Love After Marriage (Forever After #2) (6 page)

Dad moved directly in my line of sight and spoke firmly. "Either way, if you’re like me, which I assume you are because you’re my son, you'll fix it. Whatever that sweet girl was crying about in that copy room, you'd better fix it before those sad tears turn to angry tears," he said, pointing at me. "You love her?"

His words jolted me, and I sat straighter in my seat. Of course I loved her.

Through the years, when Dad would lecture me, I’d never let him finish. I’d try to argue against whatever he was trying to say. Sometimes, I’d stare at the wall in front of me and tune him out. This time, I knew he was absolutely right. There was a reason he’d kept a marriage intact for thirty eight years.

I just replied to his question, simply. "Yeah, Dad. I love her more than anything."

He moved directly in front of me, leaning into my face.

"Then fix it," he said. "Before we see you for dinner tonight."

Point made.

* * *

B
eth
:

My body felt like it was overheating as I stripped off my suit jacket and undid a couple of buttons at the top of my silk shirt. The stuffy conference room made me feel as though I was in a concert, standing room only.

My stomach turned over with nausea, tiredness consumed me, and I was in a constant state of worry. But I could do nothing but stay in my seat at the head of the table as my team gave their monthly updates. Cold sweats crept up the back of my neck as my stomach flipped with unease.

My hands flew to my belly. Maybe if I held the baby, it would calm Little Em down.

My eyes flickered to my stomach, tuning out the noise in the background. I knew something beautiful was happening inside, but I couldn't be happy because I wasn't fully sure if Little Em was okay. I'd feel better once I saw the doctor. Until then, I doubted this unease would lighten.

I grabbed my water and gulped it back, thankful that Vivian was done with her presentation.

"Thank you, guys. Please email me your numbers today." I stood and braced the board room table, feeling unstable. A few stares flickered in my direction, but I smiled through it.

As soon as everyone left, it happened. The scent of someone's cologne heightened the churning in my gut and had me running down the hall, into the stall, and dropping to my knees. I threw up everything in my stomach until nothing was left and dry heaving took over.

After I stood, my hands braced the walls of the stall to keep myself steady. Hot tears formed behind my eyes. This was too much. All of it.

After one long calming breath, I composed myself and forced myself to leave the bathroom. The most awkward smile was plastered on my face as I strolled down the hall. Once I stepped into my office, I grabbed my purse and pivoted back around.

I shut my office door behind me and turned to my secretary, Amy. "Please cancel the rest of my meetings. I'm not feeling well today and will be heading home. Just call me on my cell if it’s an emergency and please let Jack know.”

Concern crossed her features. "Sure thing. I hope you feel better, Beth."

I nodded and rushed out the door. I couldn’t get out of the office fast enough. When I stepped outside, I inhaled deeply, filling my own and my baby's lungs with fresh air.

It didn't even take a few minutes before Dad called me to see if I was okay. I told him that I thought I had eaten something bad for lunch. After we hung up, I knew he'd call Kent.

Sure enough, before I even got out of the parking lot, Kent called me and I picked up via the car phone.

"Hey." His voice sounded concerned but was hushed with caution. I wondered if it was guilty concern, given how we'd ended our last conversation. "I heard you're not feeling well. You could’ve called me."

My fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter to keep me steady as my stomach flipped. "Sorry, I just needed to get out of there. I'm fine now. I think I just ate a bad lunch." I rolled down all the windows to ease the nausea. I really didn't want to clean vomit from my car. That would make an already bad day worse.

I listened to Kent's breathing as the quiet stretched between us. We both knew this wasn't about a bad lunch. The tension in our relationship was at an ultimate high.

"I'm coming home," he said.

"No, it's fine." I didn't want him to come home. I just wanted to be alone.

He sighed heavily on the other line, and then more silence filled my ears. After a few more beats, he spoke. "Okay, just call me if you need me. I'll be home right after work."

"See you then."

When he hung up, I slumped against the steering wheel, my whole body giving out. I wanted to tell him, “I do need you. I need you to tell me this will be okay. That the baby is going to be okay. That you want this baby, too. That we will survive this.”

