by Sadie Grubor
The next morning, I wake up in Kat's old bedroom, now Serena's spare bedroom. Kat and I had shared the bed, but she was already up and gone.
Climbing out of the bed, I grab my cell and find nine text messages from Chris. Swiping the screen, I begin reading them as I descend the stairs.
Come home.
I miss you.
I love you.
Please, Mia, come home.
I need you.
You mean everything.
Tell Maggie I love her.
Baby, stop ignoring me. It's killing me.
I'll leave you alone, Mia. But know it is fucking killing me to be in this house without you.
"Are we going to talk about what's going on now?" Serena asks, laying a sleeping Zoe into her playpen.
"Where's Maggie?" I ask, sitting on the couch.
"Elliott has her upstairs. They're playing cars with Ryan." She sits down next to me. "So?"
"I don't even know where to start," I groan, settling in next to Kat.
"I already filled her in," Kat says around a spoonful of yogurt.
"Well, that saves us twenty minutes of back story, doesn't it?" Part of me is irked, but the bigger part is glad I don't have to retell the story.
"Don't get pissy. It will upset the baby." Kat puts another spoonful in her mouth.
"You're pregnant?" Elliott stops at the bottom of the stairs, Maggie hanging upside down from his arm. "Well, that explains Chris acting like the Duke of Douches."
Kat snorts.
"Yeah," I sigh out. "He's worried about the birth."
"Because you had to get cut open?" Elliott flips Maggie around, causing her to giggle harder.
"That's part of it. He's afraid I'll die giving birth."
Elliott nods, a contemplative look on his face.
"He realizes C-sections are a common delivery practice, right?" Serena asks. "I mean, yeah, yours was unexpected and considered an emergency, but it wasn't like you were on death's door."
"I know that. You know that. Chris doesn't see it that way."
"Mia," Elliott says, squatting down by the coffee table in front of me. "You know Chris is afraid of losing the people he loves most. That day…" he shakes his head, "it's not easy to watch your brother break down like that. I'm not trying to make this worse, but I am sure he's fucking terrified right now."
"Elliott, you can't honestly stand behind him being irrational?" Serena asks, incensed.
He shrugs and stands, bringing Maggie back up with him.
"All I'm saying, babe, is Chris lived in darkness until your sister burst into his scene. If it were you, and I'd been in his place, I'd have lost my shit a little, too." Shrugging again, he turns around and yells, "Ry, come on, man!"
"I'm coming," he shouts, stomping down the stairs.
"Easy on the steps," Serena scolds.
"Sorry," he blurts, a football under his arm.
"We'll be out in the yard," Elliott says, walking to the door.
I open my mouth to remind him he has Maggie but close it when he grabs her coat and slips it and a hat on her.
"When did Elliott get so insightful?" Kat asks, setting the empty container on the coffee table.
"He's so good with kids," I add. Smiling, I watch as he carries Maggie out the door.
"My man has depth, girls," Serena says.
The sound of Laney greeting Ryan, Maggie, and Elliott alerts us to her arrival. She sweeps into the house, stripping off her knee-length coat.
"You guys didn't start yet, right?" she asks, hanging her coat next to the door.
"Christ, you tell her everything, too?" I raise one brow at Kat.
"Yep," she responds, wearing a large grin.
"Blabbermouth," I taunt.
"At least someone told me," Laney exaggerates.
"Look, I just need to figure my head out and then I can talk it all out with Chris."
"What you need is to take a test," Laney produces two boxes from her oversized bag.
Shaking my head, I say, "No, I'm not late and I don't fucking want a false result."
"You need to just—"
"No," I snap.
"Okay," Laney says, yielding to my refusal.
"What can we do to help you, Mia?" Serena asks, desperation in her voice. "You're supposed to get married next week. We all fly out in a few days to start the wedding week. If you aren't sure about things, then I stand behind you one hundred and fifty percent. You know that, right?"
Her declaration brings tears to my eyes. My big sister is tough and bossy, but she's also got my back no matter what choice I make.
