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It wouldn’t matter if I was having a baby with Jesus Christ himself—it still wouldn’t be good enough.

I’m going to tell my parents about the baby on this trip home, and when I get back, I’m going to go with you to tell yours. They can tell me I’m not good enough for you to my face.

It’s not about whether YOU’RE good enough for me. It’s the fact that I’m having a baby, period.

They don’t want you to have a family?!

Can we talk about this another time? Maybe not over text?

Who the fuck are these people? The Monroes just went straight to the top of my shit list.

Damn right we are. What the fuck, Kate? You’re thirty-six!

Thirty-five.

You drive me crazy; you know that?

Hard same.

I catch myself smiling. Somehow, in the space of ten seconds, it’s morphed from a full-blown scowl.

It turns me on. I’ve got a boner at thirty thousand feet.

Insufferable.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

KATE

The following day, I sit up in bed feeling like total shit.

One minute, I’m fine; the next, it feels like I could fall through the floor. Dizziness and nausea have really taken hold.

Grabbing one of Jensen’s books from my bedroom floor, I quickly scan the pages until I find the section on morning sickness. Self-help it is. No need to call the doctor.

The key symptoms are everything I’m feeling, including loss of appetite.

Padding through to my kitchen, I flick the coffee maker on but quickly stop it. Blah, even that makes me gag. How in the hell am I supposed to make it through the day and then to the rescheduled meeting at six p.m. with the Parkers when I feel like this? I guess they call it morning sickness for a reason, and hopefully, by the afternoon, I’ll be feeling better.

I need to feel better.

A half-hour later, I’ve dragged my sorry ass around my apartment and made the best effort I could to get ready. I genuinely cannot bear the thought of food, so I forego mybreakfast and take a few sips of water. At least Felicity will be back at work today.

Snatching up my keys, I make my way down to the parking lot and get in my car.

God, this isn’t getting any better, if anything worse.

“No excuses.”Violet’s mantra rings over in my head.

Cranking the engine, I back out of my space and head for work, stopping at a stoplight a couple of blocks away from my office when my phone buzzes.

Then buzzes again.

Connecting it to the Bluetooth, I pick up but don’t bother to check who’s calling. “Hello?”

“Kate, it’s Margo. Sorry about this, but the Parkers are here and waiting for their appointment. There’s been a mix-up with timings.” She pauses, and I hear a few clicks of a computer mouse. “You have an opening for an hour right now if you can see them?”

“I thought it would take at least two hours, given the paperwork they wanted help with.”