During my ride home, my chest tightened into a knotted rope. The feeling only intensified as I stepped into the hallway of our condo. I dropped my bag and my laptop onto the floor and forced my whole body to relax by bringing deep breaths into my nose and exhaling through my mouth.

All this stress couldn't be good for the baby, so I needed to make a conscious effort to relax. My number one job was to take care of the tiny human life growing inside me.

The phone rang in the background, and I debated whether to answer it. Finally, I strolled toward the living room and picked up on the fourth ring.

"Beth?"

My mother-in-law's sweet voice filled my ears, and I pulled the phone closer. Hearing her alleviated the fear within me, even for just a moment. I didn't realize I needed comforting until her voice echoed through the receiver.

"Hi." I released a long, jagged sigh.

I was sure Dad had called her to tell her I wasn't well, and I appreciated it. If I hadn’t picked up, I was sure she'd try my cell next.

"Beth, hi honey. How’re you doing?"

Heat formed behind my eyes. I craved the tenderness in her tone. "I'm okay, just having stomach issues." I leaned against the wall for support, my upper body tensing as though the weight of the whole day was on my shoulders. I wanted to tell my mother-in-law so badly. My insides craved to tell someone else who would have been ecstatic for us, but first Kent and I needed to pass this hump.

"I can always come over and make my famous chicken noodle soup. It works wonders." She laughed. "Maybe we could do that instead of dinner tonight."

"No, it's okay. I'll be ready for dinner." Funny thing was her chicken noodle soup did work wonders, but it wouldn't cure this. I loved his family. They had accepted me when I was alone and when my own flesh and blood had hurt me. But at the end of the day, I couldn't complain to her about what was really bothering me——her son and our future.

"Is something wrong, honey?"

My hand flew to my stomach. To calm myself, the baby? Who knew?

Even though Karen Plack wasn't my biological mother, she always knew when I was upset and, although she didn't meddle, she always knew when Kent and I were arguing.

"No, I'm just not feeling well."

"Your stomach hurts? Maybe you're having a baby." She laughed lightheartedly.

I bit my cheek as a strong emotion coursed through me. Did she know? Although she’d never pressured us, she would joke around Kent and call it wishful thinking. There was no doubt she wanted grandchildren to spoil.

I kept my voice as steady as I could. "Wouldn't that be great?"

"Great? That would be more than great. That would be the best news of the century!"

My chest hurt, and a warmth pushed behind my eyes. I doubted my ability to keep it together any further on the phone. Damn hormones. "Mom, sorry I have to go. I think I just need to lay down."

"Okay, Beth, but don't worry. Babies will happen soon. We'll see you tonight."

"Thanks."

After she hung up, I dropped the phone and slid to the floor as tears fell down my cheeks. I don't think I've ever cried so much in my life as I had these last few days.

But when the crying fit stopped, I felt numb, not better. Sometimes, everyone needed a good cry, but nothing would curb this feeling I had inside, hoping my baby was okay, hoping Kent and I were okay.

There was no one I could talk to. If I told my best friend, Kendy, about our situation and how Kent had been acting, she would have his balls on a stick.

I’d never felt so alone.

I didn’t know how long I'd been sitting on the floor, staring at the tiny lines in our hardwood, but when I heard the door fly open, I stood and rushed to the kitchen to give myself something to do. But the sudden motion had me feeling unsteady, and I braced myself at the sink as the water ran between my fingertips.

Kent dropped his briefcase on the floor, the thud echoing in the kitchen. Anxiety crept up my throat, and a moment later I felt his presence behind me as I washed the morning dishes in the sink.

He kissed my cheek. "Hey. I couldn't stay at work, knowing you're feeling this way.” He started to massage my shoulders. "Are you still up for dinner tonight?"

When I froze at his touch, he dropped his hands and the air filled with uncomfortable silence. That silence seemed to be the norm between us recently.

"Yes. I'm fine," I lied, feeling horrible and bone tired. It took every effort to keep myself upright.

He stood there for a second, unmoving. My eyes focused on the running water in the sink, feeling the water rush past my fingertips.

