Top Class (On Top Sequel)

{Prologue} Ivy

A few weeks later

"Rob! You're cooking sucks!" I yelled from the bathroom. I was on the floor with a wet wash cloth in my hands.

I had just thrown up... for the third fucking time today. Once in the middle of the night, again after breakfast and finally now... 50 minutes after I last threw up.

In my mind I mentally was telling Rob to go fuck himself as I placed the cool wash cloth over my head, zooning out from the bathroom for a moment.

"Just because it's not tacos does not mean my cooking is bad. So calm... oh my god Elle what's wrong?"

I took the white wash cloth off my face and glared daggers at Rob who stood over me, by the door way.

"I just got sick again. I blame your cooking." I retorted, turning back to my wash cloth. Rob kneelt down next to me and placed a hand over my forehead.

"You don't have a fever." He commented. I looked back up at him, giving him a look.

"Of course I have a fucking fever Rob I just threw up for the third time today." Rob shook his head, sitting down next to me.

"Have you felt fine other than throwing up?" I shrugged.

"Slightly dizzy and I'm tired. Let's face it Rob I have a fever. And you're cooking has something to do with it." Rob chuckled but then stared at me for a moment, thinking.

"What?" I asked. He gave me a strange look.

" Remember how you've been complaining about feeling fat?" I glared at him again.

"Oh yeah, let's start talking about my fucking weight while I sit on the floor nauseous. Smart fucking idea Rob."

Rob started to shake his head but I continued.

"You've got this down to a science. How to piss of your wife; Chapter 1: Comment on her fucking weight while she's sick. Nice fucking job Rob." Rob looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back something but at the last sentence, he looked back at me, obviously loosing it before saying:

"God damn it Elle you're fucking pregnant. It's obvious now you're going through morning sickness." I looked at my stomach and then back at him with a surprised expression.

"Well Fuck."

9 months later

*Ring* *Ring*'

"James get the phone." Rosie called from the living room. I dropped my pen and stood up from the desk where my fourth grader's tests lay and walked over to the phone that lay near the book shelf adjacent to my desk.

"Hello?"

"James? Hey it's Rob." There was noise coming from the background that I could not pick up well making me guess he was in a busy area.. maybe on a street?

"Hey Rob. What do you need?"

"Rosie." I looked at the wall with a puzzled expression.

"What do you need my wife for?"

"I don't need your wife. Elle does." I mentally rolled my eyes.

"Tell Elle that my wife is not leaving the house. She is bed rest until she goes to the hospital." Again there was a loud noise from the background.

"She needs to come to the hospital." Again I looked at the wall puzzled.

"Why?"

"Because my wife is having her baby and she wants Rosie over here now." Rob replied in a strained voice. I froze, wondering if I should go ahead and tell Rosie. If I did she would immediately go but I knew that was not a good idea. I stared at the wall thinking when I heard it again, this time very clear.