29. Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Elsie
September 8 — 36 Weeks 1 Day, Winter Melon
E very morning for the past four weeks, I wake up and walk into an empty kitchen.
I’d never admit it out loud, but Marshall’s absence is messing with my head more than I would have expected.
You’d never know that two people are occupying the same space with the way he manages to both fill every corner of the apartment and yet still avoid me at every turn.
Our home is suddenly full of very helpful ghosts.
Ghosts who leave out breakfast for me every morning with my juice and supplements and who pack my lunch and put it next to my key, so I don’t forget it on my way to work. They keep the house tidy and organized, do the grocery shopping, make all of my meals, and attend to my every need .
But the whole time, the apartment remains eerily quiet and empty.
And lonely.
Every day for the past four weeks, it has been like this, and each little act of thoughtful kindness has my chest aching with a longing that feels foreign to me.
I’m not used to needing people.
It’s always felt wrong to need people.
But now, there’s a craving for one particular human that I can’t ignore.
The smell of breakfast hangs in the air, making me drool. Spotting a plate on the kitchen table full of mollettes, which reminds me of that first day when I told Marshall I was pregnant, I waddle over to sit down and begin my day.
As always, the newspaper is laid out next to my breakfast,juice, and supplements, but before I’m able to dig into my breakfast, the chime of my phone interrupts me.
Selene: I’m kidnapping you for brunch.
Elsie: What? Isn’t brunch later this month?
It’s a tradition within our friend group to gather for brunch once a month, but typically, we get together on the last Sunday of the month. Today is the first Sunday.
Selene: We’re adding another brunch then. It’s your birthday this week, and we’re celebrating today. Don’t fight me on this.
Elsie: Okay?
Selene: Just get dressed in something cute. I’ll be there in an hour to pick you up.
Knowing Selene, an hour could either mean 30 minutes or three hours. So, leaning on the side of caution, I quickly get up from the table and put my things away so that I can begin getting ready.
Waddling from the kitchen to my bedroom takes more effort than it used to, but once in the bathroom, I’m able to sink down onto the soft bench at the vanity.
Pulling out my makeup, I begin prepping my skin for foundation but am stopped in my tracks when I spot something in the mirror’s reflection.
I turn around to find a soft-looking plum-colored maxi dress hanging off the towel bar behind me. The dress is paired with an elegant, layered necklace and matching earrings that are hanging off the hook, and beneath the ensemble is a pair of flats with a cute floral pattern that matches the shade of the dress.
I don’t have to text him to know he did this.
I don’t want the confirmation that he would do something like this, nor do I want to know how it plays into whatever game he’s been playing with my head recently.
Ignoring the tightness in my chest, I turn back around and go about putting on my makeup and arranging my auburn curls into a more manageable pattern. However, every few minutes, my attention strays back to the outfit that has been so carefully put together for me, and the tension in my chest returns.
When I’m finished with my hair and makeup, I swing around to face my fabric nemesis.
“Just because it’s pretty doesn’t mean you have to wear it, Elsie,” I mutter, my hand reaching out to run the soft fabric through my fingers. “You have plenty of clothes to wear.”
Stomping my way into the closet, I go through the racks of clothes, searching for something suitable to wear for brunch in September.
Everything I pull out doesn’t feel quite right, though, and eventually, I cave and go back into the bathroom to continue my stand-off with the perfect plum dress.
“Fucking Marshall,” I grumble, taking the dress off the hanger and grabbing the accessories in my free hand.
Back in my closet, I pull out the maternity bra and underwear, which he annoyingly bought without asking my size, and somehow still got it right before pulling on the outfit.
When I turn to look at myself in the full-length mirror, my breath catches.
The empire waist of the dress highlights how my belly has grown in the past few months. Instead of wrestling with the little voice that tells me my changing figure is something to be ashamed of, I feel… beautiful. For the first time in months, I feel like the glowing, expectant mother everyone dreams of being.
“Do not cry, Elizabeth Iris Snow,” I say, tilting my head back to keep the tears from falling and ruining my carefully applied makeup. “Your foundation is $50. ”
When I’ve collected myself, I trudge slowly out of the closet and back to the living room to pack up my purse.
I’m scrolling through emails on my computer when Selene comes through the door, without knocking, might I add.
“Alright, mama. Let’s get you to brunch!” She says, waltzing into my living space where I’m propped on the couch with my computer on my belly. “Ready?”
I frown. “I’ve been ready for an hour, Selene.”
Before my eyes, I see her turn into a caricature of herself as she grimaces in apology. “Sorry. Got held up with something.”
“Fine. But you’re buying.” I grumble alongside my hungry stomach.
“Got it.” She smirks, helping me haul myself off the couch. “Cute outfit, by the way.”
“Thanks,” I grumble. “Marshall picked it out.”
“I like it. He has good taste.” She smiles. “Let’s go, mama.”
When we get downstairs, I spot Gunnar’s SUV idling in the parking lot.
“Chauffeur today?” I ask.
“Ugh.” Selene groans. “You get into one little fender bender two years ago, and suddenly, I’m not allowed to drive anywhere.”
