Page 88 of Fighting For Light
“Morning,” he grunts, lifting a kettlebell from behind, working his tricep.
“Morning,” I sigh.
He grins and winks at me.
“There’s water on the stove ready for you if you want some tea. I didn’t want to wake you up, so I figured I would make us some breakfast when you were ready.”
“You? Cooking? Are you planning on making me a protein shake and some cut-up fruit?”
He grunts again and drops the large kettlebell before sitting on his bench.
“No,” he says, drawing the word out and wiping his brow. “I can cook…basic things. You know, like pancakes, and eggs, and bacon.”
“That sounds palatable,” I tell him, leaning against the door frame.
“Okay, I’ll get started on it.”
“No, no,” I tell him, holding up my hands. “Please finish your workout. It’s my favorite show.”
He laughs and drags the towel over his chest. “Well, sorry to disappoint. That was my last rep.”
I sigh and frown. “Next time, could you get me up?” I ask him, grinning.
He laughs. “Sure, baby, as long as you practice some of those breathing exercises. We have another class tomorrow.”
“Yippie,” I grumble and walk towards the kitchen.
“If that’s what we need to do to prepare, then that’s what we will do,” Kai says behind me.
I flip the stove on, wait for the kettle to boil the water, and toss some tea into a bag before dropping it into the mug. I’m trying to ignore the anxiety that rushed through me when Kai mentioned the class. I’m self-aware enough to recognize that it’s not the class giving me anxiety. It’s the…birthing part. Kai grabs my chin and tilts my face up.
“What’s up? Why did you shut down like that?” he asks, searching my eyes.
My eyes burn, and I want to slap myself for it. His hand holds my chin still, and my bottom lip wobbles.
“Baby,” he coos, letting me go and pulling me into a hug. I don’t even care that he’s sweaty.
I lay my cheek on his shoulder, and a sob rips through my throat. I could talk to my mom, maybe even Esmarie, but I don’t want them to know I’m scared. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to be completely ready for when the time comes, right?I cry into his shoulder as he holds me while we stand in the kitchen. He doesn’t keep asking me what’s wrong, he just holds me. He is my strength when I don’t know where to find mine.
“I’m scared,” I whisper into his skin.
“Of what, baby? I’ve got you. You’re safe,” he murmurs as he rubs my back.
I take a stuttered breath. “It sounds stupid, though.”
He pulls back, still holding on to me, and frowns. “Gem, there is nothing stupid between us. I don’t care if it’s a question you asked me five minutes ago, and I already gave you the answer. What’s on your mind?”
“I’m scared to have this baby. I’m afraid I won’t be strong enough. What if…promise me if something happens to me and you have to choose, choose him. Promise me,” I demand as tears stream down my face.
His eyes turn red, and tears line the edges, but they don’t fall. They rarely do.
“That’s not going to happen, but I promise,” he says, choking on the last word. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, and it’s all going to be okay, baby. You are strong. You are healthy. I pray for you every day, hoping He hears me. I might be beyond His ears, but you aren’t, so I ask anyway.”
“You’re not either,” I say, gripping onto him.
“This is probably not the best time to say this, but no time like the present.”
“What?” I mutter.