"You offering to be my getaway car?"
"Of course," she says, scooting closer. "I'm returning the same offer you gave me on my wedding day." A small smile curls the right side of her mouth.
Remembering the day of her wedding freak out, I return the smile.
Placing my hand on her leg, I squeeze.
"I want to marry Christopher, but…"
"But what?" Laney asks, sitting on the coffee table in front of me.
"But…" my voice hitches and tears clog my throat, "what if I'm pregnant and he doesn't want anything to do with it?"
"Mia…" Kat croons.
"You know Chris wouldn't do that," Laney reassures.
"You're afraid he won't want to marry you if you're pregnant," Serena states, voicing my fears aloud.
"What if his fear of losing me in childbirth is too much of a risk? Or maybe we just can't work this out and he calls it all off." I shrug, wiping tears from my cheeks.
Kat's head lands on my shoulder, Laney moves to kneel in front of me, her hands taking both of mine into hers, and Serena wipes tears from my face.
"There isn't anything in this world that would stop me from marrying you, Mia." Chris' voice startles all of us.
Sniffing, I pull my hands from Laney and wipe my eyes.
"What are you doing here?" I choke out. "I asked for time to—"
Laney quickly backs away when Chris strides toward me. Taking her place, he pushes between my legs and grabs my face. His eyes burn into mine.
"You're the fucking world to me and nothing will ever change that. You got me?"
Reaching up, I wrap my hands around his wrists.
"Until you—"
"There is no until," he snaps. "Fuck, Mia, my soul would disintegrate without you."
He releases my face and drops his head into my lap. Snaking his arms around my waist, he mumbles against my legs, "Don't you get it? I don't fucking deserve you."
Placing a hand on his head, I close my eyes. "If I'm pregnant, I can't live like this, stressing about how you don't want the baby."
Raising his head from my lap, his eyes meet mine.
"It's not about wanting our baby," he states, brow furrowed. "It's about me killing the people I love the most." He cups my face once more. "I can't be the one that kills you, too."
My eyes widen and mouth drops open.
There it is. Christopher's fear is not just me dying in childbirth, but him being the reason I die.
"Chris, you wouldn't—"
"It's me who got you pregnant the first time, and I almost lost you. Now, I get you pregnant again. I'm fucking tempting fate. It will take you away from me and it will be because I got you pregnant again."
He drops his head, his hands sliding from my face to either side of my neck. Bringing my hands up, I cup his face, making him look at me.
"You didn't kill anyone, Christopher." The sob breaks free from my chest.
He still blames himself for the death of his mother. He blames himself for what he thinks was my almost death during Maggie's birth. And now he's afraid he's testing fate once more.
"You have no idea what it's like to feel this pain, the guilt, for being the reason someone dies or almost dies," he says, a tear tracing his defined cheekbone. "If I'm the catalyst for your death, I won't survive the loss."
"Chris, you aren't losing me," I reassure.
He
tries to pull away, but I hold fast.
"Christopher, look at me," I order.
His eyes snap back to mine.
"You. Aren't. Losing. Me."
"Jack's right," he whispers, our eyes still locked.
"Jack?"
"You're so much fucking stronger than me."
His mouth crashes into mine and our tongues meet, the metal ball of his piercing sliding over mine. His body presses over and into mine.
"You cum stain that couch, you're buying me a new one," Elliott states.
"Elliott!" Serena scolds, motioning to Ryan and Maggie at his side.
Chris and I break apart, taking in the red-rimmed eyes of my best friends and the annoyed look on Elliott's face.
"Daddy," Maggie squeals, rushing toward Chris.
"What if I'm pregnant?" I whisper.
Chris pulls Maggie into his arms and looks back to me.
"We'll figure it out," he says. "And I'll work my shit out with the doc."
"I love you."
"Love you more, angel," he responds.
