Blind Carnival

Pit Stop

Author's Note:

This is the penultimate chapter, my darlings. To think of it, I do seem to recall the readers of this story (when it was initially published on JukePop) to complain about how abruptly it ended. As I've said to one of my readers, I can only assume that I got distracted at the time with some new idea and quickly wrapped up Olivia and John's story :D

But fear not! I'm planning to write a sequel to it... but there's a catch. As some of you may have read in my announcements on my profile message board, I'm currently struggling with some health issues, and it seems that I have at least 6 months of intense physiotherapy for my thrice injured spine ahead of me. Which means I need to support myself and my family financially without actually going to work. Hence, Patreon. You can find the link to it in my bio, and I'm going to be writing and posting the sequel to Blind Carnival exclusively for my Patrons. 

I'm still going to continue writing and posting my romance here, on Wattpad, but please, consider supporting me, if you have the opportunity.

Thank you for reading and voting and commenting! It means the world to me!

Love,

Katya 

***

Three weeks later she asks John to stop the car that they're currently occupying, and she jumps out of it onto the curb, breathing in loud, raspy heaves.

He's near her in a second, rubbing her back, and holding her ponytail.

"Is it morning sickness, Liv?" he asks, soft concern in his voice.

He's also trying to hide how much he's enjoying the whole expectant father thing. That's her first bout of nausea in front of him, and frankly speaking, so far there hasn't been any signs that she's pregnant besides the pink stripes and a visit to her doctor. He wasn't present at either of those occasions.

"No, it's your parents! I'm so nervous!" She straightens up, and he hands her a bottle of water. "I'm sick when I'm nervous," she explains. "And I'm very nervous..."

She drinks greedily.

"Why?"

Men are so funny sometimes. And the mellow self-assured type that she somehow managed to tie herself to, are even funnier.

"What if they hate me? I'm sure your Father will, but your Mum? What if she hates me?" Olivia squeaks and drinks more water with surprisingly loud 'glug-glug' noises.

"They won't. But even if it doesn't go too well, it doesn't matter." He steps closer and wraps his arms around her. "I don't hate you. Isn't it the most important?"

Mars, he's definitely from Mars. Where is Olivia's spaceship? Venus awaits.

"Weren't you nervous when meeting my parents? Didn't you want them to like you?"

"Not really." He shrugs. "What does it matter?"

She groans and presses her forehead to his chest.

"I almost don't want to go," she whines. "Almost!" She raises her index finger without lifting her face off his delicious warm chest. "I still want to go, but I also almost don't."

"I don't understand you, but I love you. Does it help?" There's laughter in his voice, and she feels his torso shake slightly underneath her.

"No!" She's feeling combative, and then she of course doesn't. "Yes, a little bit. OK, it does help a lot."

He strokes the back of her head. If she were a cat, she'd purr. Maybe, she does. A little bit.

"Liv, do you want to know a thing?"