After a beat, he kissed the top of my head. "I'll just change out of my suit." The hurt was evident behind his tone, and it gutted me.

My shoulders sank as a lump formed in the back of my throat. Would it always be like this? Was this what our relationship had come down to? Would this forever slump of fighting end?

I dried my hands and headed to the bathroom to fix my makeup.

Stopping at the mirror, I glanced at my reflection. The woman staring back at me had changed in the last week. There were bags under her eyes, her face was sunken, and her cheeks were without their natural luster. But it was her eyes that were the most different. Those eyes staring back at me, although they were the same emerald green that belonged to me, were the eyes of a woman I didn't recognize.

I had definitely lost weight, which made sense because everything I'd been putting in had been coming out. Squaring my shoulders, I observed her one last time. I felt a new determination rise up in me. Because something needed to change before I lost the woman I was completely.

B
eth
:

The Peninsula Hotel had the best food in the universe. In my former life, I could’ve stayed for brunch and dinner, ate everything at the buffet, and still ordered a few things off the menu. But not today. Not when the scent of grease from Kent's steak made me want to rush to the bathroom and throw up whatever was left in my stomach.

Dinner once a month had been a tradition my mother-in-law had started shortly after we were married. I was the first one to jump on the Peninsula meal train, always excited to spend time with my in-laws. But today was the exception. My body felt overly tired, and all my senses were heightened, especially my sense of smell, which only intensified the nausea. But I knew Mom and Dad would know something was wrong if I cancelled. Dad had already seen us fighting at the office, and I didn't want to add more worry to their lives.

"Do you want something different? You haven't touched your meal," Kent said, placing his hand on top of mine.

My fork poked at my uneaten Chicken Kiev on my plate "No." That one answer, simple but curt, had both Mom and Dad staring at each other before turning toward us.

Great. That look confirmed that my father-in-law had clued my mother-in-law in on what had happened in the office.

"Maybe something to drink?" Kent asked. "Sprite to ease your stomach?"

"No thank you." I forced my voice to lighten for my in-laws’ benefit, but my eyes dropped to my plate as I felt everyone's focus on me.

"Have you seen a doctor, dear? Maybe you're coming down with something." Mom spoke with concern.

"No, I'm pretty sure this stomach thing will pass," I said, peering up at her. I had researched on the internet that after three months, usually the morning sickness eased up. Though in my situation, it was the morning-noon-and-night sickness.

"Have you made an appointment with the doctor at all?" Kent leaned in and slid his chair closer to the table. "Aren't you supposed to see the doctor soon?"

I wasn't going to start our heated conversation in front of his parents, so I shot him a look and he piped down.

Mom furrowed her eyebrow, and her lips twitched into a smile. "Is there something we should know here, or something you want to tell us?"

Without warning, without even discussing it with me first, he surprised me by sharing the news all by himself.

Kent placed his hands on mine. A nervous smile touched his lips. "Yes. Mother, you're going to be a grandmother. We're pregnant."

My jaw tightened as Kent smirked as though this was the greatest news he'd ever heard and he hadn’t been sucker shocked and wasted the night before.

My face blushed red with rage. The heat that radiated from my cheeks could have lit a match. I had always planned on doing something a little cute to tell my in-laws that we were expecting——presenting them with baby booties and a heartwarming card. Never had I planned on blurting it out of the blue. The fact that Kent had spoiled another happy moment had my insides heating.

"Pregnant?" Karen drew closer to the table. She blinked and clasped her hands together. "Yes!" She shouted as though her favorite team had just made a touchdown. "Oh my goodness!" The cry of joy broke from her lips, and she fixed her gaze at the ceiling, raising her clasped hands. "Thank you, Jesus."

The next few seconds happened speedy fast. She stood, rushed around the table, and threw her arms around me. Her small frame clutched me tight with an embrace filled with such emotion that I stifled a cry in my throat.

Dad's smile widened and placed his hand on Kent's shoulder to congratulate him.

