Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Maybe I will in time.
But for right now, the fact he’s in the kitchen with Drake and Brienne, talking so low I can’t hear makes me want to slap him.
I want to slap Drake and Brienne too.
I don’t need to be treated as if I’m fragile. I’m tired of Bain looking at me like a lost puppy and Drake looking confused and Brienne looking like she’s going to burst into tears.
Reaching out, I nab the remote and turn up the volume to try to drown them out. All it does is pull attention to me and Bain is there. “Do you need something?”
“Yeah… I need to be able to hear the TV,” I say glibly, tossing the remote back onto the coffee table. I curl my legs in, wrap my arms around the pillow and let my eyes drift back to Jax and the guys pulling out on their bikes.
The weight of Bain’s stare is oppressive. I know if I were to look at him, I’d see confusion because I’m not acting at all like myself.
But how does one act in a situation like this?
He’s hovered over me since we got home from the hospital yesterday. I had the D&C with no complications. Dr. Segal said I might have some spotting and cramps for a week or two and absolutely no tampons or sex until my follow-up appointment so he can make sure I’m fully healed.
I almost laughed at that because I’m pretty sure I’m never having sex again.
“Can I get you anything?” Bain asks hesitantly.
Yeah, you can quit fucking looking at me like that, I want to scream. Instead, I manage a small smile. “I’m good. Thanks.”
His return smile is hesitant as he lifts the light blanket pulled up over my hips and tucks it around my shoulders. His lips brush over my head and he turns to head back into the kitchen where my brother and future sister-in-law do their own hovering from a distance.
Even as my heart squeezes in pleasure over his kind act, I shrug off the blanket, pushing it back down to my hips. It’s a sullen, bratty move, which is so unlike me, but I can’t help it. The emotions running through me are too much to process. I feel like I’m precariously perched on the edge of a jagged cliff and there’s a terrifying drop before me, yet the safety of the solid ground behind me seems hollow… almost imaginary. There’s a tight knot of anger deep in my chest, not only for losing the baby but for rushing so fast into this relationship with Bain because I got pregnant. I threw out every bit of protection I had enshrouded myself in so I wouldn’t get hurt again. While I know it’s not Bain who hurt me, I can’t help but tie him to the irrationally terrible thoughts.
Bain and I only grew closer because I got pregnant. It was the catalyst that drove us forward. Without that baby to tie us together, there’s nothing to keep the bond in place.
So yes, I’m fucking angry.
And so goddamn sad because it’s not just that the baby is gone, it’s that the foundation of what we’ve built has disappeared with it.
It’s just not fair.
♦
It’s dark when I wake up. The TV is off and there’s a small table lamp across the living room that provides a soft glow that lets me see no one else is with me. I push up from the couch and stretch. I take stock of how I feel, expecting to be sore in my lower belly, but I don’t feel anything. I see the kitchen is empty, only the light above the stove on.
I listen and am greeted with total silence, but I can feel Bain’s presence in this house. Besides that, I know he’d never leave me alone without having some plan in place. He’d never leave without saying goodbye or letting me know where he was going.
After I fold the blanket and toss it on top of the pillow, I pad through the silent house to the master bedroom. I try to process my feelings as I see Bain asleep on the bed. The lamp on my side is still on. Bain is wearing a T-shirt and the covers are around his waist. I know without peeling them back he’s got on a pair of pajama bottoms. Normally, we sleep naked and I know he slept naked before he met me. It says a lot that he dressed before sleep tonight, almost like it’s armor.
I understand where he’s coming from. I don’t want to open myself up to any type of intimacy, and I’m not talking about the sexual type. Having clothes on provides a barrier. It sends a message.
Bain’s duffel is on the bench at the end of the bed, opened and full of the clothes he’s kept here. He leaves tomorrow for a four-day road trip. Then he’s back for one day and off again for two more road games. He’ll be gone seven days in total.