I feel my own lips curl into a smile, one that has nothing to do with kindness. I’ve been biting my tongue for Matthew’s sake, trying to be the bigger person, the mature one. But screw that.
“Neither am I,” I say evenly, meeting her gaze without blinking.
The door swings open again and Matthew steps back in, pushing a wheelchair, an older nurse trailing behind him.
“Everything okay in here?” he asks, glancing between us.
“Peachy,” I say, keeping my eyes locked on Chloe as the word drips with sugar-coated sarcasm.
She doesn’t flinch. Neither do I.
Game on, bitch.
Matthew
Ma drives us home in her Tesla. I know how to drive, but owning a car in New York just feels like a hassle, the parking fees alone are enough to make me break out in hives. I guess that’s another expense we’ll have to think about now, with a baby on the way.
Brooke’s in the backseat. I offered her the front, but she said she wanted the space to fold her legs. I reach my hand back between the driver’s seat and mine, and a moment later I feel warm fingers slip into mine. I smile.
“So,” Ma says, eyes on the road. “How’s work?”
“It’s fine,” I answer.
Brooke gives my hand a gentle squeeze before slipping hers away, and I straighten in my seat.
“Who proposed to who?” Ma asks suddenly.
I shrug. “I think I did. Right, babe?” I glance back at her.
“You asked the question,” she says, smirking. “I laid the groundwork.”
I laugh, the memory bubbling up easily.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ma asks.
“Well,” I start, “we had our first prenatal appointment, and the receptionist asked if we wanted to use it then. Brooke wasconfused and asked what the hell she meant and that’s when we found out her insurance only covers a certain number of appointments.”
“Like insurance companies should decide anything about a woman’s health,” Brooke mutters from the back seat.
“I agree,” I say. “Anyway, my wife” I can’t help smiling as I say the word, “yelled at the insurance company. And while she was busy making spreadsheets about how much we’d have to pay out of pocket, I just said, ‘Or… we could get married.’”
I glance back at her again. “I knew my insurance covers prenatal care for a spouse; it’s just a matter of using doctors approved by them.”
“They reallygave the mangood prenatal care,” Brooke teases.
I grin, looking back between the seats. “I’m just happy it got you to marry me.”
She smiles cheekily. “I might’ve married you without it.”
“Ah,” I say, grinning.
“Ah,” she echoes.
Ma hums thoughtfully. “So, it’s a marriage of convenience.”
I frown, confused. “No… it’s a marriage of love that just happened to be expedited because of-”
“-convenience,” Brooke finishes for me.