Mom framed my face. Her scent of cinnamon and warmth exuded from her every pore. "I'm so happy for you. For both of you and for us." She kissed my forehead before her hands flew to my stomach. "Hey, baby." When her eyes lined with unshed happy tears, I swallowed hard, willing myself not to fall apart.

She released me and glanced at her husband. "Jack...we're going to have a baby." Her face heightened in animation as though she had just met Santa Claus and he'd given her the best present in the world.

Dad reached for her hand and smiled as a look of adoration filled his face. "Sit down, honey. Give Beth some room to breathe."

She laughed and shook her head. "Of course." After she sat down, she lifted her napkin to the corner of her eyes. "Gosh, it's been almost two years and with our struggles with having babies, I thought maybe...because some fertility issues are hereditary, but I thought you and Kent may have been having problems, too."

His eyebrows pulled together, his face serious. "Mother, we weren't even trying to have children. I doubt you would call that struggling."

And there it was——Kent's honesty. Or should I say, rude honesty.

His mom’s mouth slipped slightly ajar, the smile no longer present on her beautiful features. I couldn't even bear to look at my husband.

My eyes locked eyes with Dad's. His jaw tensed as he probably realized that was the reason we had been fighting earlier today.

Dad's nostrils flared as he flipped toward his son. "Kent, don't be a jerk. You know how many people want to have a kid but can't?"

My gaze flickered toward his direction.

"What did I say?” He cocked his head then scratched at his temple. “I didn't mean to sound insensitive."

Total fail there, insensitive husband of mine.

Dad slammed his fist on the table. "Well, you were acting like your typical spoiled self."

Kent turned toward his mother, trying to redeem himself. "Mother, you said that you struggled for years. I'm just saying we didn't have a problem. If anything, it was a surprise."

I let out a long, jagged breath. Would this child know she wasn't wanted just as I had known growing up? Irritation rose within me, and I dropped my napkin on the table. My stomach was churning again. Who knew if it was from the hormones or the aggravation toward my husband. "Yep, a surprise. Or more an inconvenience, isn't it, Kent?"

My normal filter was long gone as another wave of nausea hit when the waiter passed with someone else's meal. Mom's face blanched, while Dad’s eyes stayed glued intently on Kent. I'd had enough.

"Sorry." I stood and stormed toward the bathroom, not looking behind me.

My heels clip-clopped against the marble floor as I pushed open the door and shuffled into the handicapped stall, hovering over the toilet, waiting for the next wave of nausea to hit me, but nothing came. Only an extreme wave of anguish hit, wreaking havoc on my emotional state. I backed up against the stall wall, staring intently at the white tile below me, wondering where I could go from here.

I didn't know how long I stared blankly at the floor when I heard Mom's voice break me from my trance. "Beth, honey? Are you in here?"

”Yes." I straightened and exited the stall. "Sorry. I... was getting queasy out there, but I’m feeling much better now." I forced a smile and headed to the sink to wash my hands.

Her eyebrows pulled together as she studied me through the mirror. When I was done and I had dried off, she took my hands in hers. "You don't have to pretend or feel like you need to handle this all yourself. I'm a mother, dear. I’ve been in your shoes."

Peering into her loved-filled eyes broke me, and the first of my tears fell down my face. "It's just so hard. I'm tired all the time and everything I eat comes right back out."

Her arms flew around me, holding me to her breast. "Oh, honey." Mom held me closer as the day's pent-up anxiety rushed out of me.

"I'm afraid the baby is not getting what it needs." I swiped at my falling tears. "And I don't know what I can do to help it."

Her hand rubbed up and down my back as I cried against her. I didn't realize how much I had needed this, how much I had needed to talk to someone who understood. This was all I had wanted from Kent, for him to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay. Instead, I was getting that from his mother. I basked in the comfort of her arms and wept loudly, letting everything out.

"Beth, I was throwing up throughout my whole pregnancy. I had Hyperemesis Gravidarum and had to be on an IV for liquids most of the time so I wouldn't get dehydrated. After all that trying to conceive, and then being sick throughout the pregnancy, I'd thought the world didn't want us to have children. That husband of yours had given me problems before he was a tiny embryo in my uterus."

