She fist pumps the air and jumps up and down after that, then does some weird chest shaking thing toward the sky that will forever give me nightmares.
After doing the running man and a few robot dances, she moonwalks back to the house, brushes her clothes back into place, and smooths her hair down before opening the door. I move back into the room, acting like I didn’t just see her suffer temporary insanity.
When she walks back into the room, she’s a picture of composure.
“Yes,” she says calmly. “This will be the best nursery there’s ever been, and I’ll do it in neutral colors. We can always add a different color into the scheme after we figure out the sex.”
It’s all getting more real by the second.
“Thanks, Mom. Really. You have no idea how much—”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I juggle it out, seeing Corbin’s name flash across my screen. He rarely ever calls me, so I’m confused when I answer.
That’s when my world comes crashing down for the second time in a week. Only this time, it’s all I can do not to fall apart.
Chapter 67
BELLA
My phone buzzes with a text, and my stomach tilts.
ETHAN: Will you breastfeed?
I’ve been on edge just waiting for him to call me or text me or something, and this is what he sends? I’ve anticipated a lot of swearing and resentment. I’ve braced myself for the inevitable blame game. After all, I’m the one who forgot to get my shot, and I let him know that. This is on me, and then I hid like a coward when I needed time to process what this meant.
ME: Yes.
I decide to stick with a simplistic answer, since it’s such a random question.
I stare at my phone, waiting on him to explain. Instead, I get another random text.
ETHAN: Where the fuck are you?
Is he drunk right now? I hate texting. It hides the emotion behind the words, and I don’t know if he’s exasperated or pissed.
ME: At home.
Is he coming here?
One glance in the mirror has me cringing. I look like death warmed up on a cold plate of hell. Today, I got the first taste of morning sickness. And it sucks big hairy donkey balls.
ETHAN: That was meant for Tag. Not you. Sorry.
Apparently he’s not coming.
My mind, being the obsessive maniac it is, starts wondering why he’s looking for Tag, or if it’s really Tag he was sending that message to. What if it was meant for Star? I got those messages when he was ready for me to be with him and I was running behind.
What if she’s getting them now?
No. No. I can’t do that.
ME: Ok.
I don’t even know why I bother answering. He’s driving me crazy, and I don’t know if it’s intentional or accidental.
Tossing my phone aside, I run a hand through my hair. I have a doctor’s appointment in two weeks. My appointment last night led into another appointment, because my blood pressure was a little high.
Nothing to worry about, they said, but to come back in a couple of weeks just to be sure.