by Lacey Black
“I don’t want you to catch anything if I’ve got a virus.”
“I’m not worried about it,” I tell her, tucking her in beneath her down comforter, even as she tries to protest. “I never get sick. I’m healthy as an ox.”
“Stubborn as one too,” she mumbles and flops her head down on the pillow. I chuckle as I bend down and place another kiss on her forehead.
“I’m going to make you soup.”
“This is completely unnecessary,” she retorts, trying to get out of bed again.
“Stay.” My words are dominating but hold no bite. “You rest for a bit while I go make you some dinner. Be right back,” I say as I go in for another kiss, this time on her lips. She’s hesitant and doesn’t open her mouth for me. I’m assuming that’s because she’s been throwing up.
I make my way down to her kitchen and start opening cabinets. The cans of condensed soup hold absolutely no appeal to me. Grabbing my phone, I find a restaurant only a few blocks away and place an order for two bowls of chicken and rice soup, a large side salad, and fresh Italian bread. I’m not sure what all she’s going to be able to eat, but I’ve covered a few of the basics. Retrieving two bottles of water, I sit and wait for the food to be delivered.
Fortunately, it doesn’t take long. Security informs me that I have a food delivery, which I grant admittance to. When the knock sounds at the door, I’m already standing there with cash in hand. The soup smells delicious as I take the two plastic bags from the delivery boy’s hands, exchange pleasant thank yous, and lock up when he leaves.
With two bottles of water tucked under my arm, I start to head towards the stairs. A plastic bag thrown on her sofa table catches my attention. It looks like she threw it up there in her haste to get to the bathroom. Setting the two bags down on the floor, I grab the discarded bag to make sure it doesn’t have anything in it that would spoil. When I open it, I’m thrown for a loop. My heart rate spikes, my breathing all but stalls in my chest, and my hands start to sweat.
I wasn’t anywhere prepared for what I was about to find staring up at me from within that bag.
Pregnancy tests.
* * *
I gather my wits, as best as I can, and drudge up the stairs as if I were walking through quicksand. My mind is racing a million miles an hour as all the pieces start to slip into place. The reason she wasn’t running a fever. The reason she looked like she’s been throwing up all afternoon. The reason she wanted me to leave without helping her in her time of need. And all reasons lead directly to the contents of the bag that’s stuffed under my other arm.
When I make my way to her room, she’s sitting up. Her eyes drop to the bags that I’m carrying, but she looks as if she’s carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. And, in a way, I guess she is.
Indecision nips at my heels, but I push it aside. Now isn’t the time to second-guess myself. I have a burning question, and there’s only one woman who can answer it.
Sidney watches as I set the bottles of water on the nightstand. I retrieve a bowl of soup from the bag, pull off the lid, and hand it to her. Her eyes light up as if the creamy soup is the best thing she’s seen in weeks. And maybe that’s the truth. After throwing up her guts, she’s probably famished.
I set the sliced loaf of bread on the bed between us and open my own soup. As I sit down across from her, I drop the other bag that I picked up. You know, the one burning a hole in my arm as if it were a lit firecracker.
“This is good,” she says softly, a delicate smile playing on her lips as she takes another tentative bite. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I take a bite of my own soup, but mine tastes like chalk. I can’t taste the juicy chicken, the rice, or the creamy vegetable. The bag on my lap, and the contents in question, has all of my focus right now.
Is she pregnant? Do I want her to be pregnant? Do I really have a choice in the matter?
“Luke?” she asks, pulling my attention up to her stunning aqua eyes. Her hair is mussed, but not from my hands as I’d prefer.
“Yeah?”
“What’s that?” I follow her line of sight and find her eyes boring holes through the other bag. The only bag that hasn’t been opened yet.
I set my soup down on the nightstand, and reach for hers as well. I’m not even close to being ready to have the conversation I know we’re about to have, but I can’t fucking wait another second. Grabbing the bag in my hand, I open it up and pull out the two boxes.
