FORTY-FIVE

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HER

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con•ster•na•tion
noun
1. feelings of anxiety or dismay, typically at something unexpected

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The hazy memory of my interaction with Ethan puts a smile on my lips as the suns rays peek through the small opening between the curtains. I run my hands under the cool side of my pillow and stretch, frowning when I don't feel his warm body amongst the wrinkled covers.

Sitting up in bed, I run a hand through my hair and glance at the alarm clock resting on the nightstand. He should be home by now.

I slide out of bed with a huff and instinctively run a hand along my protruding stomach. A deep ache stems from my lower back and I frown at the discomfort. After stretching and letting out a yawn, the feeling goes away and I make my way into the living room.

His soft snoring is the first thing I hear as I approach the couch that his long body is draped across. The blanket that was intended to keep him warm falls in a puddle on the floor, keeping more of his discarded shoes warm than his actual body.

It's impressive how he managed to contort his form to sleep on such a small couch. One leg bent, the other outstretched, his crumpled cotton t-shirt rides up his toned abdomen as his arm drapes over his eyes. My eyes flit briefly back to the fading tan skin that peeks from under his basketball shorts as a heat climbs up my neck.

Gulping, I bite my lower lip and force my racing heart to slow. "Ethan," I whisper as I rock gently on my heels. When he doesn't answer, I raise my voice a little. "Ethan."

His snoring quiets as his mouth twitches. He groans, turning on his side and pressing his face into the arm of the couch. "Mmm," he says when I place a hesitant hand on his toned shoulder.

"Ethan you can come get in the bed if you want." My heart catches in my throat when he turns and glances up at me with those smoky blue eyes.

"You coming too?" he asks, his voice thick from sleep, a hint of something else lacing his tone.

I shake my head, glancing at a spot behind the couch. "I um, I have a meeting with Josh and my lawyer in an hour."

"Then I'm good," he mumbles kissing the skin on my wrist before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "Be safe, Imani. It's raining kind of hard out there."

"You know what that means," I say, a half smile tugging at my lips as I drape the blanket over his body. Lowering my voice to a whisper, I bring my lips close to his ear. "Good sleep."

Tiny goosebumps pepper his skin as he yawns softly. "Oh, you don't have to worry about me..." His voice trails off as his face relaxes and his snoring resumes.

I shake my head, smiling softly as I lightly peck his cheek. "Sweet dreams, Ethan."

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My windshield wipers work in overdrive as my truck slices through the rain. The highway in front of me blurs slightly as I pick up my speed, once again cursing my pregnancy brain for getting the meeting times wrong.

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