Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
I know I need to get him in the right state of mind before breaking the news. He was already struggling with so much at work, not to mention his hobby of underground MMA fighting, which no one but me knows he does. I don’t want to add to his burden, but I also know that I can’t keep this from him any longer.
Talking to my sisters has helped. I’m sitting at the kitchen island, stuffing hideous wedding invitations. They are gold and ugly.
The cacophony of sound is actually helping me by drowning out my thoughts. Over the last week, I’ve talked to them more and more. I love them already. We’re fast friends, more than really. Lincoln had a late meeting at the office, so it was the perfect time to talk to them.
“How come you aren’t having a glass of wine?” February asks, which is funny to me since most of my sisters are in various stages of pregnancy, too. January and February just had babies. March and April are both due in December. June, July, and August are due next year. I haven’t heard anything about September or October yet, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time. The secret Delacroix girls are super fertile it seems.
“I can’t drink right now; I'm pregnant,” I reply before thinking about what I’m saying. With the gasps and everyone talking so loudly all at once, it’s no wonder I don’t hear the alarm chime as the door opens.
“You want to repeat that?” he demands, his voice deadly and quiet. The front door slams, and the voices on the phone go quiet.
"I’m going to have to call you back,” I say.
“Okay, Call us back,” March says.
“Yeah we are going to need to hear more about that,” April says.
“I will,” I say, hanging up the phone and setting it down on the counter. Taking a deep breath, I approach him, ready to open up and tell him what I’ve been hiding. His expression is guarded, but I can tell he is trying to understand but he heard what I said.
“What did you just say?” he asks again.
He turns away from me, and I move toward him.
This is all my fault; I have to fix it. I have to make him see that I didn’t keep this from him purposefully, not maliciously, anyway.
CHAPTER 10
LINCOLN
“What did you just say?” I did not just hear her say what I think she did to whoever she was talking to. She says something to whoever that is about calling them back. Damn right, she is. My back is to her right now because if I don’t pinch the bridge of my nose, I am going to blow. “How long have you known, November?”
“About a week.” My feet spin fast enough for me to see the sheepish look on her face.
“Are you kidding me? You let me choke you and spank the shit out of you, and the whole time you knew?” She comes and walks towards me, smiling from ear to ear.
“How far along are you?”
“Nine weeks.” Almost three months. She kisses my lips and wraps her arms around my neck, biting her bottom lip. Little sneak.
“Oh no, you little brat. You won’t be getting any of that tonight, you deceitful hussy.”
“Lincoln,” she whines, rubbing her body up and down my chest.
“No. Don’t. I could have hurt you both, baby.” When she starts laughing, I am stunned into silence. Is she laughing at me? “I’m serious, November. I could have cut off oxygen to the baby or anything.” Oh, great. Now, she is practically on the floor, holding her stomach, laughing uncontrollably. I want to be indignant, but hearing her laugh is like a balm to my soul. I love that sound.
Thinking about all of our troubles over the last month or so gives me the push to turn this situation into a serious conversation. “Lincoln, you’re a riot,” she says, calming down.
Lifting her in my arms, I walk us into the living room and sit her on my lap. Moving her hair from her face, I ask her the one question that could fix everything and remove the stress from her and my child.
“Baby, let me ask you something. If you have anything to make this wedding planning easier, what would it be?” She looks down at her hands, which she does when she is thinking. Finally, after a few minutes, she looks at me and smiles.
“A wedding planner, one we choose who will stick to the budget we set, but a budget I don’t have to worry about but that will give us the wedding of our dreams. I want it to stay small and…us.” That is a piece of cake.
“Oh baby, you don’t have to worry about that. My family will no longer be in attendance. This wedding is ours and we will make it what we want.”