I held my tears off for as long as possible, but ultimately, they fell, and once they started, they wouldn’t stop.
Alison understood. She explained that she was the same when she was pregnant with Everett. She also told me that she was completely different with Parker, and that’s why she’s already convinced we’re having a boy.
It hit me in that moment that we could find out next week at our next ultrasound.
I’m torn, though. There’s so much excitement about not knowing. About waiting until the very last moment to discover if you’re going to be a boy mom or girl mom. But also, how much fun will it be, planning and shopping for blue or pink?
It’s something Everett and I really need to make a decision about.
We spent almost an hour on the video call, and before we hung up, Alison and I exchanged numbers. I didn’t dive into my family situation with them; that’s a conversation for another time, but I think she may have suspected that I needed someone.
Sure, I have Sienna and the rest of the girls, but none of them have been pregnant or had a baby. They can be there for me with this, but none of them have any answers or can tell me about their experiences in a way a mom can.
My stomach flutters with excitement that I could get that from Alison. It would certainly make the next few months a little easier, even more so once our little one is here. I’m not sure if I’ve ever even held a newborn baby, let alone done any of the other things I’ll be expected to do once they arrive.
Fear of what’s to come rocks through me as I stand looking at the pile of clothes I’ve thrown onto the bed.
Nothing fits.
My tunics barely zip. My jeans are hopeless, and almost every outfit I brought here, thinking it might last a little longer, is too tight.
Tears burn my eyes as I stare at some of my favorite items. Some I’ve had for years; others are more recent finds. Many of them came from the thrift shop a little down the street from the salon. But it doesn’t matter if they cost me hundreds of bucks or just a few; all of them are unwearable.
There is one last option hanging in the closet. It’s the dress Sienna brought me to wear for my first, hell, my first and only date with Everett.
I don’t know why we haven’t been out again. Up until a second go, it wasn’t something I’d ever considered. But now, standing here, the thought of him choosing not to take me out again has pain cutting through my chest.
I loved our first date. But maybe I’m the only one who did. Or did our getting photographed scare him off for a second?
I know this is all a lot. Fucking hell, I’m living through it all just as much as he is. But I’m not the one in the spotlight, the man everyone expects to be with a different woman every night, not getting comfortable with one and starting a family.
What if he changes his mind before we make this public?
My heart starts to race as my fears really take hold.
Trying to push them aside, I tug the dress from the hanger and pull it on.
But…
The wail that rips from my throat when the zipper doesn’t even come close is utterly ridiculous. I’m aware of this, but at the same time, I’m unable to stop it.
I collapse on the bed and curl up on top of all the clothes I can no longer wear.
Linc and Parker’s engagement party is only days away, and I don’t have a bra that fits properly, let alone a dress worthy of the kind of event they’re going to throw.
The only good thing about my breakdown is that I’m in the apartment alone.
I let myself have my moment before I push myself to sit up, wipe my eyes, and look around at the discarded clothes.
“ARGH,” I scream, my curled fists slamming against the mattress on either side of me. And it’s in that exact moment that Everett appears in my doorway.
My breath catches as embarrassment burns my cheeks before blooming across the rest of me.
His brows pinch as he takes in the war zone that is his guestroom before his eyes finally land on me.
Unable to hold them, I drop my gaze to my lap.
“What’s going on?” he asks, confused.
