A moment later Xander’s there, gathering my hair away from my face and rubbing my back. He’s been there every time I’ve gotten sick, refusing to let me be alone, even though I hate him seeing me like this.
I finish and sit back, looking up at him. I’m sure my mascara is streaked across my cheeks by now.
“Whoever called it morning sickness is a fucking liar. It’s all day sickness and they know it. They lie to you, because otherwise no one would ever want to have a baby,” I defend.
Xander chuckles and holds out his hands to help me up.
I take them, leaning against him. I feel exhausted. “Can you ask them to bag our food? Maybe I can eat it later, if I’m lucky. I just want to go home now.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He kisses my forehead and leaves me in the bathroom to clean up.
Five minutes later I leave the bathroom. Our food is already packed in boxes and bagged away.
“I already paid,” he tells me as I approach. “So we can get out of here.”
I grab my purse and then take his hand, letting him lead me out of the restaurant. I feel embarrassed that all those people saw me go flying into the bathroom to throw up, but I can’t help it. It is what it is, and I’m going to have to get used to it.
Pregnancy is definitely no cakewalk from what I’ve experienced thus far.
All those smiling and happy women on TV are a bunch of liars and should be sued.
We head home, and once we get there I head straight for the couch, curling up on it with Prue.
Xander fixes me a glass of ginger ale and then heads to his home gym—I say his, because the idea of me ever using any of the equipment in there is laughable.
I wiggle around on the couch and get comfortable. I’m hungry, but I’m too scared to attempt to eat something, so I watch TV instead.
“Well, Prue,” I sigh, curling my fingers into her fur, “it’s going to be a long eight months.”
She looks up at me with big brown eyes, and I swear she nods.
See, even the dog knows this isn’t going to be easy.
Xander
8 Weeks Pregnant
“Are you going to love me when I’m fat?”
I look up from my book and bust out laughing. “What the hell is that?”
“I know it’s lumpy, but I had to work with what I had.”
I shake my head. Thea has what looks like a sweatshirt wadded up into a ball and stuffed under her shirt.
“Now, I’m serious, are you still going to love me when I look like this?” She presses her hand to her fake round stomach.
My wife is a nut case, but at least there’s never a dull moment.
“I’ll love you forever, no matter what,” I tell her honestly.
I’ve loved that girl for so long, even when I shouldn’t have.
She sighs and sits down beside me. “I’m going to get so big.” She frowns, looking down at her fake belly. “I won’t be able to see my feet. I hope you’ll help me put my shoes on.”
I chuckle, setting my book aside. “I’ll do whatever I have to do.”
She rests her head on my shoulder. “It still doesn’t feel quite real yet.”