Page 75 of Delayed Penalty

They, of course, tried to reach out to my mom—and so did Kelly—but she declined to come to the baby shower because she said she didn’t want to celebrate my shitty decisions.

I never told anyone what went down with Peter the week before I left… maybe if they knew, they’d understand it had just become too much for me to handle, too much for me to turn a blind eye on.

When he came home super drunk and started to yell at me, it was like I didn’t even recognize him. I couldn’t figure out what had gotten him so angry, especially since he had just come home from dinner with his parents.

Usually that put him in a good mood, so this was unusual. It got even weirder when he mentioned us getting married and something about a property. I tried to understand it but then he stepped even closer to me, and I got uncomfortable.

The moment I turned to walk away, he grabbed my arm, holding me still with a grip just tight enough to sting, promising a bruise tomorrow. It only lasted a moment as he berated me for being useless, another fight he’d forget in the morning. Whether he didn’t remember, or he was choosing to ignore his horrible behavior I’m not exactly sure, but I chose to believe he had no memory of being such a piece of shit.

It made it much easier to not poison his coffee.

Orange has never been my color.

If my family knew this, I know they would understand—at least, I hope they would. Kelly, for sure would, but I would actually be concerned she might run him over or something. Same with Harris, so I’ve pretty much kept it to myself.

I’m not even sure why, I guess it just never came up and now, I’m just too nervous to bring it up. Maybe sometime.

“How much longer do you have?” Cassie asks as she bring me over another cup of lemonade. I’ve still been on a lemonade kick, the more sour the better. It’s been a relief not throwing up these last few weeks, at least making that portion of the pregnancy better.

It’s been exhausting growing this baby, but we’re finally in the home stretch.

“I have six weeks left, almost five. I’ll be thirty-five weeks on Monday,” I say, hardly believing we are this close to meeting this little boy.

We haven’t picked out a name yet, we’ve been trying to choose between a couple but I think at this point, we are just hoping that when we meet him we feel such a strong connection the name will come easily. That’s how it works, right?

“You’re getting so close!” Cassie says excitedly. “I can’t wait to be pregnant. Okay, that’s a lie. Right now, I can. I thought I was ready, but honestly I want to enjoy Max for a little bit longer now that we are back together.”

“Oh, that’s right, didn’t you guys date in high school?”

She beams, but shakes her head no. “We were best friends who shared a night together, but we both know that’s when we fell in love. We just needed to grow up a bit more before we could accept it.”

“I understand that, all right.” I laugh.

“But you two are good?”

“Perfect, honestly,” I tell her, setting my glass down on the table in front of me and messing with my ring. My fingers have been swelling a bit these last few days, which I’m sure just has to do with the fact my entire body is swelling, but this ring is getting closer and closer to not being able to fit on my sausage fingers. I know it can be normal, so I’ve just been trying to drink water but between the swelling and my headache today, it’s making me even more frustrated to be at a party dressed up and not laying on the couch in a pair of sweats.

Especially because I just want a nap.

“You okay?” Cassie asks.

“Yeah, my fingers have just been swelling,” I tell her, right as Harris’s mom and Gwen make their way over, Harris’s momimmediately wrapping me in another hug. She’s been such a big support system through this process, answering dumb questions for me through text, easing my nerves when she can, and overall, just being someone I can count on, which is more that I can say for my own mother.

“Did I hear you say you were swelling?” Gwen asks, her eyes scrunched as she looks at me, eyes scanning down my body as she looks at my hands then my calves and ankles.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Uh, I just noticed it a couple of days ago. I figured I’d talk to my doctor on Tuesday.”

“Have you checked your blood pressure?” Gwen asks, her tone getting a little more serious and I can see Harris’s mom immediately get concerned.

What the heck are they so worried about?

“No?”

“Hold, please,” Gwen says before scurrying off to her bag and coming back with a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope. Getting my position how she wants, sitting down with my feet flat, she checks my blood pressure.

The cuff squeezes tightly, every pump of air making it tighter and tighter, but once the air lets out its immediate relief.

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