Chapter 3
three
Rolling over, I blow out a deep breath. When the urge to vomit passes, sigh.
This is for the birds.
I’ve overheard people talking about how bad morning sickness can be. I’ve seen it in movies, yet I didn’t know it would suck this much. This is nothing compared to what I thought it would be.
Just think, some people have it even worse too.
Or at least that’s what I read when I looked up if vomiting this much during pregnancy is normal.
I could end it all right now if I wanted to. All I would have to do is go to a clinic and make a different choice, but my mind is made up.
I’m keeping this baby.
My hand drifts down to my stomach.
It’s crazy to think that a little human is growing inside of me right this minute. According to Google, at three months it’s about the size of a plum and has developed all of its major organs, and even though I can’t feel it yet, it’s moving inside of me.
Like an alien.
A beautiful blob of an alien that’s all mine…and his.
Brett.
I eye my phone.
I need to tell him. I almost did last night, but I was just so angry in the moment that I let my emotions get the best of me. He had no idea that my life was changing the moment he called. It wasn’t fair to act that way, but I can’t get a grip on my emotions.
He has the right to know, though. I don’t expect him to step up or anything, but he needs to know. After three years of sleeping together, I owe it to him. This isn’t something I can keep to myself. Besides, he will know once I start showing. The whole world will know then.
Just the thought of telling him, though, makes me nauseous again. I want to say he won’t be mad or yell at me, but I don’t know him that well. We sleep together. We don’t often chat about our life and shit. He could be unhinged.
I don’t get that vibe, though. Still, I’m not ready to tell him.
He can wait just a little longer.
My phone vibrates on my nightstand, and I grab it.
Irina
Meet me in my office.
Me
Okay.
Rolling onto my back, I drop my phone onto the bed next to me.
Shit.
I want to avoid Irina and my coaches as badly as I want to avoid Brett. Actually, I would rather tell Brett than them. If anything, it’s their disapproval that will cut deep. I know what they will say.
You can’t get on the ice.
While it’s safe to skate while pregnant for a while, I can’t jump, spin, or do any tricks, period. My feet have to stay firmly planted on the ground.
My heart aches at the thought of not being out there every day, pushing myself to be the best.
I have to face it, though. There’s no going back.
I force myself to get up and get ready for the day. The drive to the rink goes by quickly, and I head inside. Tears form in the corners of my eyes as I hear the sound of skates on fresh ice.
I can’t believe it’s going to be almost a year until I feel that feeling again.
It will be worth it, though. I have to believe it.
When I reach Irina’s door, I knock.
“Come in.”
Opening the door, I step inside and shut it behind me. “You wanted to see me?”
She looks up from her computer and nods. “Have a seat.”
On shaky legs, I move to the chair and do as she said.
“Did you go to the doctor?”
I lick my lips and nod. “I did.”
She raises a brow. “And.”
“I’m pregnant,” I say quietly.
Irina blinks once and then twice before shaking her head. “I’m sorry, I think I misheard you.”
My voice is even lower when I say, “You didn’t. I’m pregnant.”
A million emotions flash across her face as she shakes her head.
Sadness. Disappointment. Acceptance.
“You cannot continue to prepare for the Olympics. Or be on the ice.”
Looking down at my hands, I nod as I fight back the tears. “I know.”
“How did this even happen? I thought it was understood that mistakes like this weren’t to be made. Years of practice, time, and commitment, gone down the drain because you ‘messed up.’”
I can’t help but wince at her jab.
No, this wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did.
I can’t regret it.
I won’t.
“Are you keeping it?” she asks.
Taking a deep breath, I look her in her eyes. “Yes.”
Her chin dips once. “Okay. I don’t like it, but I understand. Children are a beautiful thing.”
Internally, I scoff. I would have never known she felt that way by her reaction.
“I need to know what you plan to do,” she continues.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
I already told her I plan on going through with the pregnancy and keeping the baby. What else could she mean? It’s over. That’s it.
“Are your Olympic dreams over, or do you plan on coming back as soon as you are cleared?” She drums her fingers on her desk.
“Are you prepared for more sleep deprivation and your body working against you? You’ll be able to work out while pregnant for a while, but when you get back on the ice, it will feel like you are starting from scratch. Are you prepared for that?”
I’m shocked.
“I can still compete?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes. It is possible if you are willing to put in the work. Are you?”
“Yes,” I tell her with no hesitation.
I have no idea how I will do it, but I will. I need to. I can’t let this dream fade. I’ve wanted it my entire life.
She smiles. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“Can I ask you a question?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I chew my bottom lip. “Do you think I can do it?”
Irina studies me for a moment before she dips her chin again. “Yes. You are one of the most dedicated skaters I’ve ever seen. You have a hunger for it that most don’t. I believe if anyone can do this, it would be you.”
“Thank you,” I tell her quietly.
“You realize we need to tell your coaches, yes?” Her hand reaches toward the phone.
“Can’t you do it for me?” I joke.
“How about we do it together?” she compromises.
That’s a shock on its own. Irina is usually all about making you do the hard stuff yourself. I’ll take whatever I can get from her.
I nod as she picks up the phone. As she makes the call, my legs begin to bounce. Before I know it, the coaching staff walks in.
“What is this?” Coach asks.
Irina looks at me before she looks at him. “Emery can no longer compete. She’s with child.”
All at once, the coaching staff explodes. Their angry and disappointed gazes drill into me, making my skin crawl.
Without thinking about it, I jump up and push my way out of the room, rushing down the hall.
I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here.
“Emery,” someone yells, but I don’t stop.
