Roomie Wars Box Set

“A few weeks ago.”

My fist curls into a ball, and my heart is racing with anger. I know Drew better than he knows himself. In his mind, he has already made his decision. I know Australia is his home, and he has always dreamt of going back. Combine that with being offered a role of a lifetime, something he’s worked so hard for, he won’t be able to turn them down.

“I need to go.”

In my panic, anger, and frustration, I slide off the stool and walk as fast as possible out of the restaurant and onto the walkway greeted by the light rain. My chest, rising and falling, makes it difficult to breathe. To add to this, my back begins to hurt even more, but I ignore everything just to escape.

“Zoey, come back here!”

The rain buckets down, the splash sizzling against my warm skin. Drew continues to yell, but I don’t give a damn. It’s now clear, more than ever, that my role in our marriage is to follow my husband. Screw the career I built for myself. I’ll be Suzi Homemaker while he’s barely home because of his high-profile role. I might as well raise these kids on my own since I’ll barely see him.

My waddle and large stomach make it difficult to get any traction, and before I know it, Drew is standing in front of me equally drenched with his hair falling over his eyes. He makes a quick attempt to slick it back, his frustration evident.

“Would you please just stop and listen for a moment? Why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the time?”

“Me… stubborn? You’re the caveman expecting me to stay home. I worked my whole life to get where I am. And then you come along and expect me to drop everything to support you. God, you hid this from me because you’re going to take the job. And you think it’s easy for me just to pick up and move to Australia. Everything is going to change… everything.”

“Zoey, of course, it’s going to change. You can’t stay in your little ‘80s’ bubble forever.”

“Oh, wow, you’re such an asshole,” I yell back until a sharp pain ripples beneath my stomach. I topple over, clutching at my belly while wincing.

“Zo, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing… apart from you being an ass.” The agonizing pain hits again, this time traveling to my back causing me to cry out loud. “Ow, it hurts…”

Drew grabs my arm in a mad rush until a warm liquid travels down my leg.

“I think my water just broke.”

Chapter Eight

Drew

Too many thoughts are running wild inside my head.

I want them to slow down, give me space to breathe, but all I can think about is driving this car to the hospital without killing anyone before we get there.

Throughout my career, I have performed many life-threatening surgeries with only a few resulting in death. Yet, amid these intricate surgeries and races against time, nothing has compared to the sheer panic of knowing your wife is in labor with your twins in the back seat of your car.

My hands grip the steering wheel tight, sweat building inside my palms as the sea of red lights ahead of us seems impossible to weave through.

“Zo, baby, just breathe. Your contractions are ten minutes apart.” I keep my voice calm, not allowin

g her to catch onto my panicked state while checking the clock and timing her contractions.

Fuck, they’re getting closer, and we’re not getting anywhere in this ridiculous traffic.

“It hurts,” she whimpers, softly, spreading her legs in the back seat. “I’m… I’m scared. The babies shouldn’t be coming now.”

My fears are tumbling out, unchecked by my brain, unable to remove the heightened emotions for me to think straight. Repeatedly checking the rearview mirror, my racing heart only begins to slow down between her contractions when her eyes close, and she’s breathing in and out slowly.

I turn the radio on, glad it’s playing a song she likes which hopefully will distract her. The GPS tells me fifteen more minutes, so trying to gain time, I stomp my foot on the accelerator whenever there’s a gap in between cars.

In just two minutes, her contractions will begin, so to lessen the pain I begin rambling about baby fun facts.

“Did you know babies are born without kneecaps?” I tell her, remembering this information from my studies. “Babies have a structure of cartilage that resembles the kneecaps and doesn’t develop until after six months.”

Zoey moans, gritting her teeth, head resting against the back seat. “What? I can’t even… that doesn’t make sense.”