Page 45 of My Omega's Baby

“Let’s see, I’ve puked five times already this morning, so I’m feeling fucking awesome, Wyatt.”

I bit my tongue because I realized he had every reason to be upset. “I’ve heard ginger helps morning sickness.”

He exhaled impatiently and dumped his coffee into the sink. “I don’t see how I’m going to be able to take three months of this.” He rested both hands on the counter and hung his head. “Jesus, women have to do this for nine months? I’ve been expecting two days and I’m ready to give up.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” I felt guilty that he was the one who had to handle all of the hard part of this pregnancy.

“This never-ending nausea is really starting to piss me off.”

“Don’t they make things for that?” It seemed in this day and age surely doctors must have figured out a cure for morning sickness?

“Trust me, I’ve researched until I’m cross-eyed, and apparently nothing in the world helps.” He exhaled roughly. “I feel horrible that I never really appreciated what women went through.”

I hated how miserable he looked. “You have today off, why don’t we go do something fun?”

He scowled. “Are you even listening? I don’t feel good. I feel like I have the flu.”

What was I thinking? Of course he didn’t want to go out. “Can I do anything to help?”

He glowered. “No.”

I cleared my throat, and I set my coffee down. “I was thinking… maybe I should stay here a while longer.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because what’s happening to you isn’t anything either of us is equipped to deal with.”

“Then how exactly does it help me to have you here?”

I laughed stiffly. “We can fumble along together.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’d actually be willing to do that?”

I shrugged. “Why not?”

“Seriously?” He straightened. “You don’t like me. Remember?”

“I like you.”

He snorted. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie.”

I laughed gruffly. “I feel differently about you now.” I glanced at him, feeling sort of embarrassed for showing vulnerability.

“Yeah?”

I nodded. “I mean, you saved my life.” I shrugged. “And even before yesterday, I’ve been having nicer thoughts about you lately.”

“Well, well.” He smirked, but then his smile faded. “I’m still not sure it’s a great idea for you to stay.”

I was shocked at how disappointed his answer made me. “Why not?”

He swallowed, looking a little queasy. “I doubt you’ve thought it through.” He grabbed a paper towel, wet it, and squeezed the excess water out. Then he pressed it to his face, slumping a little.

“You okay?” I moved closer.

Closing his eyes, he said, “Just give me a second.”

My stomach ached watching him. I wanted to hold him and comfort him, and the thought of that surprised me. “If I was here I could cook dinner and… you know… take care of… things.” I’d started to say “you,” but I knew him well enough to know he’d have rejected the idea he needed taking care of.