Grifter|| A Love Story||

12

"Don't you dare judge me!" The look on his face when he entered through the front door was judgment enough. His eyes darted around the tidied up living room, his bloodhound nose on alert. 

"Did you.....bleach?" He questioned, setting his leather-bound work bag next to the front door. "Did you…..holy shit, Lexie, it's spotless in here." He gaped, looking around and then his eyes landed on me. Sitting there on a stool, swallowed by my enormous ass the size of Texas, stuffing my face. 

"I'm 39 weeks pregnant, I'm nesting," I said through bites of Graham crackers, picking another one up and dipping it in icing. He stared more, walking forward with caution like I was a rabid animal about to attack him. Which in my hormonal, agitated state, I just might pounce on him at any given time. 

I raised an eyebrow again, "you're judging me," I said through a mouth full of sweet-sweet icing. 

"Not judging, just concerned," he retorted, coming around to me. He put his hands on my shoulders and gently massaged them in his hands. His lips caressed my cheek and he reached for a stick of Graham cracker too, dipping it into the icing. 

"Just like Layla used to make, huh?" I smiled at the memory of her making me this concoction and secretly sneaking some to Bas. Who of course had hidden himself in my room at the time. Layla always made extras, almost as if she knew the poor boy from the neighborhood was stowed away in my bedroom. How she expected me not to fall in love with him, I'll never know. 

"You better hope you don't give our sweet baby diabetes," I grumbled setting my food down onto the counter. 

"Fuck off," I teased with a laugh. He knew damn well what I ate all day. "I had my good fats, my proteins, my veggies, and fruits. I just needed something sweet after cleaning all day." He kissed the top of my head and wrapped his arms around me. 

"I know, you're so selfless. You take care of the baby better than yourself." He gently squeezed me in a warm embrace hanging onto me for dear life. My head leaned into him, fully embracing the love he enveloped around me. How could I have lucked out and ended up with him after all? 

I got to stay at home all day long, relax, and fully enjoy this pregnancy. Bas showered me with love and encouragement. He hopelessly sang to my stomach every night and every night the baby kicked at him. Probably since his singing never improved much, but it never stopped him. He was already the perfect man for me and for this baby inside of me. Which we refused to find out the gender too, his idea not mine. It was the last surprise in our relationship ever. Well---maybe there was one more. 

All-day I had been cleaning the house and I mean deep cleaning. Hands and knees kind of cleaning. Or well--getting down was the easy part, but getting up? That was a different story. I was like a turtle stuck on her back sometimes, but I managed. I scrubbed and scrubbed the tile floors, washed the baseboards, and made sure everything was spotless. I didn't want a single germ alive in my presence and my handy bleach made sure of that. And wouldn't you know, halfway through the process of cleaning, I started lightly cramping. Ever so slightly and I ignored it as best I could. But 3 hours of cleaning turned into 6 hours of cleaning and the cramping escalated into full-on contractions. The moment Bas wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug, my stomach turned into a heavy rock sending pain through my lower back and down my legs. My whole body froze with tension and I was surprised he hadn't freaked out yet. 

Not to mention ...I was wet. Not soaked---no. But a heavy stream of liquid was falling out of me at a steady pace, much like a leaky faucet would do. 

"Bas," I tried not to strain my voice. "Bas, I'm wet." I bit into my bottom lip, cringing from the over-exaggerated period cramp hardening my stomach muscles.