Xander looks down at me, tilting his head and allowing m
e to answer since I’m the one constantly puking my guts up.
I nod, pushing my hair out of my eyes. “I think I’m okay to go back out.”
“Cool.” Xavier backs away slowly and then pauses. “Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
He eyes us, and I can tell he’s unconvinced, but he finally nods and leaves us alone.
“Your brother is entirely too perceptive,” I mumble.
He chuckles warmly. “He’s a Kincaid.”
I know we can’t hide out in the bathroom forever so I reluctantly pull away from him and head down the hall and then out the back door in the kitchen.
Everyone is sitting around eating, and they look up when they hear the door slide open.
“Are you feeling better, sweetie?” Sarah calls out, shielding her eyes with her hands. I don’t know why she doesn’t just wear sunglasses.
“Much,” I reply, and as of right now, that statement is true.
The only unrest in my stomach is from the turmoil of worry and nothing to do with actual sickness.
I grab a plate and make a burger with lettuce, tomato, onions, and mayonnaise. I add some chips and macaroni salad to the side.
Xander makes his plate of food and we sit down where we’d been before.
“So,” Sarah starts, clearing her throat, “now that you’re pregnant, are you still going to look for a job or stay home?”
“I’m going to work,” I snap, horrified by the idea of being a stay-at-home mom. “I’d go crazy being home all the time, especially with Xander gone a lot.”
“You might change your mind,” she warns with a knowing look.
I snort. “Doubtful. I need to be out doing something. I refuse to stay at home as his little wifey, making dinner every night, and taking care of the kids while he goes off and works and provides for the family. I want to work too, I want us to be equal, I don’t want—”
“She doesn’t want to feel trapped,” Xander finishes for me, giving me a knowing look.
I’ve never talked about this with him before, I don’t think I really knew how to voice how I felt.
I glance at my mom sadly. “Exactly.”
“I just don’t understand.” Sarah shakes her head, her brow narrowed in confusion.
“Sarah,” my mom interrupts, “she doesn’t want to end up like me.”
Sarah’s eyes widen in surprise and then horror as she connects the dots. “Oh … oh. But Xander’s not your dad. He’d never trap you.”
“I know he’s different.” I look up at my husband and he smiles down at me. “Xander is kind and good and amazing, but that fear of what could be still lies there.” I tap my heart. “I grew up seeing my mom not be able to do anything and I vowed to never let that be me.”
“It won’t be.” Xander presses his lips to the side of my forehead.
I love that he understands me, and accepts me, even with all my crazy.
I know I’m not the easiest to love, but he makes it seem like it’s effortless.
The conversation turns to football, for which I’m thankful.