“It’s kind of like having a stomachache you can’t get rid of,” I explain, even if that doesn’t quite describe it. “I mean, it’s a muscle, you know that, right? A uterus?” He grimaces a little at the word but nods anyway. “So it cramps up. It tightens. And sometimes, it feels like there’s something kicking me half to death from the inside out.”

“That sounds like hell.”

“It’s even better that you’re supposed to walk around like everything is normal and you feel fine. And that’s only one symptom. You don’t want to hear about some of the other ones.”

“That really sucks.”

It’s definitely a surprise when he reaches out and places a hand on my stomach. “Do you need anything else? You didn’t really eat very much lunch.”

“I usually feel nauseous on my first day. Another lovely symptom. Besides…” My throat tightens up, and my tongue is heavy and clumsy. How am I supposed to have an appetite when I know what’s going to happen later?

“You know, I wanted to apologize for something.” He won’t look at me, just at my stomach, which he rubs in slow, gentle circles. It’s almost sweet. “When I let Deborah write on you after the wedding. That was wrong. I shouldn’t have let that happen. We should have never brought her home. Shit, we shouldn’t have invited her to the wedding.”

Am I hallucinating? Or did he seriously just say that? “For real? That’s what you’re apologizing for?”

“It was a shitty thing… and unnecessary. I’m sorry.”

“After everything you’ve done to me, you’re apologizing for that? That’s probably the least of what I’ve had to deal with.” I can’t help but laugh—quietly, gently since I’m still in that warm, fuzzy place the pills have taken me. I’m only dimly aware of how hilarious and sad it is at the same time, hearing him apologize for something so trivial in the grand scheme of things. Back before James came home, and things took this sickening twist? Yes, I would have appreciated an apology.

Now, I haven’t even given it a moment’s thought. It’s amazing how quickly perspectives can shift when all hell breaks loose and everything falls apart the way my life has the past several days.

CHAPTER 33

He expects me to wear this? I’m not even sure if I can figure out how to put it on. This so-called dress Nix dropped off in my room is so flimsy, it might as well not exist. “Trust me,” he muttered when all I could do was stare in a mixture of surprise and revulsion. “Just wear it and don’t make a big deal over having to. It’ll all be over after tonight.”