He smiles. “Deal.”
We still argue over each movie before finally settling on Father of the Bride. Haden appears bored by my choice but continues to watch with a chuckle every now and then at Steve Martin’s ridiculous antics.
&nb
sp; “Marcus loves this movie,” I blurt out, regretting it immediately.
In the dark room, his body stiffens beside me. His stare is fixated on the screen.
“Do you still talk to him?” he asks in a slightly aggravated tone.
“Um… not really, apart from a text here and there.”
“So, you do talk to him?”
Confused by his question, I simply agree. “If you consider that talking, then yes. Why?”
Crossing his arms to cover his bare chest, he continues to watch the television, refusing to make eye contact with me. “I just don’t see why you still talk to him. You told him it’s over.”
“Because we’re friends. It wasn’t just about sex.”
The tension in the room thickens, and I have no idea why this is still an issue. It’s almost like he’s jealous, but that notion is ridiculous because again, we’re not together.
With an undermining stare, his eyes bore into me, followed by a deep growl. “So, you weren’t just fucking him?”
“Do you have a problem? Because the last time I checked, you were engaged. My sex life is of no concern to you, especially what’s in the past.”
“He’s my cousin!” he raises his voice, startling me.
“How does that matter? You and I weren’t dating. Geez, Haden, it was one night—”
He interrupts me, dead cold. “That you regret.”
“I did regret it, but—”
“But what?” he demands.
“Will you let me finish?” I exhale. “But now I have this baby growing inside me. I can’t regret something that feels so right. This is my life now.”
“Our life,” he corrects me.
I don’t understand him, and I have no idea what triggers his erratic behavior. This is getting more complicated by the minute. Now, we are sitting here side by side with a whole night ahead of us. I’m pretty sure one of us won’t come out of this alive.
We continue to watch the rest of the movie in silence. Toward the end, I twist my back against the headboard of the bed, scratching the itch that my bra strap is giving me. For starters, it’s two sizes too small, and my breasts grew to double their size overnight. Trying to remain inconspicuous, I move in subtle yet slow twists.
Haden turns his head to watch me, his eyes peering like a curious meerkat. I still my body movements, not wanting to draw further attention. Stupid big nipples.
“Why do you look like you’ve got a spider down your back?” he questions with dark amusement.
“It’s my bra,” I tell him, fed up with the persistent itch. “It’s uncomfortable, and the stupid strap is driving me insane.”
“Then, take it off.”
“Honestly, you got a screw loose. That’s so awkward, and no, I won’t do that.”
“Just do it. I won’t look, okay? Besides, there’s going to be more uncomfortable moments than that when the baby comes barreling out of your vagina.”
“You’re not going to be in the room.”