I shook my head, looking down at my belly. I thought about what we had created and felt guilty for even voicing my worries. “I don’t want to get out. I love Ethan. He tells me he loves me all the time. And I need him . . . now.”
“Brynne, do you realize what you just said?”
I looked up into her smiling eyes and knew I was going to spill the rest.
“I need Ethan. I need him for everything. I need him in order to be happy, and to be the father of this baby we made, and to love me and care for me . . .” My voice trailed off to a whimper that sounded so pathetic I loathed myself in that moment.
Dr. Roswell spoke so softly: “That’s very scary, isn’t it?”
The tears started coming and I reached for a tissue. “Yeah,” I sobbed, taking a moment to get the next part out, “I need him so badly . . . and it makes me utterly vulnerable . . . and what will I do if some day he decides he doesn’t want me anymore?”
“It’s called trust, Brynne, and it is by far the hardest gift to give away.”
She was right about that.
Dinner alone pretty much sucked. I wouldn’t complain to Ethan, though. I understood how busy he was at work and there had been lots of evening events for him lately. I cleaned up from my vegetable soup and French bread dinner, which so far was staying put in my stomach. Thank God for the anti-nausea medication or I was sure I’d be dead by then. The vomiting seemed to be behind me for the most part, if I kept to very simple food and took the meds regularly. Both Freddy and Dr. Burnsley said I had something called hyperemesis gravidarum, or in plain English, severe morning sickness. In my case it started as evening sickness and serious dehydration, and could eventually cause malnutrition if left untreated. Lovely. So suffice it to say, I was trying my best to eat.
I’d gotten a text from Ethan about an hour earlier telling me he would be home late and eating dinner at his office. I understood, but that didn’t mean I had to like it. The Olympics were huge and it was exciting as the buildup to the opening ceremonies grew. I really did understand the demands Ethan was under at work, and it made me feel better to know that he hated it as much as I did, if not more. He told me all the time how much he wished he could just stay in for one of my home-cooked dinners and cuddle in front of the television together and have sex for dessert.
Yeah, me too.
I was a wreck emotionally and I knew it. I was lonely, and hormonal, and far too needy at the moment. I hated feeling needy.
I looked longingly over at the Miele coffeemaker, which had to be worth more than my boot collection, and sulked as I wiped down the granite worktop. No good coffee for the next seven months was gonna suck about as much as the lonely dinner did tonight. I didn’t do decaf and figured torturing myself with only one cup a day wasn’t worth the hassle.
I was finding my inner Zen and gaining a close personal relationship with herbal teas instead. Raspberry and Tangerine Zinger had been pleasant surprises, I must admit. I made a cup of the Raspberry Zinger and called Benny.
“Hello, my lovely darling.”
“I miss you. What are you up to tonight?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too pathetic.
“Ricardo’s here and we’re just done with dinner.”
“Ahhh, well, why did you even answer the phone? You’re otherwise busy. Sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to give you a drive-by love blast.”
“No, no, no, my sweet. Not so fast. What is going on with you?” Ben was without a doubt the most emotionally intuitive man on the planet. He could sniff out the smallest innuendo and go wild with possible scenarios. I’d seen him in action enough to know.
“Nothing is going on with me,” I lied. “You’re busy and have company. Call me tomorrow, okay?”
“No. Ricardo’s sorting out some work business on a call of his own. Start talking.”
I sighed into the phone. Why did I call Ben again?
“I’m waiting, darling. What is going on with you?”
“Ben, I’m fine. Everything is good. I’ve moved in with Ethan and he’s very swamped with work and the Games coming. I’m just doing my thing.”
“So you’re alone tonight?” Ben was going to ask me for details, one after the other. I am so dumb sometimes.
“Yes. He’s so busy right now with organization meetings.”
“Why on earth didn’t you call me? I’d have taken you out for a spin.”
“No, you have plans with the fantastically handsome Ricardo, remember? I’ve not felt like going out for a spin the last days anyway.”
“You’re not feeling well?”
Fuck. “No, Ben, really I’m good. I was just home alone and missing my friend and wanted to hear your voice is all. We haven’t talked since the boot photos you took.”