Page 17

Chapter 16

Annette

I t was close to three a.m., and Terry wasn’t home yet. He was kind enough to say he was going out with some teammates, so I wouldn’t worry. But I still wasn’t used to being told things like that, especially since I refused to get my hopes up that our situation wasn’t anything more than convenience.

Tonight, the pain was getting to me. While everything was healing thus far, it still hurt so much if I moved wrong. Instead of opting for another round of Advil and Tylenol, I decided to make chamomile tea.

I put on the lovely magenta bathrobe that hung up in my closet, and before padding down to the kitchen, I peeked into Eric’s bedroom.

The kid was sleeping like one of those cherubs with his hands in the praying position and tucked under his head. He looked so happy in his hockey-inspired bedroom. It was good to see him finally be at peace like this. Quietly closing the door, I went downstairs.

I hissed in pain as I lifted the teapot.

Terry came in and immediately took the teapot from my hand. Instead of his typically smooth motions, his timing seemed off, and then there was the subtle drunken sway. He put the pot on the burner and then got the tea and a cup from the shelf.

As he struggled with turning on the high-tech stove, he said, “You’re sooooo damn pretty.”

I felt anything but pretty with those little light brown splotches all over my body. According to the doctors, I just had to wait a little more, and the bruises would be fully healed, though the ribs and the grief would take much longer.

I refused to look at him since he was clearly wearing drunk goggles. Ever since I moved in two weeks ago, he hadn’t so much as glanced my way.

His hands went to my waist and forced me to look at his eyes. “I’m not that trunk.”

I giggled and instantly regretted it since my ribs hurt. “I might have believed you if you said you were drunk.”

“Fine. I’m trunk.”

God. He was completely trashed, and it was time to get some water into his system and get him to bed. The sad thing was I had no idea how compliant he would be since the Terry I knew wouldn’t ever drink.

He kept staring at me until I couldn’t take it anymore. “What?” I asked.

“I’m thinking what you would look like naked.”

My eyes bugged out. Terry had always been brash and unfiltered, but even drunk, who the hell said something like that? It was just too crazy.

I crossed my arms in front of my body to hide my figure. I still felt so ugly with the bruises and some of the pregnancy weight, although that was more imagined since I wasn’t even that pregnant before it all happened.

He reached for my hands, but I turned my body away. He needed water, and I wanted to go back to sleep.

Finally, the tea kettle whistled, indicating the water was ready for tea. I was about to finish making it since it was my tea, not his, but he swatted me away, and nearly fell over. “Sstop it. You’re hurt. Let me,” he slurred.

He poured the hot water, but half of it went onto the counter instead of the mug. At least he didn’t pour boiling water onto himself.

“You should make a cup of tea for yourself,” I told him.

“It’sss too hot, just like you.”

His slurring was getting worse, which almost made no sense since he wasn’t drinking anything right now. Then I reminded myself he must be metabolizing everything he drank, and it would just get worse if we didn’t get any water in his system. He was going to have one nasty hangover in the morning if he didn’t drink something or sleep.

The fact that he wasn’t yelling or violent when he was drunk was refreshing. Instead, he was almost too nice. I felt weird, especially after he said he was picturing me naked.

“Fine, big boy, but do me a favor and make yourself some of those fancy waters that are all super hydrating.”

He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. Then, he went to the pantry and took a packet, but with the way he tore it, half the powder went all over the cupboard. After adding the remaining powder, he took a sip and muttered, “Anything for you.”

He took another sip as if to prove how much he was willing to do for me. He leaned forward as if to kiss me, and my hands went to his chest since I had to stop him. He was just drunk. He didn’t mean anything by that. It was just the drunk goggles talking.

“No,” I said firmly.

“Aw, but Annie, we dessserve thissss.”

Oh my god, this was insane.

“No, we don’t. Even earlier today, you were still pissed off at me for not letting you be a dad to Eric.”