“What’s wrong?” I start emptying the next bag.
“Just regular pregnancy things,” she deflects. “What is all this?”
“Do me a favor, since I don’t know what regular pregnancy things are, just tell me what’s wrong.”
“I woke up and started throwing up,” she says softly, “and it didn’t stop for a while.” My breath hitches. “I’m fine now, I think. I took some electrolytes to help me not dehydrate.”
“Did you call the doctor?” I wonder if we should maybe go to the emergency room.
“I did, and I have to go and see them tomorrow.” She hesitates. “The appointment is at eight in the morning. It’s the earliest I could get, and it’ll give me a chance to relax before I have to go in for my shift.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven, and then we can go have breakfast before.”
“You don’t need to do that.” Her voice is soft.
“I got you a burger.” I point to the brown bag that now has grease stains forming at the base. “But now I don’t think you should eat it.”
“What’s in the red bag?”
“Oh.” I start digging through that bag. “I stopped by the pharmacy and got you a couple of things. But I don’t know if I have anything in here that will help with your vomiting.”
She frowns. “Did you tell anyone?” I shake my head. She holds on to the back of the chair as her head hangs.
“I just got all the things.”
“Good, that’s good.”
“Do you want to try to eat? You can sit, and I can maybe make you something. I went to the grocery store and picked up a couple of things for you.”
“A couple of things?” Her eyebrows go up. “I count about ten bags.”
“Okay, maybe more than a couple.” I laugh nervously. This morning, when I opened her fridge to make her breakfast, I noticed it wasn’t as full as I thought it should be. Her freezer was even more dire. Sure, she works a lot, but she should still have food in her fridge in case she wants to eat something.
“You bought me groceries,” she almost whispers, her eyes moving from one bag to the other.
“Just some fresh fruit and . . . a bit of pretty much everything really.” I shrug. “I mean, I also bought them for the baby,” I add, finding a bag of frozen veggies. “Do you want me to make you something? Or do you want to try and eat the burger?”
“I can try to eat,” she says.
A rustling sound comes from the side of the house. Her head whips to the window, and she moves over to close the small shades.
An uneasy feeling runs through me. She looks like she’s about to jump at any movement. She’s holding her hands to her side, but I can see they’re shaking as she walks back to the table. I know I should tread lightly, but my mouth has other plans. “Are you seeing someone?”
She stops mid-step. “What?” she asks, a confused look on her face.
“It’s just that”—I pull out a chair and sit down—“you’ve been looking outside since I got here, so I was wondering if you were seeing someone?”
She pulls out the opposite chair and sits down. “I’m not seeing anyone, Theo,” she replies softly. “Are you?”
“No,” I answer right away.
“I somehow . . .” she trails off as she reaches into the bag and pulls out a French fry. She hands me one of the burgers. “I somehow don’t believe that.”
My thumb taps the table. “I’ve never lied to you, Collins. Not once.” My eyes stare into hers. “And I’m not about to start now. I haven’t been in a relationship for the last year.”
“Not a man who wants to be tied down, then.”
“I didn’t say that.” I unwrap my burger. “I just said I haven’t had a relationship in a while.”
