“I can walk.” She laughs but doesn't protest.
“I know you can walk, but you don’t have to. You’ve been wearing these heels all day. It’s much safer if I carry you up the stairs.” I take them one by one, feeling her breath against mine, and taking in every detail of her face. She looks so content and happy like a real-life bride should, I wish so badly that she’d trust me with her future.
“My room’s across the hall,” she reminds me when I step into my room and set her down on my bed.
“What if that's not your room anymore? We are husband and wife now.” I take her hand and twist the ring on her finger thatproves it, and instead of smiling like I expect her to, she hangs her head.
“I don’t think that's a good idea.” She twiddles her fingers, and knowing what that means, I quickly take them in mine.
“Why not? Gracie, you're carrying my child, I want you close to me... Even while you sleep.” I hate that our time together is on a clock; I feel as if I need to make the most of every second we have.
“Because none of this is real, this baby isn’t ours. It’s yours.” She strokes her hand over her stomach and takes a long, deep breath. “I’m just the vessel you’re using to get it here. Once it’s born, I’m leaving. My plans aren’t gonna change. They can’t change, even if I wanted them to.”
“And do you want them too?” I ask, terrified of her answer.
“No.” She takes her time to answer, but looks me dead in the eye when she does. “This is an arrangement, Jack. I’ll wear your ring, I’ll carry your child, but I won’t sleep beside you.”
“You’ve slept in here plenty of times before. What's changed?” I try not to sound mad or upset, but this is not how I envisioned our night ending.
“We were trying to get me pregnant, and it worked. We don’t need to do that anymore. Now all we have to do is tolerate living with each other until your baby gets here. I think we can both manage that.” She stands up like she’s going to leave, but I block her.
“Gracie, don’t do this. Don’t blank me out; this has gone beyond an arrangement for both of us. I’m falling in lo?—”
“Don’t!” She presses her finger to my lips. “This is exactly why we need to stop; we’re going to get hurt.” She smiles with tears in her eyes before she walks away, and this time I let her, because she’s right.
I hear her gagging and retching from the hallway and burst into her room, storming into her bathroom and gathering up her hair.
“I’m fine, honestly.” She waves her hand for me to leave her, but I won’t. I know being sick is perfectly normal. I know she wants her space, but I won’t have her suffer it alone.
“You don’t look fine.” I grab the glass from the basin and fill it with water before handing it to her, then suddenly have a thought. “Shit, should you be drinking that?” I quickly snatch it back off her as she’s mid gulp.
“Jack, it’s water.” She stares at the glass as she catches the dribbles from her chin.
“Yeah, and it’s from the tap; you’re always hearing about the shit they put in tap water, not to mention the fact that the pipes in this house are ancient. I’ll get you some bottled.” I start rushing for the door, and the sound of her laughing makes me stop.
“What?” I stop and turn around.
“Nothing.” She leans on the toilet seat and rises back onto her feet “Just seeing Mr. Calm and Collected acting all frantic is kinda funny.” She shrugs, taking her toothbrush, and starts to clean her teeth. “I’m starting to think this might be fun.”
I take a calming breath and laugh at myself. I guess I am being a little erratic, but I’m totally right about the tap water thing. I won’t have her drink it anymore.
“You wait until I have to get you to the hospital, you’ll be the one telling me to breathe.” I hand her a towel so she can dry her mouth, and when she turns white, I prepare to hold her hair back again.
“We won’t be going to any hospitals.” She shakes her head and steps past me into her room, pacing the floor like she’s going into some sort of panic.
“Where else do you think you're going to deliver ou—my baby?” I correct myself to spare myself the hurt of her doing it.
“Not in a damn hospital. I don’t do them, Jack.” She shakes her head and gets all teary. “People have home births all the time. I can just give birth here.” She looks at her bed as if it's a fucking option.
“Here?” I check I’m hearing her right. “Gracie, a hospital is the safest place; they have everything there in case something goes wrong, and the drugs.”
“I don’t care about the drugs, I’ll do it without them. I’m not going to a hospital.” She stands firm.
“Why?” I step closer because whatever the reason is has her shaking.
“Why, doesn't matter. I’m giving you plenty of time to get your head around this. I’m having this baby here. No questions, no trying to change my mind or going all alpha control freak on my ass… that's the way it has to be.” She starts to cry, and I instantly wrap my arms around her, hoping it will comfort her.
“Hey, hey, relax, it’s okay. Don’t get upset.”
