by Stasia Black
Apparently, it’s better if you eat a couple saltines before you even sit up. We’ve been trying that. I still feel like throwing up whatever I ate the night before, but sometimes I can manage to keep it down.
And calling it morning sickness is a total joke.
It’s all day sickness. I feel awful all the time.
I guess it does ease up a little bit at night. Which means Xavier tries to stuff me full of all the food he can manage to get down my gullet because he’s constantly worried about me and the baby not getting enough nutrition. Explaining to him that the baby is the size of a pea doesn’t seem to matter.
Xavier sets down the piece of toast he’s feeding me when the doorbell rings. He’s taken to feeding me my breakfast in bed each morning. He figures if a few crackers can help settle my stomach, why not just keep me in bed for the whole meal? And glaring at me when I only manage the few bites I can choke down.
His constant refrain is, “Just one bite of the eggs? Not even for our son or daughter?”
Guilt trips are his new favorite manipulation tactic and he uses them relentlessly to get his way. If I thought being pregnant would earn me some leniency from his controlling tendencies, ha! No, it’s just won me Xavier 2.0.
He loves barking orders at me and while I still get the nice long showers at night, there are no longer any of the perks. Just a quick wash and off to bed now. It’s starting to get insufferable.
Sometimes I wonder if I matter to him at all anymore or if I was always just a vehicle to get him what he really wanted—a kid to carry on his name and his genes.
Part of me thinks: duh, that’s obviously all he wants, it’s the whole reason he brought you here.
But another, maybe deluded, part objects: no! We’ve built something. There really is an us. He constantly refers to the baby as our son or daughter. Not just the baby. Surely that means he envisions me in the picture. Right?
Right???
Because even though I swore I never wanted to be a mother, now that it’s a reality, I can’t imagine anything different.
Me. Xavier. This baby. Our baby and the little family I keep envisioning every time I close my eyes. But what if I’m deluding myself? Fear about it all is almost enough to keep me up at night—except I’m constantly exhausted so I always drop off as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Dr. Winthrop knocks briefly on the door and then steps through. She has the large, hard-backed, black suitcase with her again, and today she immediately sets it on the bed and opens it.
Oh. The whole thing is a machine—a portable ultrasound machine, I imagine. The top half of the case holds a monitor and the bottom a keyboard and what I assume is the rest of the machine. Along with a wand attached by a long wire that the doctor begins to uncoil.
She looks up at Xavier as she pulls out a cord from the other side. “Do you have somewhere I might plug in?”
Xavier hurries to drag the cord to a plug near the bed and soon the machine is beeping to life and the doc is sticking what looks like a condom over the wand and then up my hoo haa it goes.
She pokes it this way.
Then that way.
Then, holy shit— Is that—
A swift, steady wheeoo-wheeoo-wheeoo sound fills the bedroom.
My hand shoots out to the side where Xavier’s sturdy fingers grasp mine.
Wheeoo-wheeoo-wheeoo-wheeoo-wheeoo-wheeoo.
“That’s a strong, steady heartbeat,” Dr. Winthrop announces, smiling as she looks between me and Xavier.
I expel a relieved breath and then look up at Xavier. His eyes are glued to the screen where the doctor goes on to point out a small circle she says is a gestational sac and a little dot that’s apparently our baby.
“Since you’re so regular,” she smiles at me like it’s a personal accomplishment, “we can confidently say you’re seven weeks along.”
Seven weeks. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit!
Xavier’s hand squeezes around mine and I wonder if he’s having the same internal reaction. Like, yeah, I’ve been thinking—okay, obsessing—about the fact that we’re having a freaking baby. But it’s still been a kind of esoteric idea.
All of the sudden it feels real. Like, holy shit, this is actually happening. To me. I’m going to be a mom and Xavier a dad and holy shit!
I look at Xavier again with what probably looks like an insane Joker’s grin from the mix of excitement and terror running through my veins.
He’s looking at me this time and I have to swallow hard at what I see.
There’s a sheen over his eyes that he doesn’t bother blinking away. Instead he pulls me close and crushes me to his chest. He kisses the top of my head. “Precious,” he whispers barely loud enough for me to hear.
Oh my God. We’re having a baby. I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life.
Which means I’m not like my mother after all. I do have the capacity to love this baby. I can do everything differently.
Except…
I have no idea what the hell I’m doing.
I pull out of Xavier’s grasp and turn to Dr. Winthrop. “Ok, so tell me everything I need to know. What are the dos and don’ts? What do I need to do so I don’t fuck up this kid while he or she is still inside me?”
If she hears the sudden panic in my voice, she doesn’t let on. She just ticks things off in a calm voice. “No highly strenuous physical activities. No running or jogging unless that’s already a part of your normal routine,” she pauses and I nod along.
“No high impact aerobics,” Xavier takes up where the doctor left off, listing them off on his fingers. He’s obviously already memorized this stuff. “No saunas or hot tubs—anything above 102 degrees can be unsafe.” No wonder he’s switched us to showers lately. God, he could have just told me.
But still, the fact that he’s already studied up on all this stuff kind of makes me want to jump him right here. Speaking of…
I look back to the doctor. “What about sex?”
