“Aw, Thea,” Xander murmurs, pulling my hair away from my face. “I’m sorry, baby.” He rubs my back. I know he truly feels awful every time I get sick. I wish he’d leave me alone, so he didn’t have to see me like this, but he insists on being there.
When I’m done, I stand up, tears in my eyes. “That was embarrassing,” I hiss, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone is watching.
They all are, of course.
“Don’t be. It happens.” He rubs my arms.
“Do you think your mom has an extra toothbrush I can use?” I ask.
He nods. “I’m sure she does, but I’ll ask.”
“Thank you.”
I head inside while he goes to ask and get a glass of water, swishing the liquid around my mouth and spitting it out in the kitchen sink.
The sliding glass door opens, and Xander steps inside. “She said there are some in the guest bathroom.”
He nods for me to follow him down the hall.
“I can’t believe that happened,” I mumble, following him down the hall past family photos. I stop, smiling at one of him in high school. He’s in his football uniform with his arm slung around my brother. They look so young.
“Checking me out?” he jokes when he glances back and sees me staring at the photo.
I laugh. “You’re my husband, I can look all I want.” I stick my tongue out at him. I point at the picture. “I thought you were so hot—no lie, I used to doodle Mrs. Kincaid on all my notebooks.”
He smiles crookedly. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me happy.”
“I had the biggest crush on you. It was next level—like stalkerish.”
He laughs, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement. “I lived across the street, so I don’t think it counts as stalking.”
My lips tip up in a smile. “My old self would never believe I got to the guy. Let alone knocked up by him.”
“I don’t think it counts as knocked up when you’re married to the guy,” he reasons with a raised brow.
I shake my head. “When it’s a surprise it does. Now get me a toothbrush.” I wave my hand, urging him forward. “I don’t like tasting my throw up. It’s disgusting.”
“You’re the one staring at my picture.”
“You’re the one talking,” I argue back.
“I can never win with you.” He shakes his head, but he’s smiling.
“I know.” I grin back. “You should give up and accept defeat now.”
He shakes his head and heads further down the hall and to his right.
I follow him and watch as he ducks down and opens the cabinet beneath the sink. He locates a toothbrush and toothpaste and holds it out to me.
“Oh, thank God,” I cry and take both from him gratefully.
I feel like I’ve spent the majority of the last few weeks throwing up and brushing my teeth.
Wash, rinse, and repeat.
Xander leans against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest while I brush my teeth. I start to tell him he can go, but I know it’s pointless. He’s probably worried I’m going to get sick again.
I finish brushing my teeth and leave the toothbrush on the counter, in case I do get sick again and need to brush my teeth before we leave.