Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“She has the band. It’s a show-stopper too.” Berkley has a single marquis diamond sitting on a gold band.
“I can’t believe we’re getting married. And we are so having drunken-naked, we’re-getting-married sex too!” She stands up, starts stripping, and walks towards the door.
“Bring the champagne. We definitely have something to celebrate.” Berkley is down to her panties and nothing else. Had I known she wasn’t wearing much underneath her borrowed clothes, they would have been long gone.
“Fuck yes, we are.” I strip my own clothes off, grab the bottle, and follow my future wife. Tonight, neither of us will be getting any sleep. My only thought will be seeing her wear nothing but my ring on her finger until we’re forced to get out of bed for food, and even that’s questionable.
Epilogue
Berkley
Six and a Half Years Later
“Oh my god, you have demon sperm. Literally the spawn of Satan. How am I supposed to go six more weeks like this? If that’s even the case. I’ve heard people have morning, noon, and night sickness all throughout their pregnancy.” I’m bitching, mainly because we’re pulled over the side of the road for what seems like the eighth time, and it’s barely two o’clock in the afternoon.
“Sugar, I’m pretty sure your mom said she had the same trouble when she was pregnant with you. It’s part of the reason you’re an only child, remember?” Ryder jokes. Go figure. We finally started trying, which by the way took little effort after I didn’t take my last depo shot, and BAM! There I was, pregnant. He’s not wrong though. Mom told me plenty of times that the pain and the aggravation all go away once your baby is in your arms, but before that, she was miserable, through her whole pregnancy. The only reason they didn’t have more children after me wasn’t because of the morning sickness issue. Mom was put on bedrest with me at thirty weeks. They couldn’t control her blood pressure even though she didn’t have any issues before, then that nice little thing called preeclampsia settled in. The doctor advised it could happen again after I was born. Dad said enough was enough, went and got the snip-snip. I don’t blame either of them. If I hear a hint of bedrest being tossed around, Ryder and I will do the exact same thing.
“We must be having a boy, then, because even Mom said this is worse than hers. She just had it in the morning. This shit goes on all day.” It’s the dead of summer, and we knew this would be our last chance to spend our yearly vacation where we rent a small RV, one you can drive. On the rare occurrences, Ryder even lets me drive. Not this time though. We’re making our way to Virginia, and at the rate we’re going this time, we’ll never make it.
“Not gonna argue there. It could be, but if we have a girl, I’ll be happy too. You want some sprite?” he offers. I thank my lucky stars daily that I have Ryder. He doesn’t have to be out here, holding my hair back in a loose ponytail or rubbing my back while I’m heaving out what little breakfast I was able to eat. Yet he is.
“I’ll get some when we go back inside. I might just lie on the couch while you drive. I’m sorry. I won’t be a very fun passenger this time.”
“As long as you feel better, I don’t give a goddamn, but I won’t lie. Not having to listen to your crazy music is a plus,” he jokes. Ryder talks a big game, but he sings every eighties song that I turn on.
“Yeah, sure. I think I’m okay now.” Ryder helps me back up into our RV, and I have to say, if Aspen were here, she would be in heaven with how she’d decorate this place. It’s still has all of the seventies’ vibes, except I’m pretty sure everything is original.
“Here, saltines and your sprite. Small sips and small bites.” Thankfully, he’s not trying to get me to eat anything ginger related. We tried all different kinds of things, but ginger by far was the worst thing to ever try.
“Thanks, you can drive. I promise I’ll be okay.” My eyes are already closing, even if it is to ward off the nausea.
“I think we’ll stay here in town tonight, let you rest and try again tomorrow. We’ll still make it to Virginia in time for your parents’ anniversary.” I don’t bother arguing because I know he won’t change his mind, and honestly, I kind of just want to lie in bed, hear the hum of the air conditioner, and feel his warmth beneath my body.
“I’m good with that,” I murmur.
“Shit, I know you’re tired when you’re agreeable. It’ll take us about ten minutes to get to the campground. You okay with that?”