The Checklist (Explicit Version)

Chapter 13

Mom went on about the people they met, and I couldn't help but study them. Mom and I did have similar traits. The same curved body, droopy nose and golden tan. But that's where our similarities ended. While my eyes were embarrassingly big, hers were sultry and a darker shade of brown than mine. Her hair was also wildly curly in comparison to my thick waves. We were around the same height, but she was probably an inch taller.

On the other hand, I barely looked like dad. He was paler than mom and I, and he had dark green eyes and light brown hair—which I always envied. Although shorter than Myles, he did have some upper body strength, so he wasn't completely slender. Being in their early-forties, my parents could pass off being at least ten years younger.

Ten minutes later, I breathed out in relief when mom started cleaning the table. I stood to help her, and Myles shocked me when he assisted in bringing plates to the kitchen.

I was ready to leave, but dad had other plans. The moment I neared the table again, he gently touched my wrist and sat me down next to him. He gave me a smile he's given me hundreds of times before. There was an ache in my chest I struggled to ignore.

"We've been meaning to tell you something, Als," he began, flickering his gaze over my head, where the open-concept kitchen stood. "But we wanted to tell you, face-to-face."

"Theo, I swear if you're going to tell her while I'm not there..."

Mom's threat hung in the air while Myles sat next to me. Underneath the table, he dropped a hand on my thigh, as if he knew I was seconds away from shaking again.

"Then come here, Diona." Dad playfully rolled his eyes before focusing on me again. "When we were travelling, all we could think about how boring our life would be when we came back. Work, eat, sleep. Repeat. Then your mom mentioned how we needed something."

Boring. Life would be boring when they came back home.

You're not enough for them, Thea.

I hadn't realized mom entered the dining room again, until he plopped herself on the seat across from me. She wore a big smile, but she tried to repress it by biting her lower lip. But as dad opened his mouth to continue the story, mom beat him to it.

She blurted, "I'm pregnant."

And everything fell silent.

My ears rang, and all I could do was look at my parents, who couldn't contain their excitement anymore. My parents, who didn't even want to be parents.

And they were pregnant. With a baby. On purpose.

Despite the haziness, I managed to catch dad explain, "We started trying again after the New Year, but we only found out a few weeks ago that your mom was eleven weeks along."

Mom laid a loving, gentle hand on her belly. "I'm fifteen weeks now."

Myles held onto my leg tighter, and I realized they were waiting for a reaction. But all I managed to do was stiffly smile. That seemed to be enough for them because dad went on a full story about how they can't wait to be parents again.

Again. As if they're no longer parents. Did they mean it like that? Or were they purposely trying to make me feel worse? No, they wouldn't do that, but I knew how they thought about me. An inconvenience.

I wasn't sure when I started blanking out, but it must have been over a minute of them talking because when I attempted to focus on the conversation again, they were talking about how they'd soon learn the gender of the baby.

"I'm sorry," I managed to hear through the ringing in my ears. I could recognize the deep, masculine voice anywhere. "But I have to head back. I've got an early morning tomorrow, and the drive..."