Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Some distant part of me knew it was just the hormones, but that part of me was a whisper in a fucking hurricane. The rest of me thought it was completely logical to be sobbing uncontrollably about brownies.
Kip stared at me for a few beats, maybe to see if I was done, maybe gauging how sane I was. I waited for him to lapse back into that cold person who was utterly disgusted by the responsibility of a pregnant wife and then a child after that.
“Okay,” he said, face staying open and somewhat warm. He leaned forward to the coffee table and grabbed the remote for the TV. “First, we’re going to put on Harry Potter,” he said. “Because that’s what you need when you feel sad.”
My hysterical sobs paused. “How do you know I like to watch Harry Potter when I’m sad?”
Kip switched the movie on. “Because you told me, and I remembered?”
I racked my brain to think about when I might’ve told Kip about how the safety of my childhood movie made me feel protected and far away from all of my problems.
Hadn’t we been all about sex? No learning about each other. No liking each other.
There had been a lot of sex. A whole lot. But there were also long dinners. With wine. And talking. Not about our pasts. Well, harmless tidbits here and there… about the fields where I’d passed out drunk in high school and the experiences I had before I ended up here. But I went pretty shallow on the details before Jupiter. Mostly teenage binge drinking, and the minor car crashes I’d survived as a result of teenage binge drinking.
Kip was the same. He’d speak a little about Deidre, the shit she’d pull, when she bought him condoms and erotic novels instead of porn because she wanted him to read things written by women instead of consume trash made by men exploiting women.
The mere memory made me smile.
I missed Deidre. She kept in touch—a lot of texts, pictures, and missed calls. I’d always text her back, but I had yet to tell her I was pregnant. Though I didn’t know the woman well, I got the sense that as soon as Deidre found out she was going to be a grandmother, she’d drop everything to come visit. She’d be excited. We’d go shopping.
Nora, Calliope, and Tiffany had all tried to get me to go shopping for baby things, especially now that I was in the relative ‘safety’ of the second trimester. I’d fought them off. Yes, the risks of something happening now were greatly reduced, but they weren’t zero. And I only had experience with loss. It was ingrained in my muscles. I was still waiting for it, still bracing. Buying baby things was tempting fate.
My friends here had understood this, had respected my boundaries.
Deidre, bless her, would not respect my boundaries. She’d blow in and have a nursery built and decorated within the week. And she’d expect her son to be a loving, doting, real husband. We’d done well at pretending before things got complicated, but I feared we’d fail miserably this time around. And fuck if I didn’t want to see the disappointment on her face when she found out her son and I were in a sham marriage.
“I’m going to make brownies,” Kip said, jerking me out of my fast-spiraling thoughts. “You’re gonna watch this.” He nodded to the screen showing title credits and playing a soundtrack that made my tense muscles relax.
“You’re going to make brownies?” I asked him.
He nodded.
I sucked my teeth. “Have you made brownies before?”
“I have not found the occasion to make brownies, but the internet is surely full of great recipes where the author tells their life story before getting to the actual fucking recipe,” he joked.
“You’re going to make me brownies?” I clarified, feeling wary and waiting for impact.
“Yes, Fiona.” Kip pulled the throw from the back of the sofa and draped it over me, leaning in to wipe a tear from my cheek before he stood up. “Now watch your movie,” he ordered before walking out of the room.
I was so stunned, I did as he said, quickly losing myself in the magic of Hogwarts. Although I didn’t completely sink in, listening to Kip in the kitchen, clanging bowls around. I found I liked this. Being curled up on the sofa, warm and safe, the sun setting against the ocean, the sounds of life in my house. The sounds of another person. Soon, there was a deep and rich smell of chocolate emanating from the kitchen.
Then Kip was walking into the living room with a plate piled high of brownies, smelling like they came from heaven—or Nora’s bakery, which was the same place—and perking me up even more than HP had.
“Gimme,” I said desperately, propping myself up.