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I was about to scoff when my stomach grumbled loudly. Apparently, I was starved.
We ended up ordering barbeque chicken pizza, which Mark barely raised an eyebrow over. It wasn’t something I usually wanted but at this moment in time, I had to have some. Afterward, we made love on our bed, Mark moving into me with speed and precision until I shattered beneath him. He flipped me over onto my knees and proceeded to give me another earth-shattering orgasm, which pulled his own from him.
When we lay there sated and content, I was just about to fall asleep when a wave of nausea hit me. I scrambled to the bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before the pizza made its second appearance for the night.
I will never eat barbeque pizza again.
What I hadn’t realized was that Mark had stumbled into the bathroom after me. He didn’t run away screaming from the puke fest, but he stayed with me and helped me to clean up afterward. I threw up again when I brushed my teeth and he didn’t say a word as he scooped me up and took me into the shower.
The hot water felt amazing against my skin, but when it started to make me nauseous, I turned it to cold. I felt like aliens were attacking my body; I couldn’t regulate anything that I was feeling. Despite all of this, Mark was there. He dried me off and guided me over to the bed, tucking me in on my side.
“I love you, Sutton.” He tenderly kissed my forehead and I had a horrible urge to cry.
Damn hormones.
“I love you too,” I croaked. “But I don’t love this.”
He smoothed my hair back from my face. “I would do anything for you. You know that, right?”
I nodded, careful not to allow my chin to touch my chest.
“I wish you could carry our children,” I muttered.
He stilled. “Children, as in more than one?”
I was about to retort that there was no way in hell that I would go through this again. But then I thought about a little boy with his eyes and a little girl with long dark hair.
My voice was wobbly when I answered, “Let’s just get through this one. But yeah, I think I want a few.”
Mark growled, “I would have a dozen with you, my love. When can I make an honest woman out of you?”
I laughed and turned carefully onto my back. “It must be love if you are talking marriage with the ode to vomit still lingering in the air.”
He smirked at me, the one that would have melted my panties had I been wearing any.
“I would marry you any time, any day, anywhere. You just say the word.”
I sighed. “Let me get through this mess with the morning sickness and then I will consider making an honest man out of you.”
He gathered me against him, careful not to touch my stomach. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me. I know you never knew your father, but I couldn’t be more grateful to him for insisting that I find you.”
I felt that tightening in my chest that was always there when we talked about him, which wasn’t often. I had shied away from conversations, not wanting to feel the pain and rejection. But now, carrying my own child, I couldn’t help but wonder how my mother must have felt when she was pregnant with me. I knew she did it on her own, but I hadn’t taken into consideration how alone and scared she must have been.