LEAH
A groan rolled out of my tired body. After silencing my alarm, I flipped over and threw my arm across the other side of the bed.
Like yesterday morning, it was stone cold.
I sighed and felt myself sink deep into the white sheets. Despite getting several hours of sleep, I was exhausted.
Every waking moment of the last few days I spent buried in either Foundation work or wedding plans. My mom and Isabelle called me non-stop.
Neither of them was quick to forgive me for such short notice. We'd only been engaged for a few weeks now, so I understood the mental whiplash of our decision to marry on Friday.
My dad ignored me for about half an hour after he learned the news. Then he called me back to say he cleared his work schedule and that I better decide now what color his boutonnière needed to be so he could get it in time.
Despite their grudges, my mother and Isabelle had both helped me find vendors for flowers, get dresses for them, hire a photographer, and order a cake.
I couldn't have done this without them and I was thrilled that this was all coming together.
Painstakingly, maybe. But I didn't care. I was drunk off happiness.
Of course, I was often depressed that my soon-to-be-husband was still gone. I wished he was here to plan with me or at least listen to me ramble about it. He was doing so well, though, and I knew he loved his career. I'd never want to take away from him doing things he loved.
By the end of the week, we'd officially be married.
I'd be a wife.
I'd be a Muller. What a bizarre thought.
On that note, I pushed the covers away and sat up in the bed. I ran my hands over my face and through the knots and kinks in my hair.
A wave of nausea rolled up my throat. I swallowed it back.
Damn wedding nerves.
I knew my anxiety had more to do with his witch of a mother. I had no doubts about James or how incredible of a husband he would be. I even knew what an incredible father he'd be someday.
His mother was just stubborn and unpredictable and kind of elitist. She had bad intentions toward me. I knew she had a right to be upset with me about Jarrod, but I wished she could let that go and be happy for her living son.
She was so hostile when we last talked. And what did she mean about my demons hurting him?
My head throbbed at the unwelcome memory and distress.
Were we rushing into this unnecessarily? Would we regret not having all of our loved ones present?
Then, I thought about what he said—how we could do a formal ceremony in the future. A lot of people did that these days. A delayed ceremony or reception didn't seem like such a bad idea.
All thoughts ceased as the nausea slammed into me again. I stumbled off the bed and hurried to the bathroom.
I barely made it to the sink in time for my stomach to dump its contents. My body seized with dry heaves until I regained control of my body.
Sighing tiredly, I cleaned my face and brushed my teeth. I looked directly at my reflection.
The soft skin under my eyes looked bruised and dark. My lips were chapped and one faint wrinkle lined the skin between my eyebrows. I ran a hand through my unruly, wavy hair.
Not exactly bride material, I thought, rolling my eyes.
I applied some eye ointment and moisturizer to my whole face. While I dressed in a loose and flowy dress, my phone rang. I saw my mother's name and answered it.
"Hey, Mom," I said.
"Hey, honey. The florist just got back to me. He can have your and Isabelle's bouquet in time."
"Oh, sweet," I said, already feeling lighter. "How much?"
"Don't worry about it. I already paid."
"Mom!"
She laughed. "What, honey? It's your wedding. I'm allowed to help pay."
"My elopement, technically," I said. "Or would it be a micro-wedding? Anyway, not the point. I told you not to pay for anything." I cleared my throat. "Just in case we decide to do, like, a real ceremony someday."
"Oh, Leah. You only live once," she said. "Your wedding day is special and should be unforgettable in whatever way is meaningful to you. But in the end, it really is only one day. You and James will have many more amazing days to come."
She chuckled.
"As much as I love your father, our wedding day wasn't the best of my life," she said, and I could imagine the teasing grin on her face. "Not even top two."
"Seriously? What beats your wedding day? You and Dad had a giant wedding!"
"Well, the first was the day you came into the world. But that's why I say, just do what makes you happy."
"What about number two?"
"Oh, just one night your father and I spent in Tuscany for our anniversary," she said, smiling widely. "You should have seen the way he was with me back in the day if you think we're too much now. He used to throw me over his shoulder and—"
"Mom, no more!" I said. "I'm traumatized enough as it is!"
Her cackle brought a smile to my face. I always wanted to share a life with someone like my parents did. They loved each other through all that life had thrown at them and never stopped putting each other first.
I felt like that future was very close in reach now. James and I got along so well that imagining a future with him was easy. I couldn't fathom trying to do it with anyone else.
"Now, listen here, hun," she told me. "Since you two are eloping and getting a head start on things, I'd like to get a head start on being a grandma, too. I still have a chance at being that young, hot grandma."
I laughed so hard that I started snorting and my stomach hurt.
Unfortunately, the violence of my laughter seemed to set off a chain reaction in my stomach. I stopped suddenly as bile rose in my throat.
"Oh, god." I scrambled back to the bathroom and threw myself at the toilet.
While I spewed corn-yellow fluid into the toilet from the depths of my inner being, a dozen memories of similar situations flooded my mind. There were many mornings I woke up so hungover I couldn't think breathe without vomiting.
I then became very aware of the fact that I did not have a single drop of alcohol last night.
"Oh my god," I whispered into the quiet of the bathroom.
"HELLO? LEAH!"
I startled at the quiet voice. Then I remembered my phone was still on the bed where I dropped it in my haste.
My mother must have thought I was getting murdered.