Someone grabs my arm, jerking me to a stop.
“Emery, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Brett demands.
“This is all your fault,” I cry out, slapping his chest.
Confusion fills his face, but it doesn’t stop him from pulling me into his arms and holding me as I cry.
“It’s all your fault!” she sobs.
I try to pull her into my arms, but she pushes me away.
“Don’t touch me!” she hisses.
“Em, what’s going on?” I ask, heart racing.
“I hate you,” she spews.
Her words strike me in the heart, but I refuse to let it show.
What the hell did I miss?
Her face is red as tears track down her face. I’ve never seen her look so distraught, and I want to fix it. I just don’t know how.
I came over here to watch her skate for a moment. I needed to see her doing something she loves. Something that I’ve been doing for years.
Like a moth to a flame, she draws me in, and I can’t keep away.
Now if only she would tell me what the hell is wrong.
“It’s all your fault!”
What the hell is my fault? What the hell did I do? I’ve hardly seen her, let alone talk to her. Or at least, it feels that way.
“Talk to me, Em,” I plead. “Tell me what I can do to fix this.”
Scoffing, she shakes her head. “You could go back eleven weeks and not come to my apartment. No, I take that back. I wish you could go back to when we first met and not approach me. I wish all of this never happened.” She waves her hand in front of me.
Her words make me feel like I’m being stabbed by a million knives.
Does she really mean that? Does she regret the last three years?
“I don’t understand,” I whisper, my heart breaking.
I could never wish her away. She’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and she won’t even commit to me. Maybe I’m that pathetic. I’m doomed to love those who can never love me back.
“Of course you wouldn’t.” She laughs sarcastically.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I beg her.
“What’s wrong is that you came into my life,” she spits at me.
I suck in a breath as I look away from her.
I don’t know how I could have been so wrong about her. I should have seen it coming. Hell, I knew this was coming, I was just hoping it wouldn’t.
The idea of walking away from her kills me, but I’ll do it. I’ll do anything if it means making her happy and never seeing her cry.
I nod as I clear my throat, fighting back my emotions. “Okay, I’ll leave.”
She sucks in a breath, eyes widening.
“But just know, I’m doing this because you asked me to. Not because I want to.”
“Brett,” she whispers, but I shake my head.
“The last thing I want to do is cause you pain, and I’m clearly doing that by being here. Just know if you need me, I’m only a phone call away.”
Turning, I start to walk away.
“Wait!” she calls out, making me stop.
I close my eyes as I feel her approach me from behind.
“Are you busy?” she asks.
“No.”
I need to get to practice, but that can wait. Especially if it means she will tell me why she keeps yo-yoing emotionally.
She shakes her head as she frowns. “Wait, you have practice.”
Part of me likes that she knows that.
“I can skip,” I say without hesitation.
It’s not like I’m on the ice anyway.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I say with determination.
Her shoulders draw up as she takes a deep breath. “Will you go back to my place with me? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Do you want to ride with me?”
She shakes her head slowly. “No, I’ll need my car later.”
“Okay, I’ll follow you. Do you need to grab your bag?”
She shakes her head again. “No, I didn’t bring it.”
Weird, she always has her bag when she comes to the rink. We all do. How else would we carry around all of our gear?
Maybe she skated earlier and just stopped by to talk to the coaching staff? She usually practices at this time, though.
Annnd now I sound like a stalker.
Ignoring my thoughts, I give her my attention. I follow her out to the parking lot and get in my car. As I follow her to her apartment, my mind races. I’ve known Emery for three years, and I’ve never seen her like this. Not once has she ever taken her anger out on me like she has recently.
Something’s wrong. There has to be something wrong.
Yeah, but what?
Is she hurt? Did she get some kind of injury and she’s worried about what it means?
No, if that were the case, she would have come to me sooner. She was there when I got hurt, and I would like to think she would know that she can lean on me if it was that.
Did she get bad news about the trials coming up?
As soon as that thought enters my mind, I push it to the side. It can’t be that. Emery is a fucking shoo-in for the Olympics. She’s one of the hardest workers I’ve ever met. She has everything it takes to make it and bring home the gold. The committee would be stupid not to ask her to join.
What if it’s nothing to do with skating?
Could she be sick?
I shake my head. No, it can’t be. She hasn’t lost weight, at least it doesn’t seem like she has. While she might be a little paler than she normally is, that could just be chalked up to not spending much time outside lately.
What the hell is going on?
I’m driving myself nuts with “what-ifs” the entire drive over.
Emery parks in her designated parking spot, and I move a little further down until I find an open spot meant for visitors.
As I put my car in park, my phone vibrates. Grabbing it out of my pocket, I check the screen.
Kellan
Where the hell are you?
Wyatt
Coach is asking.
Me
Shit, will you tell him I had an appointment? I’ll meet with him later.
Fuck, how did I forget to text them to ask them to cover for me?
Kellan
Will do. Everything okay?
Me
Yeah, it will be.
Wyatt
See you at home.
Darkening the screen, I slip it back into my pocket and get out of the car. Locking the door, I start walking her way.
Emery stands at the base of the stairs with her arms wrapped around herself. Even when she’s battling something internally, she’s fucking beautiful.
Beautiful and mine.
I hope. I’ve been hoping she would be mine for three fucking years. Fuck, I hope she doesn’t make me walk away from her for good.
“You didn’t have to wait for me,” I tell her.
“I wanted to.” She licks her bottom lip. “Ready?”
“Lead the way.”
As she walks up the stairs in front of me, I can’t help but hope that she isn’t about to blow my world into pieces.