She woke up early, the heavy presence in her bed and the morning light made it difficult to stay asleep. Vincent didn’t seem to have that problem. She tried to rouse him, but he just grumbled at her without opening his eyes and turned away from her. He’d probably be more responsive later in the day.
Jacqueline got up and left him alone in her bedroom. She considered making breakfast, but she was a terrible cook and anyway she didn’t have any ingredients in the house. Instead, she sat at her kitchen table and scrolled through her phone, looking for breakfast delivery. She was doubtful about even doing that much, she didn’t know what Vincent normally liked, let alone what he liked when he was hungover.
Vincent saved her the trouble of trying to come up with anything. He padded out of her room and took a seat across from her at the table. His forehead had a sheen of sweat, probably because it had been a hot night and he’d slept in his clothes. The vintage jacket he’d worn to dinner was folded carefully and held in his arms.
“Good morning,” Jacqueline said.
“I’m sorry about last night.” His face was pink again. He wasn’t looking at her. “That was… I’m not usually like that.”
She wanted to laugh, but resisted because she wasn’t sure how he would take it. “I know. How are you feeling?”
One of his hands rubbed at his temple. “Not great. I’m not sure if it’s all just the hangover or the strangeness of the situation.”
“Yeah. I mean, I’m sitting here pregnant beside my fiance after celebrating record sales on my debut novel. This is like, one of those fantasies that you never expect to happen, you know?”
It really was something she’d never expected. When she decided to tell Vincent she was pregnant, she didn’t think there would be a proposal. Truthfully, she was expecting him to break up with her. Vincent wasn’t a bad guy, though, so she was sure he would come up with a custody agreement or a coparenting strategy so he could still play his part in his kid’s life.
Vincent squeezed the jacket even tighter. “I can honestly say I never expected this to happen.”
“Hey, can I ask?” Jacqueline pointed to the jacket. She wanted to ask about it yesterday, but with everything going on the question never seemed important enough to bother. “That’s not your usual style.”
She knew his guard was up around her just as hers was up around him. It was one thing to be aware of a wall and another to see through that wall, though, and in that instant she saw his expression softer than anything.
“This was my grandfather Carlo’s. He wore this to his wedding to my grandmother Valentina. They couldn’t afford a real lavish ceremony like they wanted, so they got married at a courthouse, but he insisted she get to have a real wedding dress, so they spent a good sum of their savings so she could have a good dress and feel like a bride. I thought wearing this would help me out with the proposal. Like I could borrow his strength from it or something. Sorry, is that strange?”
Jacqueline blinked back tears. Did he always have this side to him? “I think it’s really sweet, Vincent.”
He smiled appreciatively and laid the folded jacket on the table. His nose wrinkled. “I really need to wash it, though. I don’t think even my grandfather would forgive me wrecking his favorite sports coat with all my sweat.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I think you could probably use a good wash yourself.” Jacqueline laughed. “You’re a little ripe.”
He cringed. “I think you’re right.”
Vincent stood up and stretched. Jacqueline assumed he was going to leave for the bathroom and started contemplating breakfast again. Unexpectedly, though, Vincent’s hand was held out in front of her.
“Did you want to join me, Jacqueline?”
Vincent was surprised by how little he was effected by Jacqueline saying he smelled unpleasant. Given how on edge he’d gotten just from her saying “clam chowder”, he was proud of his ability to let this one go so easily.
Thinking it over, though, one of those had a stronger hold on his memory than the other. Even if body odor was something he’d been relentlessly picked on about in the past. The whole thing felt so much more childish and silly now than it did when he was a young teen.
Jacqueline’s tub wasn’t very big. They sat across from each other and tried not to move so they wouldn’t displace water. The water was warm and, though Jacqueline had tried to turn it into a bubble bath by pouring some of her body wash into the stream, barely qualified as sudsy. The heavy smell of lilac made him choke. The pregnancy was still early enough that there were no visible signs. Her body looked the same as ever. Her breasts were small and her stomach rolled slightly over her pubic mound. She looked soft.
She’d always looked soft.