She pauses in discarding the wand condom and looks up at me, mouth dropping open slightly before she closes it and resumes her professional manner. “Um. What about it?”
“When can I have it again?”
“Oh.” She looks surprised. “There’s no reason for you to have stopped, um…” her gaze shoots briefly back and forth between Xavier and me, “relations. Your cervix might be a little tender during your first trimester and there might be light spotting, but you’re perfectly healthy. It won’t cause any risk to the baby.”
My mouth drops open and I swing my head around to look accusingly at Xavier. “I thought she said we couldn’t—”
His mouth is a flat line. “I never said that. I just didn’t think it was a good idea considering—”
“I’ll be heading out now,” Dr. Winthrop says, probably wisely as she sees the daggers I’m shooting Xavier’s way. She wants to get out before the hormonal pregnant woman loses it on the baby daddy. “What to Expect When You’re Expecting or other books like it are a good resource to answer your questions and of course my line is always open to you.”
She closes up her machine, then takes it and her bag and makes a quick exit.
I’m left glaring at Xavier.
“You’ve been denying me for no reason at all? Not even any orgasms? I thought she’d told you the muscle spasms would be bad for the baby or something!” Maybe it sounds dumb now that I say it out loud—but I haven’t had access to Google.
I chuck a pillow at his head and he deftly dodges out of the way. Ugh! Annoying quick-reflexed bastard!
I throw another one but I’m quickly out of ammo.
“The doctor says you shouldn’t engage in strenuous activity,” he has the gall to respond.
“You heard her, she said aerobics and hard-core jogging. She probably meant weight-lifting and stuff like that. Besides, she specifically just said sex was safe.”
He heaves out a heavy breath. “Well, there are other things that aren’t.”
/> I throw up my hands. “Like?”
He steps forward until he leans over me where I sit in the middle of the bed. “No contact sports and no horse riding.”
I’m about to object to the last one when he silences me. “Even the most experienced rider can take a tumble. I will not take the risk with you and our child.”
Well, that shuts me up. Me and our child.
So… am I not the only one picturing Daddy and baby and me makes three?
It’s been a big enough hurdle getting accustomed to the idea that I actually want to be a mother. I haven’t wavered since the initial realization. That’s not how I work. I’m not sure if it’s a strength or a weakness—but once I commit to a course of action, I’m in it, come hell or high water.
So, me and this motherhood thing? I might have never changed a single diaper in my life or have any clue what the hell I’m doing, but this kid is mine.
Thing is, that wasn’t part of the contract.
Neither was falling for Xavier.
I want them both.
Life has proven a tricky bitch when it comes to giving me what I want, though.
“What happens after the baby is born?” I ask, moving to the edge of the bed. I need my feet on solid ground for this. My need to know suddenly outweighs my fear of his answer. “Are you still planning to ship me back to New York and keep our baby for yourself?”
My arms cross over my stomach protectively and I lift my chin. “Because you can go to hell if that’s what you think. I don’t care about the stupid contract I signed.”
There it is. My line in the sand. I’m not sure if I’m saying that when push comes to shove, I choose our baby over him, but I do know there’s no goddamned way he’s pushing me out of this child’s life.
Xavier’s face goes hard and his blue eyes icy as he stands above me beside the bed. “I will chase you and our child to the ends of the earth if you ever try to leave me.”
“What? That wasn’t even—”
He lifts me by the armpits onto the bed and then drops on top of me, covering my body with his own. His eyes are still dangerous. He hovers several inches over me but it’s no less intimidating. “If you ever so much as think of leaving me, I’ll tie you to this bed. You’ll think those couple days in the dog kennel were a walk in the park compared to the chains I’ll lock on you while your belly gets fat with my son or daughter.”
“Just while I’m pregnant? Can’t bear to let your precious cargo out of your sight, huh?” I struggle underneath the slight pressure of his weight that he uses to hold me down with and he grabs my wrists, pinning them to either side of my head. I scream in frustration, then spit out, “Was I ever anything more to you than a goddamned walking incubator?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and turn my head away after my outburst, knowing I’ve revealed too much. Exposed my raw insides.
When I feel his large fingers underneath my chin, I resist his pulling my head back toward him. Naturally, I lose the struggle and finally give in.
“Look at me,” he orders.
I keep my eyes stubbornly shut.
“Look at me.” He gives my chin a firm shake.
Goddamn him, I know he won’t give up until I do as ‘Master’ commands, so I open my eyes, flashing them furiously. Anger is my best shield at the moment.
I expect to see him looking just as hard and angry.
What I’m not prepared for is the softness that takes over his features. Or the way his eyes flick back and forth between mine like he’s searching for something.
“I never saw you like that.” He speaks the words softly. “I’ve been training you because I wanted you to stay. For you to choose to stay.” The blue of his irises has never seemed more vibrant. “So I could keep you.”
I— Does that mean—
I blink. I’m not sure if he means ‘training me’ like training me to work with horses or training me like he trains the horses.
So I could keep you.
In the end, it doesn’t matter which way he meant it. I’m in far too deep.
“I love you,” I blurt.