Chapter Eight
Christopher
The night Mia came back home with me, I kept her in bed until ten the next morning, worshipping every inch of her skin with my mouth and hands. I thought if I showed her how much I love her we could get past things faster, but the minute we were out of the bedroom, I felt her withdrawal.
"Tomorrow, you and Mia leave for the island, right?" Dr. J sits across from me in my home studio, having agreed to meet with me before our departure.
I nod, rubbing my forehead and staring at nothing.
"What's on your mind, Chris?"
Lifting my head, I straighten my spine and ask the question that’s been swirling around in my head.
"Why wouldn't I tell her I missed the appointment?"
For days, I've been thinking about the situation. Starting the day I drove home alone from Nic and Gwen's when I realized my fear isn't just losing her, but being the person who causes the loss. Fate fucking hates me and putting Mia back in its hands is not something I'm eager to do.
"Maybe you were afraid she'd get upset?"
Leveling a look on him, I purse my lips.
"You damn well know that isn't it."
He shrugs.
"Then, you tell me." He raises one hand in invitation.
I rub a hand over my face, close my eyes, and suck my bottom lip into my mouth. Releasing the lip, but keeping my eyes closed, I confess, "Deep down, I think Mia wants more kids. I think she's only giving the option up because of me."
I pause, praying Dr. J will start talking. When he doesn't, I continue.
"I'm always fucking taking things." Shaking my head, I open my eyes and focus on his appraising eyes. "What the hell do I ever give her, doc?"
"Only Mia can answer that for you," he finally speaks.
"I didn't tell her about the vasectomy because I was afraid she'd change her mind and demand another baby."
Dr. J opens his mouth, but I hurry to finish.
"But, I'm also so afraid to take something else from her. She could resent me for taking away the option of more kids."
He closes his mouth and laces his fingers together in front of him. Dipping his head, he presses his lips to them for just moment before dropping his hands into his lap.
"You've done a lot of soul-searching." He gives me a thin smile and nods. "Your fears are valid, Chris, and they are so very normal."
"Normal?" I scoff. "I'm anything but fucking normal."
He chuckles quietly.
"The fears won't be resolved unless you talk to Mia about them. I can offer you advice, but I can't give you the answers you seek. I'm not Mia."
"Thank fucking God," I blurt. "No offense, but you aren't my type."
"You aren't mine either," he replies.
My chest shakes with laughter. Taking a deep breath, I drop my head to the back of the chair.
"And what happens if Mia is currently pregnant?" he asks.
"The more I think about it, the more I want to throw up," I admit. "I can't help it. I'm fucking terrified."
"I'm not an OB/GYN, but I think it's safe to say Mia will be monitored regularly, given the previous delivery circumstances."
"What does that even mean?" I lift my head and focus on him.
"It means, when a woman has a second child, the doctors review the previous delivery records and notes. It means, you can both express any fears or concerns and the doctors and nurses will address them."
"And I'll look like a fucking idiot, right?"
"Since when do you care what other people think?" he counters.
"You have a point."
"They're professionals, Christopher, and if they don't respond to your concerns, you get a new doctor."
Unlike the times before, thinking on my own and talking with Dr. J, this actually settles the riot of knots in my stomach.
"To be honest, while I get your reservations about childbirth, I'm also a bit surprised you aren't forcing her to have a ton of kids."
"Why?" The question slips out before I even think about it.
"You've always seemed like the type who would…how shall I say this? Lock her down with kid after kid so she's stuck with you for the rest of their lives."
"Huh," is my only response.
"Christ, I just gave you the idea, didn't I?"
My grin is met by a look of exasperation and a shake of his head.
Entering our bedroom, Mia flits around the space with the grace of a dancer. The magazines, reporters, and the label can boast her rock goddess persona all they want—when she twists, walks, turns, and pushes onto her toes, tossing clothes into our luggage, I see the grace, balance, and beauty in each movement.
"Mia?"
Her body starts and turns to me. When her surprise-filled eyes meet mine, she asks, "Do you have everything packed?" She motions to the open bags lined on the floor.
