Twenty-Two
Asher
I was living out of my suitcase, but that was okay because I couldn’t manage to want to put on clothes other than leggings and oversized shirts—if I could even get out of my sleep shirt.
I had been absolutely miserable all week, to the point that Porter threatened to take me to urgent care.
“It’s just morning sickness,” I told him more than once as I was camped out over the toilet or a wastebasket.
What I once thought was a stomach bug, turned into full-fledged, couldn’t-keep-anything down.
Let’s not even talk about when I had to feed Caine, or if Porter put on aftershave.
Every little thing was sending me to the bathroom.
Porter was the worst kind of mother hen, and I was thankful that today after physical therapy, he was going to the rink to watch practice. I had my first appointment a little later in the afternoon, which I was sure he was more excited about than I was.
Every night this week, we lay in bed and he couldn’t keep his hands off my still-flat stomach. The more he talked to me, talked to my belly, the more excited I was about this next adventure in our lives, but it was hard to stay excited when I was physically ill most of the day.
I lay in bed, curled on my side in the only position that my stomach seemed to be calm in the last few days. Playing around on my phone, I sent a text to Avery.
Are you going to be in Wisconsin?
I put my phone down, not thinking she’d be around to answer it anytime soon. I closed my eyes but no sooner than I did, my phone rang.
“Hello?” I asked, not bothering to open my eyes and look at the caller ID.
“Are you staying?” It was Avery.
“I think so.” I shook my head. “No. Yes, I’m staying.”
The girliest squeal came through the line, a sound I didn’t equate to Avery in the least.
“I’m so happy!”
I chuckled lightly.
“Do you need me to send back your stuff? You didn’t unpack it all, did you? I mean, I can repack it. Or maybe you and Porter can make it up here? I know Porter needs to be a bigger presence with the team, but maybe you can take a day trip.”
My stomach rolled and I groaned.
No reason.
There was no reason for it.
There weren’t any smells around me, I hadn’t eaten since before Porter left and he stuffed a dry piece of toast in my face—which, of course, came back up. Even Caine wasn’t allowed in the bedroom, because sometimes his paws set off the queasiness.
“We’re going to be busy,” I said instead. I couldn’t even imagine being on a plane with this going on.
“I’ll definitely get it all together for you. Oh, my God, I’m so excited. Have you guys decided on a new date for the wedding?”
I swallowed back the quick lump in my throat.
We hadn’t even talked about marriage.
I had no idea where my ring was and now, with our present situation, wasn’t sure a wedding was anywhere near our current radar.
“No,” I finally said. “We’re just worried about appointments right now,” I partially lied.
I mean, I had appointments in there too, so it wasn’t a complete lie.
I let Avery talk my ear off a little bit longer and eventually she had to go. I hung up the call and closed my eyes, but Caine let out a whine from the other side of the door.
“Alright, bud,” I mumbled, pushing myself up to sit. I gave myself a minute to gather my bearings before walking across the room.
I opened the door and Caine immediately leaned into my legs. Smiling lightly, I reached down to scratch behind his ears in his thick mane. “Go outside?”
Caine darted away from me and I walked cautiously down the hall and to the back door, where I let him out. My stomach growled but I was terrified to eat anything. When it growled again, I checked to be sure Caine was alright in the fenced-in yard, and moved to find something that sounded appealing.
I opened the fridge and my stomach rolled at the choices in there.
I moved to the pantry, and I had to fight the rising bile.
Toast, it was.
Porter
Nico dropped me off at the house after practice, just in time for me to grab Asher and head to her appointment.
“You up to grilling tonight?” Nico asked as I pulled myself down out of the truck.
I shook my head. “Asher and I have plans. But we’ll see you Thursday.” I was bursting at the seams to tell someone, anyone, our news, but Asher and I decided to wait. We didn’t know how far along she was—eleven weeks, minimum—and wanted to be sure everything was okay before we told the world.
I didn’t know how I was going to sit through the team Thanksgiving on Thursday without telling someone.
I headed into the house and was momentarily confused at the lack of greeting. Looking beyond the open concept, I saw Caine sitting at the sliding glass door, waiting to be let in.
I made my way over to let him in, noting a piece of toast on the table with a single bite taken out of it.
Fuck.
“Ash?” I closed the sliding door behind Caine and made my way to the bedroom, not even bothering to look at the bed and, instead, moved straight into the bathroom.
She was sleeping on the floor.
“Asher.”
I bent to a kneel, grimacing at the tightness. I cataloged the feelings, and once I was sure there wasn’t pain, I reached out to brush a loose hair from her face. “Asher.”
Her eyes opened slowly and she tried to give me a tired smile.
“Have you kept anything down today?”
She pushed up to sit and shook her head. “No. Maybe some water.”
I ground my molars together. This couldn’t be normal.
Thank God, we were seeing her OB.
“Come on, beautiful. Let’s brush your teeth and go ask some questions.”
***
“It’s just morning sickness.”
I ground my teeth together and Asher squeezed my hand from her perch on the exam table. “She’s lost twelve pounds, though.” I should have noticed that, and when the doctor mentioned she’d lost that much weight, I was instantly alarmed. Wasn’t she supposed to be gaining weight?
“And she’ll gain them right back in the next month or so.” Asher’s OB turned to address her now. “Other than feeling sick, how do you feel?”
“Okay.”
The doctor made some notes in her laptop before smiling at Asher. “Are you ready to see your bean?”
Asher, with her lips between her teeth in the way she did, nodded. I lifted her hand to my mouth and kissed it.
The doctor wheeled over a computer-on-wheels—which I realized was the ultrasound machine—and had Asher lay back. After pulling her shirt up, then tucking what looked like paper towel in the top of Asher’s leggings, she squeezed gel on Asher’s lower stomach.
It constricted at the feeling, and I could see her hip bones, much more pronounced than I had seen them before.
I couldn’t stop from beating myself up over not noticing.
Hell, she hadn’t fucking eaten in a week. No shit, she’d lost weight.
Asher squeezed my hand again and I looked down at her. She gave me a wobbly smile and I leaned down to kiss her lips softly once.
“Alright, guys.” The sound of a thick static filled the room, along with watery whomp whomp noises. I looked to the screen but didn’t know what I was looking for. The doctor hit keys on her keyboard a number of times before saying, “We’re measuring at twelve weeks.” Then, the fast patter of noise came through, with a fluttering on the screen. “And that’s a heartbeat.”
I couldn’t stop the grin on my face if I tried. I looked back down at Asher and her smile mirrored mine, even though she had tears in her eyes.
“And,” the doctor continued and I watched as she moved her wand. “There’s another one.”