I sighed tiredly and wiped my mouth. I hoped I was wrong. We always used protection. There was no way I could be pregnant.
Once I reached my phone, I interrupted my mother's frantic rambling.
"I'm here, Ma," I grumbled.
"Lord, I thought you had a stroke."
I smiled a little. She was so dramatic.
"No," I said. "I guess I just have food poisoning or something."
"Why? What happened?"
"I've thrown up twice this morning." I cringed immediately, cursing myself for what was about to come.
"That right there is morning sickness, baby," she chirped. "You're pregnant. P-R-E-G-G-O. Thank god, I'm gonna be a hot young grandma!"
I laughed and fell back onto the bed. "I'm not pregnant. You know I'm still a virgin, Mother."
She snorted. "I remember the Danny days."
My face flushed as I cringed with force. "God, don't remind me."
"Eh. You've got much better things to do now. I've seen what your fiancé looks like."
"Mom!" I laughed.
"I'm just saying! Getting married doesn't make you blind, sweetheart," she said. "Besides, it's a lot easier to get knocked up than most women realize."
"I know a ton of people who have fertility issues. Is it bad that I kind of expect them, too?" Then I quickly shook my head. "Anyway, you're being too wishful. James and I aren't ready for kids. We've only just decided to get hitched, you know."
"You two will be great parents," she said, all nonchalance. "Do you remember your last cycle?"
"Well, yeah—" I stopped short.
Actually, I couldn't remember. I opened my calendar app and checked to see when I last marked it. Six weeks ago.
My stomach dropped. "Shit."
"Sounds like you better make a trip to the drugstore, missy."
I jumped, forgetting she was still on the line.
"Don't jinx me!"
"I don't have to do anything. Sounds like you've been doing it enough on your own." She chuckled at her pun.
"That was lame, for the record. Alright, I'll call you back later, you insane woman," I tutted. "Love you."
"I love you, too, honey. You better send me a photo of the test results or I'm not gonna believe you—just FYI."
"Yeah, yeah, bye."
As soon as we hung up, I raced across the hall to my bedroom. I threw open the bathroom door and dove into the cabinets under the sink.
There, buried in one of my old moving boxes full of toiletries, was a pregnancy test. I bought them a long time ago—after Jarrod kidnapped me.
The hospital ran all kinds of tests at the time, since they assumed he raped me, and determined I wasn't pregnant. Still, I was so paranoid for weeks after that there was even a slight chance.
I used the other two tests then and those additional negative tests assured me enough. I had completely forgotten about the last one until now.
Thank, God. I could determine that I wasn't pregnant and get over it.
I wanted to be a parent, especially with James, but we had so much going on right now.
Staring at the pink plastic stick in my hand, I swallowed hard.
What if this was positive? What the hell was I going to tell James? What if he didn't want it?
I could think of a few occasions he mentioned knocking me out, and he seemed pretty into it. But still—I wouldn't want him to feel rushed or pressured.
"Screw it," I muttered. "Let's get this over with."
I did my business, peed on the little fiber tab, and placed the test on a wad of tissue paper beside the sink.
I set a time on my phone and paced the bathroom for a minute. My stomach was bundled in a knot of nerves.
It was silly to get so worked up, but I couldn't help myself. I couldn't deny that a part of me wanted to see double pink lines.
A loud meow sounded from across the house. I startled at the noise and then rolled my eyes.
"Foxy," I groaned. "What have you done now?"
I considered ignoring her, but then I worried she got into something and hurt herself. I took one last look at the device before stomping out of the room.
"Foxy . . ." I called, peeking into the living room. "Are you okay, baby?"
Another, softer meow came from behind me. I turned to see the tiny, fluffy storm cloud pattern into the room.
"You scared me," I chastised her, scooping her up into my arms. "What were you hollering about? Hm?"
I checked her paws and tail before deciding she was unscathed.
"Demon spawn," I muttered, placing her back on the floor.
I padded back into the bedroom and returned to the bathroom. My eyes locked on the wad of paper I left on the counter just as my timer went off.
I frowned. Where did the test go?
Bending down, I checked under the sink to make sure the test hadn't just rolled off somehow. I checked the toilet bowl too, just in case. There was no sign of the damn thing anywhere.
Did I not leave it on the counter? Maybe I carried it with me into the kitchen without realizing.
If this was what pregnancy brain was like, I was screwed.
"Looking for this?"
I jumped away from the low, raspy voice and screeched. Spinning around, I froze.
Every muscle in my body became very still. The way a prey rabbit does when locked in the sights of a coyote or hawk.
His amber-colored eyes sparkled at me, full pink lips twisted in a sardonic smirk.
"Now, I know it's been a while," he said, voice light and teasing, "but don't hurt my feelings. I know you missed me."
My eyes scanned him slowly in disbelief. I think I was in shock.
His face was paler than I remembered and a closely trimmed beard emphasized the shape and fullness of his mouth. His hair was pinned at his nape in a small bun.
"What?" he asked, frowning. He ran a hand over his head. "Don't like the hair?"
His rusty eyes were so close—I could see the individual swirls of dark brows and golden yellows. His breath smelled of peppermint.
He stroked his free hand down the side of my face. A smile hung off the ends of his lips.
My vision narrowed suddenly and I sucked in a wheezing breath. His hands felt burning hot against me anywhere they couched.
A flutter of syllables swept across my lips.
"You're alive."