Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Gian was worried—that was the problem. It wasn’t something he was willing to say out loud because the last thing that man ever did was say something that might upset her. But he was worried that Cara wasn’t getting enough to eat because she couldn’t keep anything down for longer than twenty minutes. And when she wasn’t throwing up what she was eating, she wasn’t very interested in food at all.
And if she wasn’t eating ... then the baby wasn’t getting nutrition, either.
So, the doctor it was.
“See baby?” Marcus asked, his eyes lighting up.
She didn’t think her son really understood the whole process of the baby, and what was happening. All he knew was that he was getting a baby brother or sister. And to him, a baby meant something that was already small and tangible. Like his friend’s mother who had a one-year-old son that was still crawling, and not really babbling just yet other than the usual one syllable words. He didn’t understand that his baby brother or sister wouldn’t already be crawling and babbling at all when they were first born.
Cara didn’t want to ruin his excitement by trying to explain something a kid his age didn’t understand, anyway.
Cara grinned, too. “I don’t know if we’re going to see the baby today. Maybe, though.”
“Still not better, then?”
At the sound of her husband’s voice coming from the living room doorway, Cara let out a sigh of relief. Not that she couldn’t handle Marcus because she could ... but when she felt like any second, she was about to spew vomit all over the floor, having Gian around as a backup for their son really helped.
She glanced her husband’s way, and offered him a tiny smile. “Not really, no.”
Gian did his best to smile back, but it didn’t matter, really. Cara could still see the worry in his eyes. He was quick to cross the room, and kneel down beside where she was resting on the couch. One of his hands came up to stroke her hairline as he leaned in, and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. For the moment, she was content to just sit there and enjoy the feeling of him close. No matter what, that always made her feel better.
And then just as fast as she was feeling good again, the need to vomit rose up faster than she could even take in a breath. Cara barely managed to sit up in time on the couch, but Gian already had the garbage can from underneath the side table sat down in front of her, ready to be used.
He was good that way.
Quick that way.
And while some men might have picked up the toddler and headed out of the room to leave their wife to handle her own business, he stayed right there. Stroking her back, her hair, and then her face, too, when she finally finished spilling her bit of breakfast into the trashcan.
God.
“I’m fine,” she mumbled.
“You’re really not,” he returned.
“I feel like trash.”
Gian chuckled. “And yet, you look like anything but, mia cara bella.”
Yes, his beautiful daring. Even when she was throwing up, looked like hell, and could barely manage to get off the couch. Even at her worst, she was still beautiful to him.
God, she loved this man.
*
“Marcus, come see Papa,” Gian murmured, kneeling down to take his son’s attention away from the row of pamphlets someone had left on the desk inside the doctor’s office. Happily, their toddler left the items alone to do as his father wanted. Once Gian had Marcus in his arms, he stood and turned to Cara. “Feeling any better?”
She let out a slow breath, and nodded. “That medication helped.”
The doctor finally agreed that clearly, her morning sickness was not waning. And it was very possible she was dealing with a rare type of morning sickness that wouldn’t wane, either, and would only continue to get worse. To avoid possible hospitalization when her body wasn’t getting enough nutrients, the doctor settled on an anti-nausea medication that was safe to use during pregnancy.
Thirty minutes after taking the meds, and Cara could watch her son dart around the room without feeling like she was going to puke all over the place. Small miracles were everywhere, apparently.
“Good.”
Before they could say anything else, the door opened, and Dr. Candel strolled in with his gaze drifting over the paperwork he held in his hands. “Cara, we’re sure of your conception date, aren’t we?”
Cara glanced at Gian. “I know when I got pregnant.”
This pregnancy was planned as much as any fucking pregnancy could be planned. She’d tracked her cycles, knew when she was fertile, and somehow, they managed to get pregnant that first month trying.
“But you’re sure—”
“I know when I got pregnant,” Cara repeated dully.
“Your hormone levels for pregnancy are ... five times higher than they should be,” the doctor said quietly, glancing up to meet her confused gaze. “I can tell you don’t know what that means.”