I pull the door open. "Hey. Come on in."
She pushes by me, spins around, and accuses. "You didn't come to the club tonight."
I scratch at the back of my head and give her a hang-dog look. I hadn't promised her I would when she texted me a few hours ago, only that I'd try to make it.
It's the first time I've bailed on her invitation, but after talking to my parents tonight, I honestly just didn't feel like it. My talk with them had brought me down low, a potent reminder that my life as I loved it was over.
My career that brought me utter joy was done.
Sure... I was getting something great in return, but I was losing so much of my identity. So what if it made me a little melancholy?
"Sorry," I mutter. "Just was tired tonight."
Rachel cocks a perfectly shaped eyebrow into a higher arch. "Bullshit. What's wrong?"
With a sigh, I turn away and head back to my couch. I flop down on one end, throwing my arm over the back. She walks silently toward me, taking a seat at the opposite end.
"What's wrong?" she repeats, this time in a softer, more concerned tone.
I stare at her a moment, wondering if I should even share with her. I mean... we are nothing more than just fuck buddies, right?
"Bodie," she murmurs. "Talk to me."
That right there strikes at me deep. The tone in her voice that tells me she's concerned.
"I talked to my parents tonight," I say, rubbing at the stubble on my chin.
Her eyes grow soft with empathy. "And they're upset?"
My smile is weak. "On the contrary... they couldn't be more thrilled. Me coming home with a baby in tow. My mother's dreams are being totally fulfilled."
Rachel has always had an expressive face when she chooses to show what she's thinking, and I can read her loud and clear. She knows I don't want to leave Jameson. She knows I'm cutting a part of myself away by doing so and returning home.
And she knows it's her fault for not stepping up to the plate to be a mother.
"Don't even look at me like that," I say as I lean across and take her hand. "Your choices have nothing to do with me. And I spent a great deal of time telling my parents how much I admire you for giving of yourself so I can have this baby. I'm good, Rachel."
To my surprise, Rachel scrambles across the couch and pushes herself onto my lap. She loops her arms around my neck and rests her head on my chest. "I wish I were braver. I wish I could grab onto this the way you have."
I bring my hand to the back of her head, stroking a thumb over her hair and just holding her to me. "You're one of the bravest people I know. Making the decision to follow your heart... to keep your career. That's a brave decision, Rachel."
She makes a sound deep in her throat that tells me she doesn't believe a word I'm saying. But I don't try to press the point home, because frankly, I want Rachel really thinking about this.
Again, it goes back to regrets. I'm afraid she's going to have massive ones, and one thing I've come to learn about this woman is that when she goes all into something, she puts her soul on the line. I'm afraid her soul is going to get crushed when she realizes one day what she's lost.
Rising from the couch, I cradle Rachel in my arms and walk back to my bedroom. "No more talking," I tell her. "We have better things to do."
Rachel lifts her head slightly to press her lips to my throat. She doesn't say anything, just nods in agreement, and that's good enough for right now.
CHAPTER 18
Rachel
My eyes flutter open. For a moment, I'm completely disoriented. Then I take in the warm body behind me and the arm locked around my stomach.
I feel Bodie's breath on my shoulder. Strong and steady.
Just like Bodie.
Most of our hookups have been at The Wicked Horse, but last night was a bit different. When he asked me to stay, I didn't feel compelled to run.
A rumble in my belly has me taking stock of the morning situation. No nausea, which is happening less frequently, and a full bladder.
That means bathroom first and raiding Bodie's fridge second. Maybe I'll cook us breakfast.
When I roll out of bed, I'm surprised to see it's close to 9:30. I never sleep that late, but then again, Bodie and I didn't get a lot of rest last night either. The memories make me smile, and I reconsider waking Bodie up with my mouth before eggs and bacon.
Bodie's house only has one bathroom set between the two bedrooms. It's small, and the decor and fixtures date back to the 80s. Because we make such good money, most of the people at Jameson spend their money on fancy houses, cars, or other toys. Not Bodie, though.
