After spending my morning with my head buried in the toilet, I bring my laptop into bed with me and open my last project. It’s the next book in the auction series. I skim over the last 3,000 words that I’ve written to refresh my memory and look over the notes that I made before I got sick. Well, not sick exactly. It’s not like being pregnant is being sick, but it’s definitely not being well. Everything seems in order. I have the next chapter all laid out. I type up the notes on what I want to cover and start the timer. I always write in twenty minute intervals. That way if nothing comes out, I only write for twenty minutes and the whole process doesn’t seem that overwhelming. But usually I just keep going. Twenty minutes quickly turns into forty and then sixty. Typically, I manage to get through three sessions before I get tired or need to take a break. Not this time though.

I sit in front of my computer and stare at the cursor. Nothing comes to mind. I mean, everything is planned out, but words are just so hard to come by. I sit staring at the blank page for exactly six minutes and thirty nine seconds before I give up and stop the timer.

“Shit,” I say. This is much worse than I thought. I mean, I knew that the nausea made it hard to walk around and function as a person, but I didn’t know that it would actually have an effect on my brain. It’s not that I feel particularly tired this morning. I just feel…drained.

Then I do what any writer should never do. Turn on Facebook and read my

Newsfeed. When I get bored, I follow that up with about ten articles on BuzzPost. I even take a few of their useless quizzes, the ones I used to write. I find out that I should retire in Belize based on the type of kitchen I like and that I should paint my house white based on the number of pets I have (or don’t have as it is in my case). I avoid the quiz about how many kids I will have based on the kind of 90’s shows I like. That one just hits a little bit too close to home.

And then something occurs to me. I’m not sure where it comes from except that the idea formulates somewhere in the back of my head. It’s a story about a guy who loves his family and child, but feels trapped by the whole thing. Trapped because he has to work as a teacher when he really wants to be a writer. One day, he goes on a run and stumbles upon the body of a dead girl. When he’s about to call the police, he sees a large suitcase full of cash next to her. The bag contains over two million dollars. He takes it and that’s when things start to go bad for him. It’s just a kernel of an idea. I don’t really have any idea of where it will go or why, but I quickly pick up a piece of paper and start outlining. I write down what happens in chapter after chapter and the ideas just pour out of me. It reminds me of the time when I was writing my first romance book, about the auction. It was true to what really happened and then I thought that the words came so easily because I didn’t have to make anything up. Yet now, I’m making up every last bit and the story is unfolding just as fast. I must be onto something.

An hour later, the outline for The Dead Girl is complete. I have no idea why I’m working on this. I doubt that it’s going to go anywhere. I mean, I don’t even have a thriller name, a brand, or even a mailing list, and yet it feels exciting just to think about working on it. There’s something intriguing about a man who finds a bag of money and sees it as an escape from his life. And yet, after going through all of that drama and action, what he realizes at the end is that what he really wants is to have his family again.

“Ellie, there’s someone here to see you!” Brie yells from the living room. I have gotten so involved in my story, with instrumental pop music blaring in my earphones, that I didn’t hear the door.

“Hey,” he says. I turn around and see Aiden standing in my doorway. I glance over at Brie who is hovering behind him, with her arms crossed at her chest. She is clearly not approving of this.

“Oh, hey,” I mumble.

“Ellie, what’s going on?” Aiden asks. “I’ve been calling. And texting.”

“I know.”

“Didn’t you want to see me?”

“Didn’t you get my texts?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Yes, of course. But all you said was that you couldn’t see me that day.”

I have been unfair. I’ve been pushing Aiden away and not explaining a thing. But that’s because I needed to buy time. I needed time to figure some things out.

I look up at him. Wow, I had somewhat forgotten how handsome he really is. That thick, gorgeous hair. Those large eyes and long eyelashes. They’re almost feminine in their delicateness, conveying both depth and sorrow. He just came from work - lunch hour? - so he’s still dressed in one of his perfectly tailored gray suits, which hugs his toned body in just the right way.

“Aiden, that’s my sister, Brie.”

“Yes, we’ve met,” he says.

“Ellie, do you want me to get him out of here?” Brie asks. I smile. I like her no-nonsense way of being. People never took her seriously, but that haircut really gives her an edge. By the look on Aiden’s face, I can tell that he’s taking her seriously.

“No, it’s fine,” I say.

“Are you sure?”

I nod.

“Well, just let me know,” she says. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Your sister is scary,” Aiden says, half-jokingly.

“Yes, she is.” I nod.

He walks over and sits down on the bed next to me. “Ellie, what’s going on?” he asks. “I’m really sorry about whatever it is that I did. I thought that everything was okay between us.”

