by Kira Graham
If it’s not some sick, unnecessary, and weird fact that I’ve read in the hundreds of books that Ma has gotten for me, it’s watching Alex walk around doing things that are not safe. Like changing light bulbs while a laughing Nate stands beneath her, his arms outstretched and ready to grab her midair if she falls.
Christ!
“Makes sense. Cleo has been reading some birth books—which, by the way, basically means that I will never have children of my own,” he grumbles good-naturedly. “Babies need to have fully developed lungs or something before they’re born. We’re all worried about that.”
As if I’m not. I regularly wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and thinking about birth plans and natural shit that I don’t agree with. Who wouldn’t want to be drugged before shoving a kid the size of a watermelon out through a tiny hole that strangles a cock?
“She’s doing okay, and with her doctor practically stalking her, we should be fine,” I snort, thinking of Doctor Payne and her daily calls.
Christ, if I were ever to choose a doctor—if I were a girl with a vagina, that is—I’d steer clear of anyone named Payne. Especially seeing as how her specialty would be centered around the health of my genitals. Alex, of course, thinks it’s as funny as hell and has some weird, convoluted theory about how this is probably the gentlest doctor on Earth, just because she’s named Payne.
I don’t think pregnant women’s brains work right. I’m just saying.
“Should be. So, how goes impending fatherhood? I notice you’re not displaying the ultrasound pics,” Adonis says pointedly, those gray eyes narrowing knowingly, as if he knows that my head isn’t where it should be.
And honestly, it isn’t. I go up and down on all of this. Some days, I wake up excited and raring to go, and then others, I wake up terrified, on edge and wanting to forget for just a few hours that everything is so…fucked up. Not that I am not loving being with Alex, and not that I don’t love my babies. But it all feels so unreal, ya know? Like a story that has no ending yet.
“Alex says it’s bad luck,” I tell him, using the easiest excuse available because it’s better than admitting that I’m terrified to make it real by telling everyone.
Adonis snorts and chuckles affectionately, shaking his head at the absurdity that is the Sweet way of thinking. For such a smart group, those women sure are unhinged. Rosetta wears a pair of ugly old shoes the first time she starts any new case because “they’re lucky,” and Cleo believes that sprinkling a few grains of salt across the doorways wards off evil spirits. Nuts.
“Yeah, well, bad luck or not, Honey’s social media is full of them. As is Jack’s. So, tell me, now that Baloo is asleep and sawing logs, and we’re alone, what do you intend to do with that ring?”
“Obviously, I’m going to use it,” I snort, my scowl returning when Adonis gives me a smug, knowing look.
“Really? When? Or is this like that time you bought your first Rolex and kept it in the box for six months because you didn’t want to choose just one brand right off the bat? If memory serves, that watch is still in your closet, untouched.”
“It’s worth a lot of money, and it’s sentimental!” I defend myself, leaving out the part about the panic that I still feel when looking at that watch.
I can’t explain it, but ever since I was in my teens, I’ve had this…problem with choosing just one thing to settle on. My mom says that it’s my free spirit rebelling against the confines of society’s conformity. I think that it’s just that I didn’t want to wear a watch that I loved so much and get it dinged up. And, in a way, I think that’s what I feel about Alex. I love her, obviously, or I wouldn’t be with her, but the whole forever thing…
It scares the hell out of me.
“And it’s going unused and forgotten,” Adonis points out. “Don’t make your relationship like that watch, Achilles. You’re stalling out here, the same way you did after you bought that thing, and I can almost predict where you’re going with that ring. You have it now, so in your mind, it’s a done deal, but what you don’t understand is that unless you put it on and wear it, it’s just a piece of jewelry,” he says softly, his big brother voice coming out in full effect.
He’s always used that voice with me. That time I was eight, and I made the chess team but stalled out once I got to the championship. The time I made quarterback but couldn’t step out onto the field for the semis. He’s always been there when I needed him, but, unlike all those other times when I was young, this isn’t just a game that I am so desperate to win that I lose my mind. This is life—and the rest of my life, if I’m looking at it realistically. If I take out this ring, then it’s done. Decision made. I tell him that, losing the defensive avoidance that I usually employ when I’m backed into a corner.
Adonis smiles, almost kindly, and shakes his head at me.
“Bro, you already bought the ring. That tells me that, deep down, you want to make this move. What’s the worst that can happen if you give it to Alex?”
“She could say no, which is possible, considering the Sweets and their penchant for swimming against the tide. She could say yes, and we could get married and then divorced,” I point out, shuddering just thinking about the word.
Been there! We’ve been there, my brain screams, the return of old memories trying to rise up and bite me in the ass.
“This isn’t like that,” he says softly, his mouth thinning. “That wasn’t even marriage, Achilles; it was a con job. Technically, you didn’t even get married, so it doesn’t count.”
“Doesn’t it? Raquel sure did seem to think so,” I say bitterly, my chest going tight at the mere mention of that name.
“Well, Raquel would have, since she planned it all and then got her ass caught. You were nineteen, Chilli. Young, naïve, and too inexperienced to know what was happening to you.”
