Self-Defense

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This was a bad idea.

She was fifteen minutes late because it had taken so much time to talk herself into going to the self-defense meeting. Two rows of women--six in each--were performing some kind of line drill. They mimicked the motions of a woman who seemed to be in her early sixties, with a helmet of grayish-brown hair and the confidence of a tank.

Amelia lingered in the door, nerves bubbling in her stomach. What was she supposed to do? Just walk in and line up? It was obvious that all these women were familiar with the moves they were performing. 

"Amelia?"

She jumped, eyes widening as she spotted the woman leaning uncomfortably in a folding chair near the back.

"T-tara?" she stuttered, shocked to see the woman in this setting.

Tony's sub and the instigator of the unfortunate intervention into her and Derek's relationship, Tara had grown considerably since Amelia last saw her, belly swelling beneath her workout tee.

Tara straightened as much as she could in her chair. "What are you doing here?"

Amelia glanced around the room and found that their conversation had drawn the attention of many of the other women. She moved closer to Tara so that she could speak softly. "Damien sent me. He thought--he thought it might help. He, uh, he didn't tell me that you came here too."

"I'm an instructor actually," Tara said. Her hand rested on her stomach. "I meant to lead the class today, but mimmo here had other plans."

Noticing Amelia's confusion, she elaborated, "Tony's very Italian. That's his nickname for the baby."

"Ah." Amelia shuffled. "Well, I uh--"

"You should jump in," Tara said. "Look, we should talk. I'm meant to have a conversation with you anyway, but I could never find a good time, and honestly the first trimester was a bitch. But don't let me being involved here keep you from taking part. This organization helps a lot of people get back on their feet."

"I think--I think I'm just going to watch for now," Amelia said.

Tara nodded, grimacing at whatever was happening to her internally.

Amelia glanced at her belly, fingers drifting to her own. Tara's eyes caught the movement. 

"Do you want to feel?"

Amelia froze, hand jerking away. "Oh, I couldn't--"

"Just touch my stomach," Tara said, rolling her eyes.

Breath tight, Amelia reached out and just barely brushed Tara's taut stomach. 

Grabbing Amelia's hand, the woman snorted as she forced more pressure. "You need to push like--that--"

Amelia jumped back, ripping her hand away as something shockingly solid moved beneath Tara's skin. Nausea rolled as her stomach tried to reject the realization that something like that now lived inside her.

"I--I'm sorry; I need to go," she said, chest tight. Not waiting for Tara's response, Amelia fled.

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