He drives a truck that's probably at least five years old, and this house is nothing to write home about. I'm not surprised. He just doesn't seem like a frivolous guy, but that's not to say he won't throw money around. Him paying two thousand for us to have use of the room at The Wicked Horse speaks volumes.
I'd thrown one of Bodie's t-shirts on in the early morning hours after the last time we fucked, as well as slipped my panties back on. I'm totally comfortable in my nudity, but for whatever reason, I've never felt comfortable sleeping without some clothes on. Bodie teased me about it while he stayed completely naked when we finally decided to get some sleep. He told me that was the "soldier" in me, always wanting to be ready should danger sneak up and catch me unawares.
I hike Bodie's t-shirt up since it swallows me, and then pull my panties down. As I sit on the toilet, still a little groggy from the heavy and very comfortable sleep I had in his arms, my gaze lands on the crotch of my underwear that's stretched between my knees.
It takes me a moment to understand what I'm looking at, but once I do, I can't control the piercing shriek that comes out of my mouth.
"Bodie!"
I hastily grab toilet paper and wipe, my heart absolutely shriveling as it comes away with some light pink blood on it. Same color as the tiny spots in my panties.
Bodie comes crashing into the bathroom, still naked and hair sticking up all over the place. "What's wrong?"
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I just hold up the toilet paper and then look down to my panties while I stupidly sit on the toilet.
His keen eyes take it all in, and when his gaze lands on my panties, he hisses through his teeth. "Shit."
I can feel panic starting to rise, but then Bodie is gently pulling me up from the toilet. I toss the tissue in as Bodie squats to pull my panties up.
"Okay... we're not going to panic. Dr. Anchors said some light spotting is normal in the first trimester. Is this the first time you've seen blood?"
I'm completely mute so I just nod.
"Okay," he says. This time, there's an air of calm confidence in his tone. He takes me by the elbow and leads me to the bedroom. "Here's what we're going to do. We're going to get dressed and drive to Dr. Anchors' office. I'll call on the way there."
He releases his hold on me and starts to efficiently walk around and pick up our clothes. He hands me mine and has to give me a gentle push. "Get dressed, Rachel."
I finally move, the urgency of the situation penetrating the fog of my panicked thoughts. I manage to get dressed. By the time I'm tying my shoe laces, Bodie's standing by the door with his keys in his hand.
When I reach him, his hands go to my shoulders and he peers down at me. "Rachel... I'm sure everything is fine, okay?"
I nod, still not able to speak. All I can think about is China... gushing blood and horrible cramps and...
"Rachel," Bodie says a little louder, and I blink at him. "It will be okay."
I hear him.
I even understand him.
He's telling me that no matter what happens, it's going to be okay. It's a lovely sentiment, but one that he's so very wrong about. This is the biggest reason I've been so stressed about this pregnancy, because I was afraid I'd do something to ruin it.
What if this is because I went to Singapore? Or maybe it's the way I train and workout? Maybe I'm not eating the
right types of food, or what if... what if it's because of all the fucking I've been doing with Bodie? We've been exuberant to say the least.
"You hear me?" Bodie asks, getting so close our noses are almost touching.
I finally give a tiny cough, clear the fear from my throat, and whisper, "Okay."
"Good," he says before leaning in and pressing his lips to my forehead. "Now let's go see what's happening."
Bodie does an admirable job getting us to the doctor's office. Even though he's giving me an air of calm, I can tell by the way he pushes the speed limit and runs questionable yellow lights that he's worried.
When I tell the receptionist what's going on, we're immediately ushered into an exam room. Within five minutes, Dr. Anchors is there.
"Rachel... Bodie," he says as he walks in and goes straight to the sink. I'm already in a gown and on the examination table, ready to throw my feet in the stirrups. "I understand you have some spotting."
"It was in my underwear this morning," I say. To my embarrassment, Bodie grabs my panties from my pile of clothes and shows it to the doctor.
Dr. Anchors leans over and examines the blood while he puts gloves on. "Is that all?"