His eyes widen and then he crushes his lips down on mine.
I feel like I could fly.
I feel like—
He rolls us on the bed so that I’m on top of him. His hands roam down my body.
I feel like—
“Gotta throw up!” I yelp and shove away from him.
“Shit,” he mutters but immediately moves into action, jumping off the bed and helping me to the toilet.
After he’s held my hair back and I’ve lost the little bit of toast from earlier, I’m laughing and crying as I hunch over the freshly flushed toilet bowl. “Consider this no reflection on my feelings. I really do love you.”
He wraps one arm around my waist and drops his forehead to the small of my back, hugging me tightly. His deep chuckle echoes around the bathroom.
Chapter 18
“And now to complete the tour, here’s the stable,” I say into the camera phone, on Skype with my dad. I’m careful to keep the camera trained on my face rather than putting it somewhere stationary. Halfway through the second trimester, I’m clearly showing. I don’t think Dad’s quite ready for that bombshell yet.
Dad looks skeptical on the other end. This is only the second call we’ve done like this and no matter how many times I assure him that I’m well, healthy and happy, I know he’s worried that Xavier’s right off camera, like, pointing a gun at me to get me to say these things. I think only time will convince him I actually mean what I’m saying.
The stable is much darker than the bright summer day outside but the camera adjusts and I take Dad around the stable. I introduce him to the horses and stop in front of Hot Lips’s stall.
“Now I’m going to groom Hot Lips. She’s pregnant and about to pop. We keep her in here where it’s cool and she’s got plenty of access to food and water.”
“Enough about the horses,” Dad says shortly. He leans forward into the screen and whispers, “Is he around?”
I rub a hand down Hot Lips’s mane and sigh.
“No, Daddy, he’s not, but it wouldn’t make a difference even if he was. I told you, I’m not a captive here. It’s not like that. I’m perfectly safe. I can come and go as I please.” I’m not exactly sure if that’s true, but I think it is. It brings up a good point, though. I should ask Xavier for the car so I can go and visit Tom’s wife. I think we’ve reached that stage of trust and if we haven’t, well, that’s a big problem I’d rather face now rather than later.
“Dad, I’m happy. Really happy.” I grin, thinking of the string of wonderful days Xavier and I have been sharing lately.
By the middle of the second trimester, the nausea is much better, thank God. Dealing with the urge to throw up was bad enough, but Xavier’s constant paranoia about me not gaining enough weight and obsessing about every morsel of food that did or did not go into my mouth? Yeah, that might have driven me right to the very edge of insanity.
And it’s hard to have much of a libido when you feel like hurling every other second.
But the blessed second trimester!
Something no one ever told me about pregnancy? Well, it’s not like I ever had any pregnant friends or anything, working my way up the corporate ladder in a mostly man’s world—but anyway.
It makes you horny as hell. I’m not even kidding. It hits somewhere around the second month of the second trimester. The morning/all day sickness is finally mostly gone and then boom. All I can think about all the time is getting Xavier naked.
“Oh my God,” Dad whispers. “You’re in love with him.”
I jerk my attention back to the small screen in my palm. He looks stunned and worried but I don’t look away. I just meet his gaze and nod. “I am, Dad, and he’s worth it. I wish you could meet him. He’s a good, honorable man.”
Dad swallows and rakes a hand through his hair that’s graying just at the edges. He’s gotten very tan over the past months and h
e looks more fit as well. Earlier he told me he does a lot of swimming and his diet consists of fish, much of which he catches himself, and lots of fresh vegetables. “I don’t know what to think, baby. I mean, there’s this man. And… horses?”
I feel my expression soften and I laugh. “I know. None of this is what I could have ever expected for myself either. But I’m happy. Please be happy for me, too, Dad.”
He hesitates, eyes still wary, but finally he nods.
My phone beeps and I see the battery sign flashing in the corner. “I’m about to run out of battery, Dad. Love you and talk to you soon.”
“You better,” he warns. “Love you, honey.”
“Love you, too.” I blow him a kiss and then hang up, slipping the phone back in my pocket.
God, I love that Dad and I are back in contact again and I know he’s not as worried about me anymore. Just another of the compromises Xavier’s been willing to make lately in order to see to my happiness.
I give a good, long stretch, loosening my lower back muscles, then get to grooming Hot Lips. It’s early evening and I like to give her a lot of attention these days. I feel bonded with her since she’s so big with her foal. I can only imagine how hot and uncomfortable she’s got to be, just a few weeks away from giving birth. She’s comfortable with me and I like to take her out to the side paddock to walk her in circles so she can get some low-impact exercise each day. Well, so both of us can. One of my compromises? I do very little strenuous work around here now.
“That feels good, doesn’t it, girl?” I ask after finishing with the curry comb. I’m about to reach for her hard brush when I see Xavier walk into the stable.
My mouth immediately goes dry. At the same time, my sex starts pulsing so hard between my legs I have to twist them together.
I mentioned the horny as hell thing, right?
He’s sweaty and he pulls his button up work-shirt off, revealing a sweat-drenched tank top underneath.
I remember the day he teased my clitoris with a soft grooming brush and all but moan where I stand.