“It’s sweet,” I say as she helps me waddle over to the car.
She sighs and opens the back door for me. “Yeah. It really is.”
Thankfully the SUV has handles that I use to struggle my 4’11” fat ass into the tall vehicle.
When I get settled into the seat, I look up to find Gunnar grinning at me.
“Morning.” He says with a deep chuckle.
“Oh, hush.” I snap halfheartedly. “You try being the size of a house and getting into this tank. ”
“Point taken.”
Once Selene gets herself settled into the passenger seat, we’re off. But when Gunnar pulls out of the parking lot, he starts heading in the wrong direction.
“Gunnar. The restaurant is in the other direction.” I say questioningly.
Selene turns around in her seat to face me. “We’re doing something a little different today.”
Her words are meant to be reassuring, but they only make me more suspicious.
When we roll up on the city’s most exclusive private country club—my father’s country club—my hackles rise.
“Selene?” I ask.
“Trust me.” She replies simply.
Gunnar pulls up into the roundabout at the front entrance, and an attendant opens the door for me.
I shuffle out of the SUV with the man’s assistance and look around, bracing myself to run into one of my father’s friends.
The club itself is gorgeous. Unfortunately, it brings back a slew of memories that are less than brilliant.
Every step I take further into the building has me even more on edge.
This is his domain, not mine. I’m not comfortable here, and yet I still shuffle after Selene and Gunnar as they lead me through the building to one of the salons that backs up against the back gardens.
Gunnar holds the door open for Selene and me to enter the room.
As I enter, there’s a chorus of “Surprise!” that rings out in the room from all of its occupants .
All around are people I care about. The room is covered from top to bottom with baby-related decor, streamers, and balloons. Gift-wrapped boxes and bags are piled high on a table against the back wall, while the table closest to the entrance is laden with snacks and drinks for everyone to partake in.
“A baby shower?” I ask, tears gathering in my eyes.
“Of course!” Selene replies with a laugh. “Marshall said you just hit 36 weeks! It’s about time we got our shit together and threw you a shower. Excuse me... stuff together.”
My eyes scan the crowd to find the man himself at the back of the room, away from the rest.
Our eyes lock, and for a second, the whole room falls away.
I want to go to him. I want him to hold me and tell me everything is okay, that this tension and distance between us that’s formed doesn’t need to be there anymore.
But I stay put.
“Come on, mama. Let’s get you settled, and we can start on the games!” Selene says.
When I’m settled in a chair at the front of the room, my shoulders relax as I take in everyone around me.
All of the Morgan family, the owners of The Playground, are here. Naomi, Bex, and Alvie are here, along with many others from the club.
I never expected such support from these people, but they’re here, nonetheless.
The next few hours pass in a blur. Baby games throw everyone into fits of laughter as people struggle to wrap baby dolls in diapers and people guess trivia questions about me and my pregnancy. I nearly cry when we go through the pile of gifts as Naomi, ever the studious one, documents each gift and who it came from. The whole party is a delight, and as time passes, I relax into the pure joy of the moment.
When everything begins to wrap up, and people say their goodbyes, a few friends stay behind to help transport gifts and food to cars.
I’ve felt Marshall’s presence all afternoon. His gaze has been on me the entire time, which is comforting and disturbing if I didn’t know him better. He’s kept his distance, though, which I’ve almost appreciated. However, there’s a part of me that still wants him to pull me close and tell me everything is going to be okay.
As we exit the Salon and are headed out to the car, a voice stops me in my tracks.
“Elizabeth?” His deep rumble echoes down the hall and rings through my skull like a gong.
I turn around, and immediately, my face goes pale at the sight of the older man in an impeccable suit.
“Father?”
“Elizabeth.” He says with a plastic smile, striding up to me confidently before stopping short.
His eyes grow wide as he takes me, in all of my pregnant glory, in.
“You’re pregnant.” He says shortly.
“I am.” I smile politely.
“I didn’t realize you had gotten married.” He ponders.
“I’m not,” I reply shortly, my frustration growing.
“Of course not.” He sighs. “Just another rebellion, of course. You never could do anything the right way, could you.”
The jab stings a little too much, and I shrink back at the barb, but suddenly, there’s a strong figure at my back .
“Sir.” Marshall’s voice rumbles from behind me as he wraps himself around me and extends his hand out to my father. “I’m Marshall. The dad.”
“Oh?” My father shakes his head. “Of course, you’d do this to me, Elizabeth. What a disappointment. Not only are you pregnant out of wedlock, but the father is this boy ?”
Marshall’s hand falls to his side, curling in a fist as he pulls it back.
“Father,” I say slowly. “You have no say over my life or my choices. If I’m a disappointment, then that’s your feelings to wrestle with. But I don’t live my life in accordance with your rules. I haven’t since I cut contact with you.”
“You mean your tantrum that you’ve been throwing? Right.” He scoffs. “Don’t forget who supported your naive dreams to get you where you are. Who helped you establish the company you’re throwing everything away for in favor of this pitiful life you’re bringing into the world? Such a shame.”