I snuggled closer, feeling a weightlessness in her arms. I didn't realize how good it felt to be able to relate to someone. I didn't know I had all these pent up emotions. "Mom..." I sniffed. "He doesn't want the baby." Fresh tears burst from my eyes as I laid more of my problems out on the table.

She laughed. "Did he outright say that?"

I shook my head, no. But I didn't have to be a genius to read between the lines.

She kissed the top of my head. "But guess what? At one point, he didn't think marriage was for him, either. These Plack men, Kent in particular, don’t know what they want until it's right in front of them. It takes them a long time to realize what's good for them. Look at Jack. I've been telling him to retire already. Kent is ready and has everything under control. But do you think he’ll listen to me? Nope." Her hold tightened and with one hand she stroked my hair with affection. "Give him some time, Beth. Kent is a selfish man. You know this. What he doesn't want to do is share you. But..." She pulled back and cupped my face. The same warm chestnut eyes that Kent had stared back down at me. "You wait. Once he handles the fact that you are having his baby, his child, his love will multiply twofold. This is good for him because, if there's one thing having a child teaches you, it's to be unselfish." She framed my shoulders. "And watching your husband turn into a father is one of the most beautiful things you'll ever experience."

I sniffled. "But what if he never comes around?"

She shook her head as a small smile touched her lips. "It’s not ‘if’, honey. It’s ‘when’. It's just a matter of time. And yes, I gave him a good scolding out there. Just give him a little time for this to sink in. I swear he's just shell-shocked. Once he gets his mind locked onto something, it takes him awhile to switch directions." She huffed under her breath. "These men and their stubborn ways."

After a beat, she released me. "You ready? We'll get you some crackers and regular broth soup. None of this fancy seafood and meat stuff."

I nodded and smiled up at my mother-in-law. Her eyes held such wisdom, and my heart wanted to believe her words and that everything would work out in the end.

I had to believe it. It was all I had.

* * *

K
ent
:

"What the hell is wrong with you?" My father's voice boomed throughout the restaurant. Usually calm-natured, the beast was out and his whole focus was directed on me. He didn't care that he had everyone's attention. When did he care? I guess in that aspect, we were more the same than not.

"Father, calm down."

His nostrils flared. Wrong move on my part.

"You told her that, didn't you? You said you didn't want your own flesh and blood."

My posture turned rigid."Is that what you think of me? I would never..."

"So how did she get that idea? Did she make it up herself?" His tone raised with each word, causing a murmur throughout the room.

I ran one hand down my face and let out a shaky breath. "Fine..." One word was all it took to ignite my father's anger.

‘Fine’ was my admission that I was wrong. But instead of cutting me some slack, he pushed the dagger further into my chest.

"Do you know what she's going through? How much her body is changing? You understand she's growing another human life in her. Not any human life, but your blood." The pounding of his fist on the table caused our wine glasses to shake. "You think it's an easy thing? Do you?"

I shut my mouth. My father was never the type to hear me out. No, I never thought being pregnant was an easy thing. Yes, I was an insensitive jackass that had no filter and acted on impulse.

Did I believe that the excuse that I wasn't doing it on purpose was sufficient? Hell no. I knew that wasn't good enough. I was a grown ass adult. But every time I thought of the child growing inside of my wife, it only reminded me of what I lacked, which was everything that was needed to raise a child——patience, maturity, and the list went on. I wanted to talk to her about the baby without her being angry at me all the time, but everything that came out of my mouth recently seemed to infuriate her.

"Are you going to say anything?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but he went on with his lecture. "Has she even seen a doctor?"

I shifted in my seat. "Shit." Who knows if she'd seen a doctor. She hadn't answered my question when I asked her earlier.

My father slammed both palms on the table. "Shit? So you don't know? You haven't made an appointment? Or maybe she's been without you?"

I gritted my teeth, feeling like a teenager that stayed out way past curfew. Anything I said at this point wouldn't have mattered.

He went on and on, his mouth like a machine gun, firing bullets straight at me. When I was a teenager, I was able to tune him out and block out the noise, but not today. Maybe it was because everything he said was the absolute truth.