Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
I burst into tears, and he looks confused for a second until I fit my palm under them and sniffle.
“I’ve had them close to my heart this whole time,” he says.
He’s still wearing his wedding ring. And he’s worn mine close to his heart.
My heart…
“Put them on me, Derek.”
He’s too lost in sensation, too focused on fucking me. My legs are lifted up to rest on his shoulders and he slams back into me, putting his thumb to my clit, running his other hand up and down my leg.
He sets about a rhythm with his fingers and with his pelvis that have me shuddering out in ecstasy in no time at all.
I cry out his name, digging my nails into his skin, and as my legs fall, he spills inside me, collapsing on top of me. I can feel that his heart is beating as fast as mine is. I hang on tight to him, holding him with my arms and my legs. Reaching for him from somewhere deep inside me as our gazes lock.
He looks distraught. Torn up inside. I see so much pain on his face and I want to fix it. I long to fix it. Maybe what I’m about to say next will help.
“Which one do you like the most?”
His forehead crinkles. “Which what?”
“Paint color.”
“Paint it whatever color you want. I’ll even live with the green.”
“I can’t live with that green, husband.”
He swallows.
“Can you reach them?” I ask.
He stares blankly at me.
“The paint swatch thingies.” I stretch, signaling I want him to move.
He doesn’t budge.
“Get me the paint things?”
“That’s what you wanna talk about right now?” he asks, looking at me like I’ve lost it. “Paint it whatever color you want. I think there are other things we should talk about.”
“What things?” I ask.
He looks like the weight of the world is on his broad shoulders.
“I don’t know,” he admits.
“Let’s start with the paint. How about that?”
“The paint,” he repeats.
“Yes. Can you grab those thingies?”
He rolls off me and halfway off the bed to reach them from the floor.
“Which one do you like?” I ask as he holds up the three cardboard sheets.
I take them from him and drop the purple and blue sheets to the bed beside me and hold the sheet with all the blue-gray shades.
“I like this one.” I point to a bluey gray square. “Which one do you like?”
“Chloe, I don’t care what color you paint the bathroom.”
“Okay, we’ll paint it this color then.” I put the paint thingie down and lift the other two.
“Do you care what color we paint the baby’s room? I like this one if it’s a girl. If it’s a boy, I’m not sure which blue I like. Maybe this one?”
His eyes are on me with laser-focus. “The baby’s room?”
“My room was purple when I was a little girl. I just loved it. I didn’t want pink. If it’s a girl and she wants it to be pink, it’ll be pink, but I was thinking a soft lavender first and go from there. If it’s a boy… this blue is kind of nice.” I point to the one closest to robin’s egg. “Though if he or she wants it pink or purple or heaven forbid… neon green – blech – we’ll paint it that.”
Derek jumps up. Not to the floor. He’s standing on the bed, looking down at me.
“Baby’s room?” he repeats.
I bite my lip and nod.
He stares at my naked body and frowns.
“My belly hasn’t popped yet. It probably will in a couple of weeks, though. I haven’t had morning sickness yet, but I’ve been super-tired, and my boobs have been sore.”
“You…” He gives his head a shake. “Wait. What?”
“The pill was in my bra, Derek. I didn’t take it. I thought about it. Believe me, I did. I even unwrapped it. But I couldn’t do it.” I shrug.
“There weren’t any doctor’s appointments in the logs.”
I shake my head. “I called my doctor and she said to start taking prenatal vitamins and to come in at twelve weeks for my first official appointment. I’m not at twelve weeks yet. Do you want to come?”
At least no one was listening to my calls while he was in the hospital.
He falls to his knees on the bed. I sit up and reach to undo his necklace.
“You’re carrying my baby?”
“That’s why you can’t finish all the milk, Derek.”
He closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh. “I drank all the milk.”
“Yeah. Don’t do that.”
He winces. “I threw you on this bed.”
“It’s okay. I landed on my back. I bounced. Put these on me.” I pull the rings off the gold chain.
“Fuck, Chloe.” He puts his forehead to mine. “Fuck, baby.”
His hand splays across my stomach, then he moves down, kissing his way down to my stomach.
When he gets there, he presses a kiss just above my belly button, then just below it, before resting his chin there, love shining in his eyes.