When I tense, Marshall’s hands come up to hold me around my shoulders, comforting me in the only way he can right now.
“Elsie, we need to go.” He says softly.
“Right…” I reply, tears in my eyes.
Marshall moves to turn me away to leave, but I only make it a few steps before my father speaks again.
“Such a shame.” Father tsks. “I would have thought you better than this, Elizabeth. Seeing you like this hurts me.”
“It hurts your ego, father.” I snap out. “That’s all.”
“Don’t disrespect me like that. You owe me everything.” He scoffs.
“I owe you nothing. ”
Father sighs. “You may think that now, but you’d be surprised how quickly your world can fall apart. How quickly things can be taken from you.”
He gives my body a long up and down.
“Children especially need to be protected from… well…” He glances over at Marshall, taking in his tall figure and all of his tattoos. “Threats.”
“Are you insinuating I’m unfit to be a parent?” I ask in disbelief. “That you would take my child from me because I’m unmarried? What a hypocrite. You were around just about as much as Mother was.”
“Don’t speak about your mother like that. It is a completely different situation, and you know it.” He lashes out. “Just be mindful of who you spend your time with. You never know how it may impact you. Or…” He glances down at where I have my hands protectively covering my belly. “Those you care about.”
With tears in my eyes, I turn and start to flee, and Marshall close behind me, his one stride matching every four or five of my waddles.
“No,” Marshall mutters, stopping in his tracks. “You know what?”
Marshall’s retreating footsteps have me turning just in time for me to see him land a left hook dead in my father’s face, making him stumble and fall to the floor.
“Make any more comments about Elsie being unfit to be a mother, and I’ll do much worse than a punch to the face.” Marshall asserts. “ Elsie is the best woman I know, and she’s going to be the most amazing parent, unlike you, you asshole.”
I stand there in shock as my father tries to gather himself to rise from the ground, but Marshall pushes him back down .
“You stay the fuck away from my family.” He growls.
For all the years of torment that my father put me through, I’ve never had anyone stand up for me like that.
“Let’s go, Elsie,” Marshall says quietly, shaking out his injured hand and placing it between my shoulder blades to guide me away. “I’m so sorry.”
I finally tear my gaze away from my father, still sprawled out on the floor, and look up at him.
“What for?” I ask, confusion lacing my tone.
“I didn’t know he’d be here.” He admits. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”
“ You planned this?” I say with a squeak. “The surprise shower? That was all you? I thought it was Selene or one of the girls.”
“I mean, they were a huge help.” Marshall shrugs, guiding me out of the building and to his truck. “But it was my idea to do it here. And now I’ve punched your dad...”
“Father.” I correct.
“Right, father. Well, my fist landed in his face, and I’m probably gonna get slapped with assault charges.”
I break out in a genuine laugh, knowing my father would never dare do such a thing for fear of drawing the attention of his friends to the shame of being punched to the ground.
“Marshall. There’s no way you could have known he would be here.” I sigh. “I never told you anything other than my fond memories here.”
“Still...” He bends down to lift me into the passenger seat of the truck without my usual objections.
I missed having his hands on me, and when he leans in to buckle my seatbelt, I shudder at his nearness. The musky natural scent of his cologne invades my space, and I gasp at the need it drives through my body.
The short drive home, I can’t help but shift uncomfortably in my seat. Need builds between my legs with every moment I spend in the car with Marshall until my body is screaming for his touch.
When we pull into the parking garage, and Marshall comes to help me out of the truck, his hands on my hips as he helps me lower down are like gasoline to my fire of desire.
Ignoring the feeling, I waddle to the elevator, making sure to plaster myself against the opposite wall from Marshall for fear of jumping him.
When we reach our floor, I scurry as quickly as I can away from him.
“I’m going to lay down for a nap,” I say as he sets down some of the gifts he brought up.
“Alright. I’ll bring the rest of the stuff up, then I think I need to go for a run.” He replies simply and turns before I can reply.
In the safety of my bedroom, I throw off my clothes and collapse on the bed.
But sleep doesn’t come. Instead, I toss and turn, listening to Marshall come in and out of the apartment as he unloads the truck and then finally leaving for his run.
With each passing moment, my need from earlier builds into a hot inferno at my core.
Guilt keeps me from satisfying my own needs, even though I need relief more than I need air at this point.
I keep remembering the look on Marshall’s face as he backed away from my father after punching him. How his muscles rippled underneath his layered shirts and his taught ass as he swung through on the punch .
Everything happened so quickly, but it truly was a noble moment.
About an hour passes before I give up on sleep and, knowing Marshall is out, slip out of my bedroom to grab a drink from the kitchen.
I’m rummaging through the fridge, looking for the homemade horchata Marshall makes for me, when I snap up and freeze at the sound of the front door opening.
“Please. Just go to your room.” I pray quietly.
“No luck, princess.” Marshall’s deep rumble comes from behind me.
Turning around slowly, I reveal my nakedness to the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.
Sweat drips down his face and glistens on his blissfully naked tattooed chest, the sight making my mouth water.
I need this man. Desperately .