Savage Love || An Eminem Fanfiction

Chapter 128

Marshall's POV

Blair had always been tough, tougher than anyone I'd ever known. She never backed down from anything, but seeing her curled up on the bathroom floor, pale and drenched in sweat, it was hard not to feel like I was watching her fight something bigger than both of us. Morning sickness wasn't just hitting her hard—it was absolutely kicking her ass. At only six weeks pregnant, the symptoms had hit her full force, and it was brutal to watch.

She lay on her side, her body curled into a tight ball, one arm draped over the toilet bowl like it was her only lifeline. Her face was pressed into the cool tile floor, her hair sticking to her forehead in damp, messy strands. The bathroom light, harsh and unforgiving, made her pale skin look even more ghostly. I watched her for a moment, my heart heavy. She hadn't moved much, too exhausted to do more than shift slightly and let out the occasional groan.

I crouched down beside her, feeling the cold of the bathroom tile seep through my jeans as my knees hit the floor with a soft thud. I reached out, rubbing her back in slow, gentle circles, my fingers brushing against her clammy skin. Her body was warm to the touch, but not with the comforting heat that comes from resting—this was the heat of someone fighting something they couldn't control.

"You know," I said softly, trying to offer some comfort, "I would've signed up for this either way, but they definitely left out the part where you feel like this all the time."

Blair let out a weak groan, her eyes still closed, her cheek pressed against the tile floor. "If I had known this was part of the deal, I might not have begged you to try IVF and do this in the first place."

I chuckled softly, brushing a lock of damp hair off her face. Her hair, usually so sleek and styled, clung to her skin, damp from hours of fighting nausea. "You didn't just beg—you put together a full-blown presentation. PowerPoint and everything. I'm still impressed by the sales pitch."

She cracked one eye open and shot me a weak glare, her pale lips twitching. "Yeah, well, I left out the 'throwing up for hours' part. They failed to mention that fun fact in the colorful brochure."

I smirked, leaning in a little closer. The heat radiating off her made the coldness of the floor beneath me feel sharper, like the room itself was divided between her misery and the world outside of it. "Yeah, might've. But hey, we're here now. No refunds, unfortunately."

Blair sighed, leaning her head back against the wall now, her body sliding slightly as if she didn't have the strength to hold herself up. "I feel like I'm losing it. Every time I try to stand up, I feel like the world's spinning. I can't even keep water down."

I shifted, sitting beside her, my back pressed against the cool tile wall. "Yeah, it's rough. But you've been through worse. You're doing great, you know that?"

Blair let out a dry laugh, though it sounded more like a groan. "I don't know what could be worse than this."

I nudged her gently, trying not to jostle her too much. "Remember when you came with me to Vegas, and you met up with Megan and Kelly? You were curled up just like this, on the bathroom floor of our suite, vowing never to touch Fireball again."

Blair managed a faint smile, though her eyes stayed shut. Her lips were cracked, dry from the hours she'd spent fighting the nausea. "That was me being cocky. This? This is a betrayal. My body's sabotaging me."

"Yeah, but you bounced back from that, and you'll bounce back from this. Plus, you're officially the hottest baby momma I've ever seen. That's gotta count for something."

She cracked an eye open again, her voice hoarse and raspy. "You're just saying that because you're legally required to."

"Maybe," I said, grinning. "But it's still true."

Blair sighed, closing her eyes again. "Well, right now, I feel like anything but hot. I feel like a train wreck. A sweaty, nauseous, half-dead train wreck."

I scooted closer, leaning my shoulder against the wall, and reached for her hand. Her fingers were cold in mine, her grip weak but steady. "You're a tough train wreck, though. And right now, you're carrying a little fighter in there. That's no small feat."

She squeezed my hand weakly. "You'd better remind me of that when I'm not constantly hovering over a toilet."

"I will," I promised, giving her hand a gentle squeeze in return. "But seriously, you've got this. I'm proud of you."

There was a pause, a quiet moment where she didn't say anything. I could see the tension in her shoulders, the exhaustion in her eyes. Her breaths were shallow, and I could hear the slight rasp in her throat. The nausea wasn't going to let up anytime soon, but at least she knew I was here, and I wasn't going anywhere.

"Marshall..." Blair's voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. "I know I asked for this. I know I wanted it. But what if I can't do it? What if something goes wrong? What if... I'm not as strong as I thought?"

Hearing her doubt herself hit me hard. She was always the strong one, the one who held everything together, and it wasn't often that she let that facade crack. I scooted closer, tightening my grip on her hand. She felt fragile, like the weight of this was pressing down on her in a way I couldn't understand.

"You're stronger than you think, Blair. You've been through so much, and this? This is just another challenge. Yeah, it sucks right now, but you've got this. I know it."

She looked up at me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But what if something happens? What if... we lose it again?"

I swallowed hard, my thumb brushing over the back of her hand. The room felt too bright, too quiet, the words hanging between us like an invisible barrier. That fear—the one we didn't talk about much but always lingered—was real. We'd been through a loss before, and it had torn us apart. But this time, we were further along, and I could feel her fear of history repeating itself.

"I don't know what's going to happen," I said quietly, my voice barely a whisper. "But I do know that whatever happens, we'll handle it. Together."

Blair nodded slowly, her expression softening just a bit. "You're too good at this 'supportive husband' thing."

I smiled, leaning in to kiss her forehead gently, the salty taste of sweat lingering on my lips. "Not bad for a guy who usually just cracks dumb jokes, huh?"

She let out a soft laugh, though it quickly faded into a groan as another wave of nausea hit. "I just want to feel normal again."

I kissed her forehead again. "You will. You're just going through the hard part first. And when this is over, we'll get to the fun stuff—baby bumps, people telling you how great you look, me embarrassing you by showing up to every appointment."

Blair's eyes fluttered closed again, but her lips twitched into a faint smile. "You're going to be the most embarrassing dad, aren't you?"

"Absolutely," I said, grinning. "I'm gonna be that dad who brings the boom box to PTA meetings."

She smirked. "I'll believe it when I see it. Right now, I'm just trying not to die."

I smiled, but I knew the bathroom floor wasn't the place for her to sleep tonight. Blair had started to drift off, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion. I stood up and gently slid my arms underneath her. She barely stirred as I lifted her, her head resting against my chest.

As I carried her to the bedroom, she felt lighter than I remembered, or maybe it was just the weight of everything we'd been through making this moment feel heavier. I carried her carefully, like she was something fragile, but knowing full well that Blair was anything but.

I laid her down gently on the bed, pulling the blankets up around her. She sighed softly, still half-asleep, as I slid in next to her. She shifted slightly, curling into me as I wrapped my arm around her.

My hand instinctively found her abdomen, resting there gently. I could feel the slight rise and fall of her breathing, steady now, as she finally began to relax.

As I lay there, holding her, my hand on her belly, I couldn't help but think about everything ahead of us. It wasn't going to be easy—it never was—but we were in it together, and that was what mattered.

I kissed the top of her head, whispering into the quiet room, "No matter what comes, we've got this, Blair. We've got this."