Of course I did. The internet says they’ll help settle your stomach without putting strain on the baby. Go take one, sweet boy, and feel better. I’ll be home before long. I love you
I love you, too, Daddy.
For now, it was the best he’d be able to do. The rest would come later, when the last few pieces of his plan fell into place. Until then, Damien needed to work no matter how much he longed to be at home. Matthew, Emily, and the baby were counting on him. With that in mind, he scrolled to the first client on his list and made the call. Change was in the air, but for now all he could do was bide his time and wait for it to manifest.
41
Matthew
A pink anthropomorphic cat danced her way across the screen of Matthew’s tablet. Emily watched, transfixed, while Matthew snuggled her and tried his best not to think of how nauseous he was.
It was a damn good thing he was getting a baby out of this deal. If Dr. Triassi was wrong and all this suffering turned out to be for parasites, he’d be pissed.
The cat on the screen wiggled as it danced and was joined by two other cats, one green, the other blue. Emily wiggled a little, too. Matthew had forgotten the name of the show, but he did remember that it was one of Emily’s favorites. Pregnancy brain. It was December, he was four months pregnant, and he’d been forgetting all kinds of small things lately. It was annoying as hell.
Matthew closed his eyes and let go of his daughter, rolling onto his back as exhaustion plucked at his conscious mind. Where was Damien right now? Work, of course. As tired as he was, he knew that. But was everything there going okay? Since he’d arrived in the city, Matthew had seen the bags under Damien’s eyes and witnessed the tension in his shoulders when he came through the door. Sometimes Damien was able to shrug it off like a jacket, and others Matthew took it from him when Damien joined him in bed, but sex wasn’t always a surefire fix.
Try as Damien might to hide what he was feeling, Matthew saw right through him. His job was eating him alive.
The money wasn’t worth the stress.
Matthew snuggled beneath the blankets as the cheery music from Emily’s show became white noise, lost in his thoughts.
If Damien got one more urgent email in the middle of the night that tore him out of bed, Matthew would throw his phone out the window. It always felt like work was trying to rob him of Damien—to whittle away the few hours they had together until there was nothing left.
Thoughts of the pink cat-creature from Emily’s show floated through Matthew’s mind. He sagged into the blankets, fading fast.
As frustrating as Damien’s work/life balance was, before long the stress would go away. Damien would show them what he was really made of, and then life would be good. They wouldn’t have to worry. Damien’s plan would work, and their lives would change forever.
The cat danced across Matthew’s mind and his sleep-brain determined that he was dancing along with it in victory.
“Daddy.” Emily poked him. Matthew startled awake, but didn’t say a word. When he didn’t speak, Emily poked him again. “Daddy, your phone’s beepy.”
“Beepy?”
“Beep. Beep.” Emily’s imitation was off, but her perception was good. His phone was, indeed, beepy. She pushed the phone into his palm until he wrapped his fingers around it. “I wanna watch my show. Make the phone be quiet.”
“Mm.” Matthew blinked his eyes open and checked his notifications. A couple of new emails were the culprits—one from NYU, and one from the University of Aurora.
Matthew threw the covers back, left the bed, and kissed Emily on top of the head. “I’m gonna go make it quiet. You stay here and watch your show, okay?”
“’Kay.”
Matthew made a hasty escape and locked himself in the bathroom. With trembling hands, he tapped on the letter from NYU.
Congratulations!
I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted for admission to the College of Arts and Science of New York University. It is a particular pleasure to welcome you to the NYU community as an Early Decision candidate.
Matthew squeaked. He folded onto the bathroom floor, limbs at all angles, and read the email a second time to make sure he hadn’t been mistaken.
The content stayed the same.
He’d been accepted.
Head spinning from newfound opportunity, he exited the email and checked on the one from the University of Aurora.
It was an admission letter, too.
