Scott — Our Bachelor/ette parties (1)

Scott — Our Bachelor/ette parties (1)
"Scottie, Kenny and the guys are here," Stacy's voice called to me and I snapped her journal shut, sticking it back in the closet where I found it.

It would look bad if she walked in on this, but I couldn't help it. It was the night before our wedding. I was going to make sure everything was special for her tomorrow if it killed me, but damn if I wasn't losing my shit.

I found the sonogram on the kitchen floor the day after dinner with my dad and the kids. Of course I already had my suspicions, but now there was proof.

"Shit, really? Wow, Sta—" her name died in my throat as her freak out in front of the restaurant came to mind.

She must have just found out. Her not telling me meant she wasn't ready to talk about it yet. So I kept my happiness to myself and slid the sonogram into her handbag when she wasn't looking after taking a photo of it for myself. I didn't want her to worry about losing it.

The next day I stumbled across a stack of pregnancy books in the built-in closet of one of the spare bedrooms. My whole world came to a standstill. The very room I stood in could be a nursery soon. I was going to be a father.

We really needed to stop using the spare bedrooms to hide shit from each other. It wasn't very smart, but time and again that was what we did. Surprises weren't much of thing in our house as a result. I spent all my free time reading alongside her. Not physically alongside her, of course, as I wasn't supposed to know yet.

She was fucking crazy. By day three, she had us reading five different books at the same time. That was what my girl did though. Even when she was scared, she prepared for things. I hoped it was putting her mind at ease.

Being a savant, she was much faster than me, so I had to spend more time hitting the books than her while still being present for the last minute wedding stuff. I also had to make sure I snuck my reading in while she was out or asleep, which wasn't ideal. Still, reading her little notes made me feel like we were in this together. I wanted to calm her down the way picking up her books calmed me, but she needed time to figure things out for herself. When she told me, I'd be ready for her.

You'd never know all this was going on in the background, because she had a permanent smile on her face during the days leading up to the wedding. She was the picture of contentment when we attended all the pre-wedding events she planned for us with Willow and her friends. I watched her like a hawk, ready to be there when she cracked, but nothing got her down. The only time she looked even remotely ready to tell me was when we fucked.

"We're getting married in two days, seven hours and three minutes," she said from beneath me after I fucked her that night.

I could see the gears moving in her head as she tried to make her mouth say different words. Neither of us were drinking at all the pre-wedding events. I took her to bed frequently, but never brought up her late period anymore. The sonogram I put in her handbag after she lost it. The last time I was up late reading and I put one of her bookmarks where I left off without thinking. The notes in her books were subtly changing. By day four, she was dotting her I's with hearts. Something she only did when she left notes for me.

You're too clever to have missed my little slips, baby. You know I'm reading too. You know I know, don't you?

"Am I supposed to be scared off by these constant reminders?" I asked her, kissing her lips as they spread out into a smile against mine. "Because I'm not scared, Stace. I told you, no one can make you a wife but me. It's way past time," I said, running a hand over her belly, just enough space between our lips for the words.

That wasn't very subtle on my part, but I wanted her to tell me so badly. She tensed under my touch momentarily, then relaxed and deepened the kiss.

No matter how much I tried to hint that it would be okay to tell me, she didn't budge.

That was how we got here, to the night before our wedding. My patience was wearing thin. So yes, I broke. I finally cracked open the journal I found alongside the books, hoping to get a sense of where she was at so I could figure out what to do.

It was one step too far, but I was convinced she fucking knew what was happening between us. If she didn't want me to see, the books would have disappeared alongside the journal the moment she figured it out. I was losing my shit. I had to fucking do something.

The pages of writing were not her baring her soul. Of course not. That wasn't her. I was met with extensive notes detailing her first prenatal visit. When her follow up visit was. The works. The words low risk pregnancy meant more to me than I knew they would. They were both fine. I breathed a sigh of relief at having the concerns I didn't know I had about her and the baby put to rest.

"Thanks for being such a freak, Kendrick," I said to no one in particular, smiling back at the closet before I left the bedroom. "Tell them I'll be right there," I called back to her.

One more day. That was all she was getting. After our wedding day, we had to talk. I didn't want the stress of her insecurities about parenthood or keeping this from me affecting her health or the baby's.