Being Mrs. Cane (Cane 3.5) - Page 17

I wouldn’t have called this an accident, but rather a blessing in disguise. I just prayed this blessing lasted the full nine months.

Over the course of the next month, Kandy was anxious, while I was….slightly overbearing. As soon as she’d told me, I had Cora look into the best gynecologists in the metro area. I booked an appointment for her to be seen, and Mindy drove to Charlotte to tag along. She didn’t want to miss out on any of the details.

For the most part, the doctor said Kandy was fine—the same results her last doctor had uncovered. But Dr. Maxine suggested Kandy pretty much be on modified bedrest. She didn’t have to stay in bed all day, but she wasn’t supposed to stand more than a half hour at a time, and no strenuous working out, driving, or sex.

You’d think Kandy would have listened and taken things a little more seriously, but did she? No. She was so damn hardheaded, and I was getting fed up.

“Did you not hear what your doctor said, Kandy? You are not getting on that treadmill!” I was standing in front of the treadmill in her office, blocking her way.

“It’s a harmless walk, Cane! I won’t even go fast! I don’t want to just sit around getting lazy and fat.”

“It doesn’t matter if you go fast or slow, you shouldn’t be on it! You’re supposed to be relaxing as much as possible!”

“Oh, my God, you are unbelievable!” She rushed around me to get out of the room, hurrying down the stairs. I rushed after her.

“Kandy, slow the hell down! You have slippers on! You could fall!”

“Yeah, well, if I fall, I’ll just fucking fall, Cane!” She went down the hallway to get to the kitchen. When I got in there, she was yanking the fridge open, taking out a green smoothie. Mama was in the kitchen as well, looking between us, trying to figure out what was going on.

“What? Are you going to tell me I can’t drink this, or it might poison the baby?”

I planted my hands above my hips. “Shit, will it?”

“Ugh.” She rushed around the counter to get past me, glaring back once before disappearing.

“Slow your ass down!” I bellowed, but I was certain she didn’t listen.

“Cane, you have to give her some space,” Mama insisted.

“Space? What space? What if she falls or trips, then what? She could lose it all over a stumble!”

“I get that, but right now, she’s hormonal, fatigued, nauseous, and stressed, and those four things combined are not a good feeling, son. And it’s not good for the baby, either.”

I sighed, sitting on the stool at the counter. Mama was frosting a red velvet cake. Apparently she was in charge of bringing baked treats to her sobriety meetings. She no longer attended as a person who needed to understand their wrongs, but more so as someone who coached others into wellness. She’d gotten into doing yoga and meditation, and I think it was paying off for her.

“Look, Ma, the doctor told her she needed to relax. I was there to hear it myself last week. She practically wants her on bedrest until the thirteen weeks are over. She’s lucky I’m even letting her get out of the bed, let alone come down the stairs wearing those stupid slippers around the damn house! They don’t even have traction on the bottom!”

Mama chuckled, head shaking.

“What’s so funny?”

“You,” she continued a light laugh. “I remember when everything she did was so cute to you. Now you’re upset because she has a mind of her own, even stooping so low as to call her slippers stupid.”

I rolled my eyes, pulling out my cellphone when it chimed. “They are dumb. That fuzzy shit on them gets all over my bed.” I read over the email from Eden and rolled my eyes a second time.

As you are aware, I wasn’t pleased with the sponsorship banner your team created for the store.

I’ll be arriving Thursday morning to see the new one. I expect you to be there.

“Look, I get that you want her and the baby to be safe, but she’s dealing with a lot as it is,” Mama said. “Maybe you can go for a walk with her in the neighborhood, get some air. I’m sure she’s tired of being cooped up in this house, and if she gets the chance to see that baby’s eyes one day, she’ll get enough of being trapped in here anyway. Trust me, it’s best if she gets out while she can. When is the baby due exactly?”

“They think around early April. The sixth of April is the precise date the doctor gave us.” I groaned, rubbing my face. “I’m worried. That’s all. I keep thinking about the downside of all of this, and I know it will haunt her. I’ve read about it, and miscarriages aren’t easy. She said her mom went through them, so she’ll have someone to talk to who understands, if it does happen, but I don’t want her going through that. I just want her to be careful and to take this a little more seriously. I mean, I know she cares, but she’s still young and naive about a lot of things.”

Tags: Shanora Williams Cane Billionaire Romance
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