Sidney’s breath catches in her throat as she stares down at my hands. “Where did you get that?” she asks, her voice barely over a whisper.
“When I was heading upstairs with dinner, I found it sitting on the table. I was afraid you set it down when you were sick, and it might need to be put in the fridge.”
“Yeah, I don’t think it needs to be refrigerated,” she cracks sarcastically, but her joke dies a slow, painful death as awkwardness fills the room.
“Something you want to tell me?” I ask gently.
She exhales deeply, closing her eyes. When she opens them a few moments later, I see everything: her fears, her resolve, and even a little excitement. “I wasn’t feeling so well at work today. I assumed it was just a touch of the flu that Jacobi had last week. But then Cass said something about being knocked up and things just sort of clicked into place. The fatigue, the nausea, the tender boobs.” The bastard in me can’t help but glance down at her shirt. Even with the oversized tee covering them, her tits seem to have grown twice their size overnight.
“My eyes are up here. Stop looking at my boobs,” she quips.
I glance up and see a tinge of humor laced in those eyes for the first time since my arrival. “Anyway, I know we’ve only had sex that one time without protection, but it got me thinking…” Her voice trails off, but I know where she was going with this.
“That there’s a chance you might be pregnant.”
She nods her head.
“But you haven’t taken a test?”
She shakes her head.
“Then you might not even be pregnant,” I say, but something foreign stirs in my gut. It’s not relief like I would have expected, but something else. Something that feels like sadness. “You’ve been throwing up all day?”
“Well, not all day. It started this afternoon when I ate a few donuts with Cass. I left early and went to the pharmacy to get the test,” she nods towards the boxes in my lap. “As soon as I hit the elevator, I smelled a cross between old cheese and feet. It turned my stomach instantly. I almost didn’t make it to the bathroom.”
“You know, my sister-in-law is pregnant and craves cheese,” I say absently, recalling my conversation with Blake all those weeks ago, before I went to The Diamond and subsequently reunited with Sidney.
Silence fills the room. I have no clue what to say next. I’m trapped outside of my comfort zone, teetering between running for the door and punching a hole in the wall. I’m not pissed, per se. It’s more anger that someone threw a fucking wrench in my plan. A plan that didn’t involve shitty diapers and late night feedings.
But then I think back to that night I forgot to wear the rubber. It was my own damn fault. She enthralls me with her freckles and her mesmerizing eyes, messes with my mind. And for as much as I want to be the douche and pin this blame on her, I can’t do it. We did this. Together.
“There’s only one thing left to do.” Stunning eyes lock on mine. “You have to take a test.”
“What if it’s positive?” she whispers.
What if it’s positive? Fuck if I know. I’m treading water here, and the water’s rising. “If it’s positive, then we’ll deal with it then.”
The words choke me, and I’m not sure why. I’m not ready to be a father, but I already know that I can’t walk away. Not from my child and not from Sidney. I’m in this, one hundred percent all in, even if it terrifies me.
The unknown isn’t what scares me; it�
�s the fear of failure. When I was with the Bureau, I thought I was invincible. Chasing and catching the bad guys, living my life as if I were on top of the world. Until that fateful day that my brother was shot. Then I knew that life could change in the blink of an eye without you even realizing it.
This is one of those moments.
I’m about to blink and everything’s going to change.
“I don’t know if I can,” she whispers, her eyes filling up with tears.
“What are you afraid of? The test being positive,” I ask, taking her hand in my own. “Or it being negative.”
Tears slip from her eyes as she gazes over at me. “Both.”
Pulling her into my arms, I bury my nose in her hair. “Sid, I’m not going anywhere. Negative or positive, I’m here because I want to be with you. Do you want me to be here with you?” I ask and hold my breath.
“It doesn’t suck having you here,” she sasses.
I laugh. Hard.
