Happy Endings: A Hessa Story (3)

Chapter 35: Tessa

Besides being an amazing husband and partner, Hardin should quit his writing gig and become a masseuse. This man has hands of steel, and he definitely knows how to work them into the sore parts of my body. Each day he comes home from work and sees me sitting on the couch or bed, he'll put my feet into his lap and massage them. I don't even have to ask anymore. My feet look like little balloons, but today marks the fifteenth day in a row that he's consistently massaged me in some fashion. His behavior has continued to be exceptional since he surprised me at lunch with Trevor. We haven't had one argument in what feels like forever, but it's probably only been a few days.

With our Trevor/Stacy mission, it's been a lot more difficult than both of us thought. Stacy still refuses to open up to Hardin, which makes me agitated. The one time I need her to get close with him, she decided to keep her distance; it's such bullshit. I, on the other hand, haven't been able to get in contact with Trevor since our lunch. I think he and Vanessa went on a vacation of some sort because Hardin says he hasn't been at work either.

Today's the day where he takes me to the planetarium for my Valentine's Day present, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to go. There are aches all over my body, and it feels like someone has taken a baseball bat to my back and knees. No amount of massages can make the pain go away. I'm nearly eight months now, and I just want her out. She's causing me immense amounts of pain and discomfort, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to act like she's not twisting my insides around.

"Ready to take a shower?" Hardin's head pops into the bedroom as I lay down. "Our appointment at the planetarium is in a couple hours."

The idea of standing on my feet does not please me, but Hardin went to such great extents to plan this day, so I'm just going to suck it up. I've been having those Braxton hicks contractions again, so I'm going to have to pull out every ounce of strength I have to fake smile today.

Hardin walks over to the bed and holds out his hand to help me sit up. Since I can't bend down and clean my legs, Hardin happily volunteers to help me clean myself. It makes me feel like a child instead of an expecting mother, but I cannot reach anything below my stomach. I just need to accept the help.

"Thanks." I rest my hand on his shoulder as we slowly walk over to the bathroom. I sit on the toilet seat while he starts the shower. "How the hell am I supposed to do this for another month?"

He looks back at me with a smirk. "You've done it for this long. You got this! We're in the final stretch."

He doesn't understand how much I feel like Bella Swan at the end of Breaking Dawn Pt. 1. It feels like this baby is sucking me dry of all my energy. I glance up at the mirror to make sure I don't have sunken cheeks like she did. I have the complete opposite. My cheeks look like I'm a chipmunk and have nuts stored in them for the winter. Everything is swollen, and I honestly can't even recognize myself in the mirror. How the fuck do some woman look so good pregnant while I look like a beached whale?

"Tess? What are you staring at?" Hardin asks me.

How the fuck could Hardin even find me attractive when I look like this? My hair is in a scraggily bun, my skin is pale and flaky, and my cheeks are bright red. I look like fucking Santa Klaus.

"You're married to Santa Klaus." My eyes well up with tears as I continue to stare at my reflection. Most woman love their pregnant belly, but I'm not sure I'm one of them.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Look at me!" I point to the mirror, but my reflection is now blurred by tears. They weren't lying when they say woman go crazy during pregnancy. I can never control my emotions, and everything sets me off. I must be driving him insane because it's only getting worse the closer I get to giving birth. Two nights ago, I cried because we ran out of Oreo cookies in the pantry, so I made Hardin run out at 10 o'clock at night to get me some. Yesterday, I spilled my tea on the floor and cried for three hours. Three whole hours! I'm mentally insane.