“Yes, it’s fine,” I mumble. I take a deep breath. There’s no getting out of it. I have to tell him.

“So? Why have you been avoiding me?”

“Aiden, I have to tell you something.”

“You’re pregnant?” Aiden asks. I have already explained this to him twice and yet he still seems to have trouble processing it.

“Listen, like I said, you don’t have to be involved.”

“What do you mean not be involved?” he asks.

I shrug. I don’t know how he feels about this and I’m not sure if I want to.

“Of course I’m going to be here for you, Ellie,” Aiden says. “I love you.”

And with that simple phrase, the weight of the world suddenly lifts off my shoulders. I’ve run through a million different reactions in my head, but this one, frankly never came to mind.

“Ellie?” Aiden asks. I stare at him in disbelief.

“I don’t understand.”

“Ellie, I’m so…happy. I never really thought about having kids, honestly. But, now that you’re pregnant. I’m genuinely happy.”

“Really?”

“Are you not?”

I don’t know. I’ve been so worried about what I should be thinking and feeling that I haven’t given much thought to what I was actually thinking and feeling. And reality? Well, after having that long talk with Brie, I felt okay about it. Maybe even a little excited. Perhaps, it will be fine after all.

“I don’t know,” I say.

“Well, I know that it’s your decision, but if you want to hear my thoughts…” Aiden says.

I stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m really happy about it. I’d love to have a baby with you. I love you. And I want to be a family.”

Family. Oh my God. That word sends a shiver through my body. But when I look up at him, suddenly it all feels aright.

“I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring your calls,” I say. “I was just so worried about this. Worried and sick.”

“I wish you had told me. I mean, it must be hard trying to decide how you feel about this, throwing up so much like you are.”

I nod. He has a point. I’ve never been much of the mothering type, but being this sick all the time definitely hasn’t helped matters. For one thing, I felt depressed and down most of the day. I had never felt this way before. I thought that my feelings of melancholy came from the actual physical experience of being pregnant, but in reality they didn’t. I think they came from all the hormonal changes and the fact that I was throwing up all the time.

“I’m just so…confused,” I finally admit the truth. “I mean, one minute I think it’s going to be okay and the next, I’m completely freaking out.”

Aiden nods and takes me into his arms. He kisses the top of my head and tells me that it’s going to be okay. And then he just holds me. He doesn’t ask me any more questions or force me to put what I’m feeling into words. He just holds me and makes me feel like it’s all going to be okay. I breathe in and out and after a few minutes, I believe him.

“Listen, Ellie, whatever you decide, I’m here for you. I want you to know that,” he says after a while. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I mumble into his shirt.

“But I also want you to know that the thought of this baby…well, it makes me excited. I always thought that I would freak out or run away. That there was no way that I would ever have a kid, but now that it’s here…well, it feels ok. Right even. It feels like it’s something that should happen.”

I breathe in and out deeply.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you. I’m not saying this to sway you either way. Please know that. I’m just telling you because I want you to know how I feel. To really know how I truly feel.”

I nod. Were it anyone else in his position, I’d say it was bullshit - that the guy was just saying that to guilt me into having the baby. But by the earnest expression on Aiden’s face, I know that he’s telling me the truth. There are no ulterior motives here. No obfuscation. No lies. It’s the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

“So…what does this mean?” I ask slowly.

“It means that the decision is all yours. And I will support you no matter what.”

I inhale deeply. It’s crazy to think that only a minute ago I was so confused by what I should do. And now? Well, just the fact that he was into it, and not just into it, actually excited by the whole thing, well, that made me feel okay about it. Like, perhaps, this is something that I could really do - become a mom. Now, there’s a trip!

“I have to tell you something,” Aiden says, pulling away. The expression on his face grows serious and my heart sinks. Now what’s wrong?

“I have my job at Owl back for good.”

“You what?” I ask. I can hardly believe it.

“Yep, they want me back. Apparently, no one else can run it as well as I do.”

“Oh my God.” I throw my arms around his neck and give him a big kiss. He kisses me right back, so passionately that my knees grow weak. We fall into bed together with him on top of me.

“I guess we’ll have to postpone our trip to Belize for a bit,” Aiden says, pulling slightly away. He brushes my hair out of my face and gives me a little peck on the cheek.

“I guess so,” I say sadly. “If only I wasn’t so sick.”

“Well, you have a date there. As soon as you feel better, I’ll take time off and I’ll take you there. On a proper vacation.”

“I’d like that,” I whisper.

Aiden presses his lips to mine and I let his tongue make its way inside. I had forgotten what a good and gentle kisser he is. These are the kind of kisses that will make you forget just about everything in life, except maybe the one thing that I can’t forget - that I’m about to be a mom.