“Oh, I believe there’s definitely been some sucking going on here. That’s one of my favorite parts,” I tell her with a big, cocky grin.
After a few moments of smiling at each other with those dopey grins, she finally asks, “What do we do now?”
“We go in that bathroom and take a test. Then we’re going to finish our dinner, and relax with a movie. If I’m lucky, maybe you’ll feel well enough to try some of that sucking you’re so good at.”
Sidney smiles up at me, still perched on my lap. She reaches over and grabs the first box, a brand that I’ve seen advertised on television. Together, we make our way towards the bathroom.
“Can I ask you something?” she asks before breaching the threshold.
“Always.”
“Why aren’t you freaking out? You’re so calm, and after your baby sized freak out a few weeks ago when we had sex without the condom, I guess I just pictured this scene playing out a little differently.”
“You expected me to freak and walk out?” I ask, but I know before she nods her head in confirmation what she was thinking, mainly because I’ve already thought about it too. Exhaling deeply, I continue. “I figured that there’s nothing I can really do about it, you know? Don’t get me wrong, I’m a little scared to find out the answer, but if it’s positive, then we’ll figure out the next step.”
She gazes at me for several drawn out moments, searching my eyes. Whatever she’s looking for she must find it because she eventually nods her head in acceptance. “Do you want to come in?” she asks, hesitantly.
“I will if you want me to. Otherwise, I’ll just wait out here.” She seems slightly relieved that I’m not insisting on going into the bathroom with her.
“I’ll call you in when I’m done.”
“We can wait for the results together.”
I squeeze her hand before she leaves me standing by the doorway, enclosing herself in the bathroom. The seconds drag on; each one feels like an hour between the moment she walked in to take the test and now. My palms are sweaty and my pulse is racing with anticipation. I honestly have no clue if I’m leaning towards a positive or a negative test result, but I know whatever the outcome, we’ll be okay.
Because we’ll figure it out together.
Before I can think too much about the what if’s, Sidney calls me into the bathroom. When I walk in, she’s standing at the sink, brushing her teeth. The test is sitting on the back of the toilet, mocking me with the unknown.
I use the other sink and wash my hands. Not because I necessarily need to, but because I just need something to do with them. Our eyes lock in the mirror as we stand side-by-side and complete the most mundane of tasks. I can’t get over how natural it feels to be standing beside her, watching her brush her teeth as if we’ve done this together for years.
When she’s finished, she places her toothbrush in the holder and turns to face me. Questions reflect in the warmth of her eyes, ones that I’m sure mirror my own. A timer sounds on the cell phone I didn’t notice sitting on the counter. Sidney’s eyes widen as she glances down at the device as if it were a bomb.
And in a way, it is.
Our lives could very well blow up with this little surprise. And I don’t mean blow up in a bad way; I just mean change. Everything we knew or thought before would be different. We would never be the same.
“It’s time,” she says softly. We both glance over at the toilet.
I gently turn her shoulders until she’s facing me and say, “Whatever that test says, I’m here for you, okay? I’m in it for the long haul.”
Tears fill her eyes, and she shakes her head in acknowledgement. Linking her fingers within mine, we turn and face our destiny. Together, we take the five steps until we’re able to look down and see it. The test is complete. Our future is set. Our lives have changed.
Pregnant.
Chapter Fifteen – So Much Sickness
Sidney
I try to be quiet, really. There’s nothing worse than having an audience while you’re praying to the porcelain God at an absurdly early hour in the morning. Have you ever tried to be quiet while upchucking? It seems like the quieter you try to be, the louder you actually retch. Which is why, when the door flies open and Luke runs inside, I’m not surprised.
I just wish I wasn’t dry heaving when it happened.
“Jesus, Sidney,” Luke says as he grabs a washcloth from the cabinet and wets it with cool water.
“Ughhhhhhh,” I groan as I rest my head on the cool porcelain toilet rim, completely ignoring the fact that I am, in fact, resting my head on the toilet rim.
