“I’m almost done packing.”
I hate the awkward tension hanging in the air between us. It’s never awkward with us, not like this at least, and I hate it. When things get bad I’m used to running to Xander and having him wrap his arms around me and tell me it’s going to be okay, but not this time.
“I’ll wait.” He gives me a slight smile and I know he feels the tension too.
I finish packing and Xander paces around the room, looking to make sure he hasn’t left anything behind in here. There are a few condoms scattered on the floor—let’s just say we were making up for a heck of a lot of lost time last night—and he picks them up to throw them away.
“Shit,” he curses and I look up from the blouse I was packing away.
“What?” I ask and his silence scares me. “Xander?” I prompt.
“This one’s broken,” he mumbles, nodding at the condom he holds.
“What?” I say again. “No.”
“Thea—”
“I’m going to be sick,” I cry, and run for the toilet. I collapse in front of it and heave up everything in my stomach—which isn’t much.
Xander’s hand touches my back and I flinch. His hand falls away and I can hear him running water in the sink.
I can barely handle the thought of us being married, but if I’m pregnant too? There’s no hiding a baby.
I sit on the cold tile floor and lean my back against the wall. Xander kneels in front of me and wipes my mouth with a washcloth. His dark eyes are full of worry but he doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing he can say.
He helps me up and I brush my teeth, thankful I hadn’t packed my bathroom stuff yet. He disappears into the bedroom and when I emerge from the bathroom I see that he’s finished packing my bag for me and waits by the door.
We’re both silent as we head next door to his room so he can grab his suitcase. I wait in the hall, fighting tears.
When he comes back into the hall, wheeling his black suitcase behind him, my chin wobbles.
“Thea,” he says my name softly, almost pained sounding. “Please don’t cry.”
“I’m scared,” I confess, my voice barely a whisper.
He lets go of his suitcase and pulls me into his arms.
His arms.
My safe place.
I only let myself linger in his arms for a few seconds before I force myself away and wipe the tear from my cheek. I won’t let this get to me.
“When we go to leave, follow my lead,” he tells me. “Okay?”
I nod.
Xander will take care of this. He’ll fix it. That’s what he’s good at.
The walk down the hall to the elevator seems endless. He reaches out to push the button to call it to our floor and my hand flies out, grabbing his wrist. “The rings,” I hiss. I completely forgot about them. I hastily rip off mine and go to stuff it in my bag but Xander swipes it from my hand. “Hey,” I protest.
“I can’t trust you with this,” he whispers gruffly. “You might throw it away.”
“I wouldn’t—”
“I’ll hold onto it, for now.” He takes his off and shoves both deep into his pocket. I should be relieved to be rid of the ring, to not even have it in my possession, but I feel slightly empty inside.
The shiny elevator doors slide open and we step inside. My heart is beating so loud in my ears that I can pick out each individual beat. I look to Xander and I can’t read his emotions. His face is a mask of steely calm, like he can take on the world and not bat an eye. It’