The Marriage Deal.

Take Thirty-Five.

"I'm canceling my business trip." The deep, monotonous voice spoke above me as I was sprawled out on the sofa, reading. Immediately after the words settled in, I jerked my head up to look at bane of my existence, Derick himself. I rose up. "Wha- no, no. Derick, that's not necessary."

"I'm not leaving you alone while you're carrying my child. Whether you decide to take it away from me or not, as long as it's inside of you, I'm not leaving you by yourself. Not for that long."

Ouch. I chose to ignore his first statement. "Firstly, I'm not feeble. Second of all, it's just two days."

   "Two days is too long for me."

   "This is very important, Derick. This is your business." I persisted.

   "And that's my child." He snapped back. "If something were to happen while I was gone, I'd never forgive myself." His response was instant. He gave it no second thought.

   I swallowed. Why did every time he say things like that my heart would start this galloping inside of my chest and my entire body would experience this deep, comforting warmth? I didn't like it.

   "Nothing's going to happen." I tried assuring him.

   "You don't know that and neither do I, which is my point. I'm not going anywhere, business can wait. So stop trying to change my mind, London." His voice had gotten hard and that was how I knew this conversation was over.

   As much as I didn't want him to cancel his trip just because I was pregnant, that didn't take away from the fact that the thought of him being concerned made me feel so good inside. This protectiveness that he's been showing lately made me feel things I was afraid of feeling for him. I stared at his bareback as he vanished into the kitchen. Annoyingly enough, my body heated up. My eyes rolled and I sighed dramatically.

This cannot be me getting turned on right now.

As soon as I grabbed the remote to turn on the television, I heard footsteps again. I looked to see him returning with a styrofoam plate and the scent of food that followed him was mouth watering. He stopped at the sofa again.

"Here." Was all he said, handing the plate over to me.

My brows scrunched together. "What's this? Food? Derick, I ate." That was partially a lie.

"You had fruits. This is an actual meal. Now, take it and eat." He basically commanded. The stubborn part of me, which was a massive part, wanted to decline just because he was telling me what to do. But the other, more rational part knew that I needed to eat something.

I snorted as I took the plate away from him, saying, "If you're gonna be like this for the rest of the pregnancy, shoot me now." I dramatized.

The entire room and both Derick and myself stilled the exact same time. My throat bobbled up and down as I swallowed.

Oh, God.

I closed my eyes down and exhaled. "It was- it was a slip of the tongue. I didn't mean-"

"London." The way he said my name made me stop short and raise my head to look up at him.

"Derick, don't do this." I pleaded desperately. "I'm not ready to have this conversation again."

He snorted. "I'm not doing anything. I'm simply letting you know that it didn't cross my mind for a split second that I thought it was anything but a slip of the tongue." His words were cutting deep. "I very much doubt you'd stop being so absorbed with yourself and decide to have this child. Ninety percent of me has lost all hope, because you avoid even talking about the situation. As always, you're running."