I nod, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Baby, talk to me."
"About?" she asks, scanning each piece of luggage.
"Can we start with how withdrawn you are?" I ask, getting straight to the point. Why beat around the bush?
She snaps her head back to me and gives a weak shrug.
"I'm fine, really. There's just a lot to do before tomorrow."
"Bullshit. You and I both know it has nothing to do with the trip or the wedding." Leaning forward, I put my elbows on my knees. "Unless you're not sure about the wedding?"
Her dark chocolate eyes widen.
"Of course I'm sure…are you?" she asks, the question almost a whisper.
"Fuck, Mia, how…of course, I'm sure. Why would you think any different?"
"I don't know," she growls, walking to the bed and sitting next to me.
"Is this about the baby?" I can't look away from the floor.
"Partially," she admits.
In one swift motion, I sit up and wrap her in my arms.
"Mia, we'll work through my bullshit, okay? I promise."
She sighs, pulling from my embrace. Rejection lances my chest before she places one hand to my cheek.
"My period started," she says, her voice low, wavering.
I part my lips, unsure of what I plan to say, but Mia beats me to it.
"You don't have to say anything." The hard swallow following the words tears into my heart.
"Are you sure?"
What the fuck? Of course she's sure.
She nods. "Yeah. It's…you don't want the details, but I'm sure it's starting."
What does starting mean? Instead of asking the question, I pull her back in my arms and whisper into her hair, "I'm sorry, baby."
When she relaxes into me and slips her arms around my middle, I hold her tighter.
"At least you don't have to worry anymore."
Each word stabs into my chest.
"Baby, I—"
"Can we just forget about it?" She pulls out of our embrace, stands, and goes back to packing.
/>
"Mia, I didn't—"
"Chris, please," she begs, closing her eyes. "It's okay, but I don't want to talk about it anymore." Her eyelids flutter open and she pierces me with her dark eyes. "Okay?"
"Yeah," I agree, like a coward.
Because how do I tell her, after the way I've behaved, how much her sadness guts me? How I really meant what I said about working my shit out? And, worst of all, how do I tell her it fucking hurts to know she's not pregnant? I didn't expect that shit, but it's there. I've been so afraid of losing Mia, I didn't even consider feeling the loss of a baby that wasn't there.
Fucking fate or karma? I don't know, but fuck them both.
Pushing up from the bed, I leave Mia to her distractions.
The sound of Maggie's laugh draws me to her room. Her smile usually fills up the dark parts of me with fucking sunshine and fireflies, but right now…right now, it reminds me of another giggle that will never be.
Pushing her door open, I find my baby girl playing with our nanny's daughter, Carmen.
"Hey, Mr. Mason," she greets, seeing me standing in the doorway.
"Daddy!" Maggie exclaims, clapping.
Daddy. The title fills my heart to bursting, but also turns my stomach. I've been such an asshole, an idiot.
"Play?" Maggie asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Of course."
Stepping out of the doorway, I take a seat on the floor next to my baby girl. The one thought I can't get out of my mind is how great of a big sister Maggie would be.
The next morning is a flurry of bags, bodies, and phone calls.
Giana gets Maggie ready for the airport, a driver and his assistant help load our luggage, and Mia is on her fifth phone call to Kara, going over details about her dress, my suit, the groomsmen and bridesmaid items, along with some cake designer being flown to the island. Apparently, Harlow Cakes is a big deal in wedding cakes, not that I know a damn thing about them. The name of the cake place fucking rocks, though.
I lean against the kitchen counter and listen to Mia on her phone, standing by for further orders. I'd already been called upon to double check my bags, carry them to the front door, and run up and down the stairs three times for random things.
I'm thankful now that I couldn't sleep last night, which had me up super early and able to call Dr. J. Not wanting to upset Mia with the unexpected feelings about everything, I used the doctor to work through them. He'd been as shrinky as ever, but at the end of the call, my mind and heart were finally in the right fucking place.
