startling my focused thoughts.
Lex: Sorry stuck downtown. Won’t be home till late. Sleep well beautiful, I promise I’ll make it up to you.
My shoulders drop as I fall back into the cushions, disappointed at the text. I know Lex has work commitments he can’t get out of. This is Lex’s life. I don’t know why part of me expects it will be different now—that we will both be home by six every night, cook dinner together, and have a lovely meal followed by hot sex and mindless television.
He is a fucking billionaire for God’s sake and obviously worked hard to get to that position.
That night, I climb into bed and take out my What to Expect When You’re Expecting book, but fall asleep soon after conception.
It’s dark, but I feel him slide in beside me. His body smells amazing, freshly showered, and with heavy eyelids, I open them slightly to see my clock. It is just past midnight. I stir, trying to wake myself up.
“Shh,” he whispers.
“It’s late.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Struggling to maintain any sort of conversation, I fall into a deep sleep until the morning light creeps into the room. I’m awake again, but this time his lips are all over me, his cock pressing hard against my thigh.
“Good morning,” he murmurs into my ear before sliding in.
I gasp, unprepared for the pleasure to spread throughout me since I just woke up. Plunging further into me, he fucks me hard before I call out his name, riding out the orgasm which only takes me two minutes to reach.
Catching my breath, I clear my throat to speak. “That’s a nice way to wake up.”
“I’m sorry about last night.”
“It’s okay, Lex, you work. I get it.”
“But it’s only our second night together here.”
“We’ll have plenty more nights.”
He pulls himself off me and lays by my side, resting on his elbow. “I have some bad news.”
“What?”
“I have to go to California on Saturday but just for a day. I’ll be back on Sunday night.”
Of course, I’m disappointed. I mean, it will be our first time apart, and it hasn’t even been a week. I try my best not to show it, but my damn hormones are all over the place.
“Okay. Will this happen all the time?”
“No… I mean, occasionally. I’m sorry I can’t get out of this one. Look at me, please.”
I turn to face him, trying not to cry. I blame the hormones—always blame the hormones.
“This is an adjustment for both of us. I’m not used to having to factor someone else in just like you aren’t. But I’m learning the word delegate… please be patient with me.”
“Of course, I’ll be patient with you. This is a huge adjustment for me, too.”
He wraps his arms around me, burying his head into my chest. Stroking his hair, I remember the ultrasound appointment, scolding myself for forgetting to text yesterday.
“I booked in the ultrasound, it’s at midday. I’m sorry I completely forgot to tell you. Will it be okay, or should I reschedule?”
“I’ll be there… wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
At midday, we are in the ultrasound room as the sonographer moves that wand-looking thing around my belly smeared with lube. Oh gross, it so reminds me of Eric’s endless KY stories.
“Okay, so I’m just going to take a few measurements first.” She continues to click on buttons and type as Lex sits beside me, resting his hand on my forearm. Both of our eyes are glued to the screen, waiting in anticipation for her to finish the important stuff.
Having a medical background, Lex is analyzing the image, his face serious as he watches her do her job. Secretly, I think she is intimated by his persistent stare.
“So, this here is your baby,” she says, pointing to this little pea-shaped thing on the screen.
“And judging by the size, you are about nine weeks along.”
“Nine weeks already?” I ask, stunned.
“Give or take a few days. Now time to hear the heartbeat.”
She turns up the dial on the monitor, and I wait, holding my breath until the loud thumping sound echoes through the room. It’s like music to my ears, the tell-tale sign that our baby exists, but this time I treasure this moment. This unbelievable life-changing moment consumes me so much I’m ready to burst into tears.
My eyes refuse to leave the screen as I watch our baby, in its tiny form, move up and down on the screen. It may be black and white, making absolutely no sense, but that little pea is