“Uh-huh.” I run the faucet and scoop up a little water with my hand to rinse out my mouth. I hate vomiting. Not that anyone likes vomiting, but I find it particularly distasteful. “I’m fine.”
“Was it something you ate?”
“No. I just…”
“You just what?”
Ethan is staring at me now, his forehead bunched up. He’s really worried about me. I could lie and blame it on the bologna sandwich, but I have to tell him eventually. May as well get it over with.
“There’s something I need to tell you, Ethan.”
His eyes darken. “Okay…”
Tell him. Just tell him, you wuss. What’s he going to do—fly into a furious rage, murder you, and bury your body in the snow?
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out.
His mouth falls open. The fork he had been holding clatters to the kitchen table. “You’re…”
“I’m so sorry. It wasn’t intentional, obviously. It just happened, you know? One of those things.” I’m rambling now, but I can’t help it. “I was using my birth control and… Did you know antibiotics keep birth control from working? I didn’t know that. And anyway, so, I just found out. Well, about a week ago. And I know we said we were going to wait two years, but…”
“Hang on.” He holds up a hand. “This is for sure? You’re definitely pregnant?”
I hang my head. “Yes. I… I’m sorry.”
“That’s so…” Ethan is quiet for a second, searching for the right words. I brace myself. “That’s so… great! That’s fantastic.”
I take a step back, trying to figure out if I’ve heard him right. “What? I thought you wanted to wait.”
“Well…” He scratches at the back of his neck. “I thought you wanted to wait. Honestly, I wanted to start a family right away, but I didn’t want to freak you out. I’ve already traveled and done all that stuff. But what I really want right now is to have a baby…” He reaches out to take both of my hands in his. “With you.”
It feels like an enormous boulder has been lifted off my shoulders. “You mean that? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
“No! Why do you think I’ve been wanting to buy a house? I want to fill it with kids!”
“Oh my God.” I squeeze his hands in mine. “This is such a relief. I thought you were going to be so angry when you found out.”
He raises an eyebrow. “When do I ever get angry with you?”
He has a point. He’s never angry with me. Annoyed sometimes, but he always seems even-tempered around me. But there was that phone call I overheard with his employee. Where he was screaming at the poor guy. But I can’t bring that up.
He chuckles. “No wonder you’ve been acting so nutty. It all makes sense now.”
I bristle slightly. I don’t think I’ve been acting that nutty. Although I suppose I did barricade the bedroom door at three in the morning.
“I’m going to throw out these eggs.” Ethan lifts the frying pan off the stove. “They obviously don’t agree with you. I’ll make you some toast.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
He leans over and kisses me on the tip of my nose. “Will you please let me take care of my pregnant wife?”
“Fine then.” I feel myself smiling. “Also, thank you for taking the portrait down again. It was really freaking me out.”
“Again?”
“Right.” I watch as he scrapes the partially cooked egg off the frying pan. “I assume you took it down again this morning.”
Ethan looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “No, I took it down last night. Remember? We were sitting together on the couch and it was freaking you out, so I took it down.”
“No.” My good mood is evaporating. “You said that you put it back up last night. Like, when you went down for water?”
“I never put it back up. Why would I do that?”
“Because you said you did!” Beads of sweat are sprouting on my palms. “At three in the morning, I asked you if you put the painting up again and you said you did!”
“No. You asked me if I moved it last night. And I said I did. I moved it when we were sitting on the couch. I took it down. You saw me take it down.”
Oh God. This is not what I needed to hear. “Ethan, last night when I went downstairs, the painting was back up. So if you didn’t do it, somebody else did.”