"Some on the toilet paper after I peed this morning," I choke out. "About the same amount, I think."
"All right, Rachel. Let's get you in the stirrups. I'm going to have a look." His voice is like Bodie's. Composed. Relaxed. Positive.
It doesn't calm me down at all, and I can feel my heartbeat ringing in my ears. My blood pressure was high when we came in, but the nurse took it again after I laid on the table, and it started to come down a little. She assured me it was probably stress.
I get in the stirrups and brace while Dr. Anchors gives me an examination. He even pulls a wand with a light attached to the table and shines it up inside. Surprisingly, he doesn't spend a lot of time down there.
When he pulls back, he says, "I don't see any cervical polyps, which can often be a source of spotting since they can get agitated from increased estrogen. But doesn't mean there wasn't one that was bleeding, but isn't right now."
He pulls his gloves off, and I take my feet out of the stirrups. Bodie helps me to sit up on the table.
When Dr. Anchors turns around, he asks, "Any cramping? Pain? Extra nausea?"
"No," I say with a shake of my head. "I feel fine."
"Well, spotting can come from many sources. It could have been from the vaginal ultrasound we did yesterday. It could come from sex, especially if it's vigorous."
Bodie and I exchange guilty looks.
"Let's do another vaginal ultrasound just to check the heartbeat. As long as that looks good, there's really nothing to do."
"Bed rest?" Bodie asks. I nod my head up and down enthusiastically over this suggestion. I'll sit on my ass in a bed for the next five months if I have to.
Dr. Anchors chuckles. "Most likely not. Let's see what the ultrasound shows, and then we'll make a plan."
Bodie and I walk out of Dr. Anchors' office, our hands clasped tightly together. I'm not sure at what point we joined them together, but it feels natural and necessary. We walk silently to his truck.
My heart rate has come down somewhat, and while I don't have the panic of impending grief bubbling inside of me, I'm still not quite assured.
Even though Dr. Anchors did his best to make us feel better. The baby's heartbeat is strong. There are many benign things that could cause spotting. Like he said... polyps, sex, the ultrasound wand. He told us that spotting of that amount was really not something to be worried about, but that I should take it easy for a few days and keep watch. He told me to return or go to the emergency room if I started cramping or bleeding heavily.
He gave me a pointed look when he described what he meant by heavy bleeding, because he knows I know exactly what that means since I've miscarried before.
"You okay?" Bodie asks as we reach the passenger side of his truck.
"Not really," I reply glumly. "That scared the shit out of me."
"Me too," he admits and for the first time, he allows me to see how this affected him. Prior to this moment, he was a rock. Solid to the core and exhibiting all the strength that would be needed for the worst news we could potentially get.
Bodie releases my hand to open the door, but I don't turn to get in. Instead, I look down at the pavement for a moment before I get up the nerve to look him in the eye. "Can I... um... think I can stay with you for a few days or you stay at my house? Just in case... you know... something happens?"
"Fuck yes," Bodie says on an expelled breath of relief that I'd ask such a thing. "Of course. I'm not going to leave you alone. Would you prefer to stay at my house or yours?"
"Mine if that's okay with you?" My voice is whisper soft. Fatigued even.
"Then that's what we'll do," he says as he takes my elbow to help me in the truck.
We go back to Bodie's house, and it takes him all of ten minutes to pack up a bag that will get him through the next few days. He's set to go on a security detail on Monday, but that's five days away. We agreed if all was fine with me, he'd go.
At my house, Bodie asks me if I'm hungry and surprisingly, I am. He takes charge of my kitchen and makes us breakfast. It's just a simple scrambled eggs and bacon meal, but I find myself so thoroughly drained from the stress of this morning that I do nothing more than sit at my kitchen island and watch him work.
While we eat, I take stock of the last few hours. I pay particular attention to the range of emotions that totally played havoc on me, and I realize something very, very important.