“How long have you been in here?” he asks, setting the cool cloth across my forehead.
“Forever. I’ve been throwing up forever. It’s never going to stop.”
“Ahhh, angel,” he whispers while dropping to his knees beside me. He places a kiss on my wet forehead and gently pushes away the strands of hair plastered to my face. We sit in silence for several minutes; the only sound in the room is a collection of our breathing and heartbeats.
“Are you feeling well enough to get back in bed?” he asks, still running a soothing hand over my head.
“I think so. I don’t feel like I’m going to vomit anymore, but I’m just too exhausted to get up.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, he’s up and moving. Carefully, he picks me up off the floor and walks over to the sink. He cages my body between his and the counter as he loads my toothbrush up with paste, and hands it to me. My arms are weak, but I’m not going back to bed without brushing my teeth, so I power through.
“Done?” he asks when I spit the remaining paste and water out of my mouth.
Unable to say words as exhaustion consumes me, I nod. Again, Luke swoops in and picks me up, carrying me back to bed. The sheets are a tangled mess at the foot of the bed, but I don’t care. I’ve discovered in our weeks together that he’s not only an active sleeper, but a nude one at that. My inner hussy loves that fact.
He spoons me against his chest, the shorts that he must have slipped on to come rescue me from the bathroom floor and his t-shirt that I’m sleeping in the only things between us.
As I rest my head in the crook of his arm, images of last night parade through my mind. After we discovered the pregnancy test to be positive, Luke wrapped his arms around me and didn’t let go. I don’t know if it was for my comfort or his own, but I’m leaning towards a little bit of both.
We had lain atop the comforter, gripping each other’s hands as if we were lost at sea and they were the life raft we each desperately needed. For the longest time, we didn’t speak. We drew on the comfort we found in the mere presence of the other person. Questions peppered my mind in a rapid-fire succession that I couldn’t keep up with. It was exhausting without even saying a word.
Finally, Luke spoke. He reassured me that he would be by my side every step of the way. And he never let go of my hand. It’s as if he could anchor himself to me that maybe we’d both
believe all of his promises or I’d see the beautiful picture he painted in my head.
And it’s not that I don’t believe him. I’m just being realistic. We’re not in love. Even though we both care for each other, I’m not naïve enough to believe that our story will have the fairytale ending. And while I have no way of knowing how exactly our story will end, I just know that, inevitably, it will. They always do.
We ended up falling asleep together, me wearing the shirt that smells like him and him wearing a pair of worn basketball shorts. There was no sex. Neither one of us could ignore the elephant in the room long enough to get turned on. Instead, we supported each other the only way we could. Just by being there.
“I don’t like it when you’re sick,” he whispers against my ear, goose bumps peppering my skin as his warm breath washes over me.
“I’m not particularly fond of it myself,” I quip.
“But I really like you in my shirt.” His words spread hotly through my bloodstream as his hand slides smoothly up my outer thigh. Suddenly, the fact that he caught me throwing up mere minutes ago doesn’t matter in the slightest.
Instead, the feel of his warm hand against my skin ignites a fire deep within my body. Need rushes through my bloodstream, charging full steam ahead and zapping my nerve ends.
His hand slides slowly along my stomach before venturing upward towards my chest. My nipples are already standing at attention, begging to be played with. Skilled fingers gently massage my swollen breasts, tweaking my nipples until they’re so hard, they border on painful.
Suddenly, his hands still. His entire body tenses. “Please,” I beg, needing him in a way I’ve never felt before.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers against my ear, his voice laced with pain and uncertainty.
“You won’t. Please. I need you to touch me, Luke.” My voice is tight and foreign even to my own ears.
He slowly rolls me until I’m lying on my back, while he hovers above me. “I can’t deny you anything. I’ve never been able to deny you,” he says, his eyes holding on to apprehension. He slowly lowers his head and claims my lips with his own.