“You did,” I point out, hating that I was once that stupid. “You saw it and fixed it before it could even become a thing. Hell, you and Zeus are the only ones who know about that, and you never speak about it.”
“Because in my head, it wasn’t a thing, Chilli. And in reality, it wasn’t, either. You almost got married, almost fell into that gold digger’s trap, but really, if you think about it all, it was nothing. Here one day, gone the next. You need to get over that shit and move on. You were a young kid, impressionable and good. You thought that doing the right thing was the right thing.”
“And it turned out that it was wrong. See, Adonis? I don’t have good judgment,” I tell him, pressing my thumb against the ache that has settled behind my right eyeball. “I shouldn’t be relied upon to make these kinds of choices.”
“Well, then, I hate to break it to you, Chilli, but you’re screwed. This choice, this whole parenthood thing, isn’t some fly-by-night operation that you can choose to accept or not. Even if you and Alex don’t get married, you are a dad, man. You don’t get to choose whether or not you take that watch out of the drawer and wear it, Chilli. That watch is already strapped to your wrist, man. So what’s the difference, really? You’re already committed to Alex, whether you’re a couple or not.”
“Yeah, but I want to be a dad!” I yell, my words giving way to silence as I think about what I just said.
I can see that Adonis got it, because his head rears back abruptly before his face goes hard, and he gets that look I recognize, the one that tells me that he isn’t happy with me.
“Just not a husband.”
“That didn’t come out right,” I mutter, blowing out a hard breath, especially when I see Zeus move and sit up, his eyes as hard as Addy’s even as he scrubs the sleep from them.
“Well, why don’t you tell us exactly how you meant it, then, because to me it sounded like you just said that it’s okay for Alex to be the mother of your children, but not your wife,” my younger brother says quietly, the disappointment and anger in his voice turning my nuts to shriveled grapes.
Of all my brothers, Z is the one that I try the hardest t
o avoid pissing off. He’s quiet and contemplative and never pushes himself into anything unless he wants to, which usually means that I don’t have to deal with his silent judgment, but when it comes to family, he is the one that I fear the most. He’s like Rosetta. Silent. Deadly. And frightening in his unexpected moves.
“That’s not it at all. I just meant that committing to one another for the rest of our lives isn’t necessary. We’re happy just like we are.”
“I’ve heard that before, Achilles,” Adonis tells me, his eyes going dull as a sigh leaves him. “You know what the problem with that statement is? The person saying it usually doesn’t consider that their feelings aren’t necessarily the same as the feelings of the other half of the relationship. Cleo says that shit all the time, and while I love her enough to play along and laugh at her antics, I have to say that sometimes it doesn’t feel good when the person you love just takes your feelings for granted. Regardless, though, I’ll wait for Cleo, or, as the case may be, I’ll work with her issues and make plans to give her a shove in my direction. The difference here is that I have the time. Cleo and I aren’t having children yet; we’re still in relationship mode as far as our timeline is concerned, and I don’t have to think about anything other than her. And me. You don’t have that luxury, brother. It’s all or nothing when it comes to love and family, so if you aren’t willing to give your all to Alex, then you need to step back and make that clear. It isn’t fair to her if you’re leading her on—”
“But I’m not! We talked about marriage once, and she made it clear that she isn’t at all interested in it,” I tell them, knowing the lie for what it is—an excuse.
Even a deaf man would have heard the angry hurt in her voice when she told me to go to hell and shove my ring up my ass.
“Why would she want to marry a man who makes it clear that he isn’t interested in marriage?” Zeus hisses, his eyes going harder. “Who would want to hear just how unhappy the thought of being committed to them makes that person? Alex is a proud woman, Chilli. She wouldn’t want you to propose to her out of some sense of obligation, and she wouldn’t want you to be unhappy. Right now, she’s living in denial with you, but sooner or later, that rose-tinted denial will fade, because it always does. And when that happens, she’ll make the right decisions, not only for those babies, but for herself, too. Do you want to be the weekend dad who picks his kids up for a few hours before giving them back to their mom? What about when she decides that she doesn’t want to be alone anymore, huh?” he asks, planting an image in my head that causes anger and denial to surge through me.
Alex with some other dick, the two of them raising my kids? Hell fucking no!
“That will never happen.”
“Why not, man? Why wouldn’t she have the right to decide that she wants something more, even if that means letting you go and finding it with another man? She has the right to want happiness, Chilli,” Adonis tells me sternly, almost as if he’s accusing me of not wanting her to have it.
“We are happy. Christ, I just told you that we’re happy as we are.”
“And maybe that is true. But what if this happiness is only on your side? Of course you’d be happy like this—you’re getting the best of both worlds here! You’re in a relationship that has zero strings attached to it. Alex is yours, you get to come and fucking go as you please, and you don’t have to make one shred of effort otherwise. Answer me this, brother—when was the last time you took Alex out on a date? Have you even done that yet? Have you considered living arrangements for after the babies are born? Who will wake up with your kids at midnight to change their diapers? Who will hold Alex up in the shower two days after she’s had the babies and is so tired that she can barely stand? Those are real questions about real-life scenarios that you can’t answer, because the truth is, you won’t let yourself think that far,” Adonis mutters.
