing wasn’t supposed to happen until the third trimester,” Juan mutters as he and Landon carry a desk into the room.
“Oh, hush. I let you pick out your own desk and the computer you wanted.”
Granted the one he chose is extravagant as hell. But hey, whatever makes my great friend-slash-mediocre assistant happy.
Breslin walks into the room and hands me a smoothie. I figure I better start getting some healthy nutrients into this baby before it turns into a fast-food burger.
“It’s coming along nicely. We’ll probably be finished by tonight.”
Smiling, I bring the straw to my mouth, only to cringe when I taste a hint of mango. “Please tell me you didn’t put mango in this.”
Breslin blinks. “But you love mango.”
I do…lovebug doesn’t.
Next thing I know, I’m running over to my new trash can. Ugh. Just when this whole morning sickness crap was starting to subside.
“I’m sorry,” Breslin says. “I’ll make you another one.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay.”
I’m officially adding smoothies onto the forever banned list, along with burritos.
I’m about to ask her to pick me up another burger, but then my phone rings and the number for the rehab flashes across my screen.
I bring it to my ear. “Hey, you—”
“Are you okay?” Preston questions, his tone urgent.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because it’s Thursday…and you’re not here.”
I peer up at the clock Breslin’s putting on the wall and curse. I completely forgot about his therapy appointment. Damn pregnancy brain.
“I’m sorry. It completely slipped my mind—”
“It’s fine,” he bites out.
And then the line goes dead.
“What’s wrong?” Breslin questions.
Everything.
Chapter 67
Kit
I made sure to show up twenty minutes early for Preston’s next therapy appointment.
Not that it mattered. He’s the one giving me the cold shoulder now.
For once he spent most of the session addressing Brad instead of me.
I suppose it’s a good thing, because it means he’s trusting his therapist and taking this seriously.
I just wish it didn’t feel like he was dismissing me while doing it.
“What he did took away all my control. It emasculated me. Made me weak,” Preston says. “I fucking hate it.”
I reach for his hand, feeling grateful when he laces our fingers together. “You were seven. But even if you weren’t a kid, it doesn’t mean you’re weak.” Far from it. Preston’s the strongest person I know. “He was weak.”