The depth of fear I felt today is the clearest of indications that I am attached to this baby. That knowledge is troubling, because it means my decisions have to be reevaluated. When I told Bodie I'd carry the baby and then he could raise it, it was because I hadn't felt much in the way of a bond. But that's certainly not the case now. I'm not even sure when it happened, or if it's just been building, but I knew I was in for a big spiral downward if I lost the baby today.
"What's wrong?" Bodie asks softly, and I look up at him. When I do, I feel a tear run down my cheek and realize I'm crying.
I drop my fork, and it clatters on the table. Pressing my face into my hands, I take a shuddering breath. I can hear Bodie's chair scrape along the floor, and then he's squatting by me.
When he gently pulls my hands away, I'm forced to look at his warm brown eyes filled with abject worry.
"What's wrong?" he repeats again.
I dash my tears away and suck in air through my nose. When I let it out, I bring Bodie into my circle of trust. "I've been pregnant before. And I miscarried. It was thirteen years ago."
"Oh, Rachel," Bodie breathes out with so much sorrow I can barely stand it. He takes my hands in his, and gives me a gentle squeeze. "I'm so sorry."
For a moment, I'm confused. I expected him to be angry upon learning this, but he just stares at me with open acceptance of my history.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," I say with a sniffle. "I was so afraid it was a bad omen for this pregnancy, and I didn't want to worry you. But I did tell Dr. Anchors about it."
"When you asked to speak to him privately on that first visit," he concludes.
"Yeah. He told me that a single miscarriage does not increase odds of another."
Bodie gives me a bright smile. "See... nothing to worry about."
I give a hard shake to my head. "I thought it was my fault. Still do to some extent even though doctors--Dr. Anchors included--have told me it wasn't."
"Why would you think it was?"
I take another deep breath. "I was living wild and dangerous. Doing stupid shit. I had just jumped off a tower in China and then miscarried later that day. I didn't even know I was pregnant."
"Jesus," Bodie murmurs, and then he's scooping me up out of the chair. I don't protest. I'm not sure if it makes me weak or not, but I lay my head on his shoulder while he carries me into the living room.
He drops down on
to the couch, keeping me on his lap. He cradles me like a child, and fresh tears swamp my eyes.
"Rachel?" Bodie murmurs with a question implicit in his tone. "Did the father of the child make you feel like it was your fault or something?"
I shake my head, giving an involuntarily sniffle. "He didn't even know. I wasn't with him all that long, and we broke up before for unrelated things."
"Okay," he says with relief, assured that some other asshole hadn't put those thoughts in my head.
It's so very strange. I know without a doubt had I miscarried today, Bodie would have never made me feel like shit. He told me it would all be okay no matter what, and built within that statement is a deep trust I have in him that it would--eventually--be okay.
He was so amazing today. Putting aside his own fears to be strong for me. To help make me strong.
No one has ever done that for me before.
"I've never been in a serious relationship before," I tell him while pressing my cheek to his chest. His one arm supports my back, the other stroking my thigh in a calming way. "I've never been good on committing to a person. Accepting the responsibility that comes with such a commitment."
"Think I figured that one out on my own," Bodie says dryly, and it makes me chuckle.
"It's why I don't think I'd be a good mom," I admit softly.
Bodie's entire body jerks and he rears back so he can look down at me. I tilt my face up to his, surprised to see anger there. "Just because you've never been in love with a man before doesn't mean you wouldn't love your child, Rachel. Those are two totally separate things."
"I was so scared this morning when I saw that blood," I admit. I lay it all out. "I didn't want to lose this baby. I don't know what that means. It's contrary to what I thought I wanted."
Bodie adjusts his body, shifting me slightly on his lap so we can look directly at each other. His eyes roam over my face for a moment, as if he's collecting the right words to say. Finally... when he says them... they hit me hard.
"Rachel... perhaps you need to give motherhood a try. I'd be here to help you out. We could do this as a team. I'm afraid if you don't, you are going to have regrets later that could potentially destroy you. And I don't want to see that happen. More importantly, I think you would be a fantastic mother. Our child will lose so much without you in its life."