He wondered how he looked to her. How he used to look to her. Vincent knew that he looked incredibly different now than he had during the awkward growth period they’d met in. Sometimes he wondered if there was a part of Jacqueline that recognized him from back then. If there was some tell he had that she didn’t want to acknowledge.
Jacqueline turned her head so she was looking at the wall. Her face was red. “You’re staring at me.”
He knew he’d been staring. “You’re really pretty. I can’t believe we’re going to have a baby.”
“Me neither.” She said, still facing the wall. She folded her legs up and held them. Her midsection was hidden from him. Some of the lilac water slipped out of the tub. “I didn’t think I could. My mom’s side of the family has a lot of fertility issues that makes it near impossible to get pregnant.”
The faucet was cold against his back. “I guess this is a miracle, then.”
“Yeah.”
They both grew quiet. The lilac smell was starting to make Vincent’s head hurt, and he was getting hungry. He was about to suggest they get out of the tub and get breakfast, but Jacqueline spoke again before he could.
“How big’s your place, Vincent?”
Caught off guard, all he could say was “Huh?”
“Your place.” She was looking at him now. Her eyes, calculating, made him feel somehow more naked. He recoiled, pushing the faucet further into his back. “Where you live. How big is it?”
He usually slept at the studio. “Big enough. Why?”
“We should move in together. I mean, we’re getting married and we’re having a baby. My apartment’s big enough for me, but not for three people.” Her gaze flickered away from him, now lost in thought. “Should we go apartment hunting later?”
“I don’t think we’ll need to worry about that.” Vincent admitted. “I hope this doesn’t change your opinion of me at all, but… I’m actually a landlord.”
Jacqueline snorted a laugh, but Vincent wasn’t joking.
He never thought he’d need to reveal this. “When my grandparents passed, they left me their house. It’s a pretty nice place and the mortgage is all paid out. It’s not here in the city, but it’s only about a thirty minute drive so I’ve been renting the rooms out to college students for pretty cheap.”
“Really?” Jacqueline tilted her head. “Is that how you’re able to focus on your art so much?”
“I won’t lie, the extra income is really helpful.” He shrugged. “After this semester is over, I guess I won’t have that to rely on anymore.”
Jacqueline frowned. “Why so long?”
“I already made arrangements with someone to let him stay there. I’m not going back on my word.”
“Oh yeah, of course not.” She examined her hands and made a face. “My fingers are wrinkling, I think I’m gonna get out.”
Jacqueline stood and moved carefully out of the tub. The tiles on the floor were slick. It would be so easy for her to slip. Crack her skull on the edge of the tub. An instant and tragic death.
She stood over him and wrapped a towel around herself. “When should we go?”
“What do you mean?” Vincent started to haul himself out of the tub. Rising struck him with a sudden bout of light headedness. The lilac, probably. The air was thick with it.
Jacqueline held her hand out to him to take. “Floor’s pretty wet. Don’t slip.”
He took her hand, trying to hide his annoyance. The amount of water on the floor was more than he anticipated. Despite his best efforts his focus and his foot slipped out from under him. He didn’t have the time to catch himself.
But there was Jacqueline, braced and ready for his weight.
He could hear her heart pounding against his face, which had slammed into her toweled breast. His own heart, he knew, was beating just as hard.
Vincent spoke through gritted teeth. “My hero.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she laughed as she dragged him out. His foot practically splashed down on the tile, “with my luck you’d fall and hit your head bad enough that you’d go into a coma or something. Then I’d feel obligated to pay for your hospital bills and raise our baby all on my own. That’s a little much for one woman to take, you know? Anyway, are you okay?”
He took a towel off the rack and dried his hair. Blocking her view of his face meant that he had time to will it back to its normal shade. How embarrassing. How shameful. As a grown man, to need help, to make a pregnant woman catch him. He was disgusted with himself.
“You know, it just occurred to me,” he said, wrapping the towel around his waist. The blood refused to leave his face, so he decided to mask his feelings behind a sheepish expression, “my clothes are in the wash. I don’t have anything to change into.”
“I guess you’re stuck here til they’re dry.” Jacqueline grinned. “But whatever will we do while you’re left naked?”
“I can think of a few things.”
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