“I will be there.”
“How? Why? When? Where?” Zeus interjects, his tone vicious. “You have four months, Chilli. If you’re lucky. Multiples don’t always gestate to full term. If you get those four months, you’ll be a lucky man, but even if that happens, why would she not start to wonder and want to change things? She’s going to be a mom, and she has to be a good one, Chill. That means that she needs to think about practical shit, and, as I see it—and I am sorry to have to say this—being your almost-girlfriend isn’t going to cut it.”
“She isn’t my almost-girlfriend, goddammit. We are together. That is more than I can say for any other relationship that I’ve ever had,” I seethe, frustrated because I can’t argue with what they’re saying.
Those very same thoughts are what got me to the jeweler’s in the first place, and they’re what made me buy the ring instead of letting the fear drive me away from the store as soon as it struck. Why can’t that just be enough?
“It is, in a way, I guess,” Adonis answers, making me aware that I was talking out loud. “But why should it be? You’re looking at this as something that she should be happy—even grateful—about, but bro, that just isn’t true. Alex is a good woman who deserves a guy who sees her and thinks that she’s the catch! If you aren’t that guy, if you’re looking at this situation and thinking that your efforts are some kind of victory for her, then you owe it to her to let her go and allow her to eventually find someone who will see her as more than an obligation.”
“So which is it? Dammit! You sit here and tell me that I should take the plunge, and that I owe it to her to be responsible, and then you say to let her go,” I rage, my emotions too out of whack for me to think clearly.
Adonis sighs, exchanging a look with Zeus as they both rise to their feet.
“I’m saying that getting married is the best thing that you can do for the both of you, but only if you can see yourself giving her what she deserves. If not…” he says, then shrugs and sighs, turning on his heel to leave.
“If not…?” I ask Zeus, knowing that he’ll give me that hard answer that he’s so famous for.
“You know the answer to that, brother. You’re just too fucking selfish to admit it.”
Chapter Twelve
Alex
“Stop moping,” Rosetta mutters, her eyes severely critical as she surveys my body and takes in the dress that I’m wearing.
“I look like a freaking whale,” I groan, letting my eyes drift down to my stomach, and then to the grossly swollen stumps that used to be ankles, once upon a time when I was still human.
I don’t know how women do this and still manage to retain their will to live, because I have got to be completely honest—I am not feeling that glowing, magical thing that some of the books keep talking about. My body is huge, my ankles are waterlogged to the point of being grotesque, and I feel as if my vagina has swollen up to three sizes larger than normal. I can’t even wear pants anymore, because my mound looks so wrong that Cleo actually asked me if I had grown a set of nuts.
“You look pregnant, Alex,” Rosetta says with an eye roll, her mouth twitching when I mutter and toe the carpet in the dressing room.
“I look hideous.”
Which is making me miserable, and definitely giving me a lot of answers as to why in the last month, Chilli seems to have pulled away from me. I can’t say that it’s physical, because he still doesn’t keep his hands to himself, thank God, but the rest is—
“Oh, shut the hell up and stop crying. Men are idiots who are ruled by sex. Get over it. Spin,” she mutters, motioning for me to twirl around.
I obey, but only because she scares me, and I can’t run as fast as I once could, what with the barrel of bloat strapped to my middle.
“I don’t want to get over it! I want to talk about my feelings and get more than the ‘you’re a sappy bag of emotional grossness’ speech that you always give me. This is why I wanted Sin to come shopping with me. Or Cleo. They aren’t as mean as you are.”
“No, what they are is liars if they don’t tell you just how weird your emotional overload has become. Who
starts crying when they see skinny jeans?” she yells, throwing her hands up when I sniffle.
“I can’t help it! It just happens, and—and I cried because I have those same jeans!” I scream, looking down at the fucking tent that I’ve had to resort to wearing.
Everything in my closet is large and airy now, and let me just say that it doesn’t feel great when you have to accept these kinds of changes.
“Had. You had those same jeans. Before you threw a tantrum and insisted that you could still fit into them!” she croaks, laughing so hysterically that I have the urge to murder her. Brutally.
“They would have fit if you’d just pulled the zipper up when I told you to!”
“Alex, honey, the side seams of the legs split open before I could get my hand on that zipper. And the ass ripped when you bent over to wiggle them higher!” she screams with laughter, enjoying my pain way too much for my liking.
Okay, so technically, that is true. When I tried to put the jeans on, they may have been a little snug. Nate says that the manufacturers must have sold me a defective pair of pants. And that’s the story we’re sticking with. If Rosetta would just be kind enough to freaking go along with it. Unfortunately, she isn’t, and probably never will be. The bitch.
“Shut up. This isn’t helping with my mood.”
“No, what isn’t helping with your mood is the fact that you’ve only been seeing Chilli four times a week ever since he started flying out to Utah to oversee the construction of the spa,” she points out knowingly.
It’s true. I’ve been a little on the darker side of moodiness ever since Chilli told me that he wouldn’t be around all that often over the next three months. I mean, I know that it’s his job, and that this spa was his baby for months before I found out I was pregnant, so it’s not as if he’s just using it as an excuse to get away from me.
