because this test told you to, and getting anything but the fucking world.”
I stare at him, hating the words out of his mouth. “You really don’t think we’re pregnant, do you? Be honest with me.”
“Jesus Christ, that’s not what I’m saying. Don’t twist my words. I’m trying to get you to see—”
I push past him and leave the bathroom, not wanting to hear any more of what he has to say. Tears prick my eyes and I let them fall. I want to curl into a ball, cry my heart out, and forget everything. Everything we’ve just said. Everything we’ve had to go through to get to this point. Everything that might go wrong on Monday.
Winter has other ideas, though. He comes after me, grabbing my arm and spinning me around to face him. “Don’t walk off on me when I’m talking to you.”
I madly wipe my eyes but the tears keep coming. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore and I can’t stand here and listen to you saying the thing that scares me the most about Monday. I don’t want to see anything you want me to see. All I want to do is keep believing there’s a baby inside me.”
“Fuck,” he says, his eyes softening as he pulls me into his arms. “This is hard, angel. I know.”
I bury my face in his chest and let all my tears out.
I don’t know why I thought doing that test was a good idea. He’s right about it, which pisses me off because he’s always bloody right. When I finish crying, I lift my head and meet his gaze. “You suck.” At his arched brows, I explain, “You’re always right. For once, I’d like to be right about something.”
“Trust me, I don’t like being right. You don’t play fair.”
“How do I not play fair?”
“Baby, you know I wanna give you the world. Me trying to take shit away from you while you’re standing there looking at me like I’m the biggest asshole in the world is something I don’t wanna have to do.”
“Well, maybe in future, just stop trying to take shit away from me.”
He shakes his head like he doesn’t know what to do with me. “Is it safe for me to go on my run now or are you gonna get into trouble while I’m gone?”
I sigh. “No, I’ll be a good girl. I’ll just be here dealing with the joys of progesterone pessaries and other fun fertility stuff. But maybe you should take that test with you so I’m not tempted again.”
“Done. And when I get back, you and me are going out for the afternoon. I don’t care where; you choose. But make it something fun you wanna do. Fuck knows we both need to get out.”
He’s right again; we do. And I know exactly what I want to do. I wanna go play putt-putt. Winter isn’t a fan, but he said I could choose. I used to make him play it with me years ago and he always grumbled about it. There was one thing, though, that he liked. It gave him a chance to get handsy with me while he helped me play, and that is perfect for what we need in our relationship right now.
17
Birdie
* * *
I stand in the doorway to our en suite and watch my husband apply balm to his beard. I’m not sure why, but it’s something I like to watch him do.
His eyes meet mine in the mirror. “What are you thinking, angel?”
I smile and move closer, gliding my hands around his waist and pressing a kiss to his back before positioning myself on the vanity next to him. “I was thinking how much I love watching you apply that balm and that maybe”—I take the container of balm from him—“you should let me do it for you today.”
He moves in between my legs. “You can do it whenever you want to.” The deep rumble in his voice curls deep inside me; we haven’t had sex for weeks and today I’m missing the intimacy.
I rub some balm into my hands and gently smooth it over his beard. My touch is light, tender, and my eyes remain locked onto his. “I was also thinking,” I say slowly as I wrap my legs around his, “about how much I miss you.”
He places his hands either side of me on the vanity and leans closer. “And?”
I like the heat I see in his eyes. My tummy flutters at that