Page 12 of Faith Notes
Straightening, I cross my arms and offer her a bland look because that’s the old Harper talking, not the new one that has grown to be somewhat of a friend to me.
“Sorry,” she sighs. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I just—I don’t want to talk about me. Let’s talk about you. You’re having a baby.”
Conflict sits heavy on my shoulders. I know if Harper doesn’t want to talk about something, she isn’t going to, but I feel like I’m failing Nate by letting this go. But in the end, when she quirks her brow up and purses her lips, I let it go because I’ve learned that people figure things out when it’s time for them to and not a moment sooner.
So, with a shrug of my shoulder and a grin that’s hard to keep contained, I say, “Yeah, I am.”
Harper snorts, shaking her head. “I was serious earlier, Grayson. Nate would be happy for you.”
The words didn’t hit me the first time she said them, but this time, it’s like a freight train to my chest. Nate was my best friend, and when he died, it broke my heart. He always believed in me, and I never got to prove I could be someone.
But hearing Harper say those words feels a little like proving that.
“Thanks, Harper. And for what it’s worth, I think Nate would be proud of you.”
Dropping her head, she stares into her glass. “I’m not sure about that, but I’m working on it.”
“That’s all any of us can do—keep working on ourselves until we are happy with what we see in the mirror.”
Chapter 5
Georgia
15 Weeks
Puke is coming out of my nose.
IT’S COMING OUT OF MY NOSE.
I have never been so miserable in my life. I thought the puking was supposed to stop after the first trimester, but it’s not stopping. I’ve tried everything, too, but nothing seems to work.
The door to the bathroom bangs open, and I turn my head enough to see Grayson rush in. He has a pregnancy book in his hand, and I think if I could start a fire with my mind, that would be the first thing I would burn.
My husband—my grumpy, handsome husband—has been carrying that book around since the day after he found out I was pregnant. And at first, it was endearing—hot even. I mean, what girl doesn’t want to see a heavily tattooed man reading a book so he can understand all the things his wife’s body will go through while growing their baby? But after a while, that book became a headache.
Now, I can’t stand the sight of it.
“Are you okay?” Grayson’s voice is on the verge of hysterics.
Sighing, I stand on shaky legs and turn on the sink faucet. “Yeah, Gray. I’m fine.”
“The book says the puking should have stopped by now.”
My face flames with heat, and I have to grit my teeth to prevent me from losing my cool.
Turning my back to him, I brace my hip against the sink, still shaky from being unable to keep any food down, and grab my toothbrush and toothpaste.
“Maybe we should call the doctor.”
I can’t stop the eye roll.
“Grayson, that book doesn’t know everything,” I say around a mouth full of toothpaste.
“I know that.” He says it with such exaggerated patience that I nearly lose my mind. “That’s why I’m suggesting you call the doctor.”
Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him through the mirror. “You were at the same appointment I was. You heard her say that morning sickness doesn’t always end with the first trimester. Why are you being like this?”
“Me?” he asks, crossing his arms. The muscles underneath his tattoos flex, and for one single second, I forget why he’s on my nerves. Then he opens his mouth, and even his tattooed muscles cannot save him. “You’re being unreasonable.”
