This Love is Ours

Chapter 72: Falling From the Stars

{Abigail}

I groan, lying on my back and staring up at the blank ceiling.

I'm in such discomfort right now, and I can't do anything about it.

It's Thursday, July 6, about 11:00 in the morning.

I've been up since 9:00, because I am experiencing brutal nausea right now.

And I have been, for the past two hours.

I woke up with it, and it's still here. It's not settling at all.

The worst part of it all, is that tomorrow, Pat and I are heading back to Buffalo for two weeks, so Patrick can be back home for at least part of the summer.

I know that traveling while pregnant, even if it's a quick flight, is going to be tough, but I also didn't expect to feel like this.

No matter what, there is no way I'm letting him cancel that trip. He has to go home for at least part of the summer, and I don't care how shitty I feel, it has to happen.

I take a deep breath, gripping the sheets on Patrick and my's bed tightly.

I watch the ceiling fan move around in circles, trying to get my mind off of the wave of nausea that has settled over me.

I'm just barely under seven months pregnant, but I am ready to get these two twins out of me, now.

My pregnancy hasn't been too bad as far as discomfort goes, but today, it's bad.

And my emotions are uncontrollable today. I'm a mixture of sad, confused, frustrated, and horny all at the same time.

Not a good mix.

Patrick woke up at around 10:30, and so right now, he's in the shower.

I am afraid that if I move, I will begin vomiting and so I am on bed-rest for now.

And it's killing me.

I hate not being able to move. I like walking around, but this is limiting me.

I close my eyes, and then I can feel myself begin to sweat.

Oh God, not again.

I've been going from either super sweaty to freezing for the past two hours.

I guess right now, I'm growing hotter again.

I run a hand through my hair that is greasy from sweating the whole night, and it hurts to even touch.

Gross.

I swallow, and my throat is swollen and dry.

I glance at the night table, and reach for my water, moving even the slightest bit.

I freeze, when I feel the contents of my stomach begin to move slightly.

Carefully, I lie back down.

Great. Now I can't even get my water without throwing up.

Right then, I hear the shower water turn off, and within a few moments, Pat makes his way out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist-down.

His hair is wet, and a few droplets of water drip down his toned abs, and then further into where the towel is covering.

I widen my eyes, biting my tongue.

Don't say anything stupid, Abigail, I warn myself.

My hormones are spiked right now, and I can't control what's to come out of my mouth.