Page 113 of The Affair
She took me up on the suggestion, carefully placing herself atop one of the heavy wooden stools at the center island. “This never gets easier,” she admitted, placing a hand on her swollen belly.
Her round stomach was an odd juxtaposition to the rest of her small frame, and I wondered how she’d managed to do this two times before.
“Are you feeling okay?”
She nodded. “Mostly. Although food is sometimes touch and go. I get nauseous a lot.”
“But I thought that all went away after the first trimester? Or am I wrong?”
“It usually does, but this little one seems to be hell-bent on giving me morning sickness for the entire nine months.”
“Wow,” I said, not knowing how to respond. “That sucks.”
The words made my heart flutter, reminding me of a similar conversation I’d had with Sawyer. It felt like a lifetime ago, but I couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes, it really was the only appropriate thing to say.
“Decaf?” I followed up with, having learned my way around my brother’s kitchen over the last few weeks.
“Yes, that would be great.”
I began the process of measuring out the coffee grounds. No K-cups for my brother. This was the real thing, and the behemoth of a machine practically required a barista from Starbucks to operate it. Luckily, I’d been here a while and figured it out.
“I heard you talking with Jack just now.”
“Oh,” I faltered, suddenly feeling like a bigger ass than I had before. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” she replied. “I know he can be a bit much.”
Her words surprised me. Honestly, any words out of her mouth directed at me shocked me a little. For as long as I’d known Bethany, this was the most we’d ever spoken.
“And you’re right,” she added. “He does throw his money around as a solution for most things.”
“He’s just trying to help,” I said, wishing I’d told my brother the same thing.
“Sometimes, I think it’s the only way he thinks he can help.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Jack is different,” she said. “I’m sure that isn’t a shock.”
“You mean, my brother Jack, who used to prefer documentaries over cartoons—at age four?”
She laughed a little, something I was wholly unprepared for.Were we bonding?
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“He’s always been a little different.”
“It’s one of the things I love the most about him—his brilliance and how he sees the world. He’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, but sometimes, I think it hinders him.”
“How so?”
She seemed to ponder her words for a moment before replying, “Did you know I was his first friend in college? Before we met, he used to spend his weekends locked in his dorm room, doing homework.”
“That sounds about right,” I answered, remembering all the times I’d seen him do the exact same thing in high school.
“He was lonely. So lonely,” she said. “But he was terrified to do anything about it. He’s never been great with people.”
“Until he met you?” I ventured a guess.
