Marital Bitch(55)

“Yes,” I blurt out without thinking about it. For once I’m acting on instinct. I’m saying exactly what I want from him and not what I think he wants to give me. Back in high school, I wanted him to ask me to prom, but I didn’t want him to feel obligated to do it. So when he asked, I acted like such a bitch—my trademark reaction to everything it seems. Thankfully, he’s as stubborn as I am and he didn’t take no for an answer.

“Yeah?” he asks, resting his chin on the top of my head.

“Yeah,” I say, “I want a baby.” His chin moves on top of my skull and I just know he’s smiling. I’m not fighting him or questioning him or doubting him for once. There’s a slight nagging feeling in the back of my head telling me that this is a disaster waiting to happen. And it probably is. But then, part of me thinks that maybe it’s not. Our marriage should have been a disaster; but here I am. In love. Our cohabitation should have been a disaster; but here we are. Wanting to have a baby. I know that bringing a baby into this mess is the worst idea imaginable, but this is Bradley Patrick. He said he wants to keep me; and even if he only loves me like a friend, I can live with that. I’d rather have some of him than nothing at all. I can live with being just his best friend and his wife and the mother of his children. The very idea gives me butterflies. He doesn’t have to be in love with me. He just has to keep me and I’ll be alright.

“We should get started then,” he laughs and starts to strip. “We only got an hour before we have to be at your parents’ house.” I laugh at the sudden shift in our moods. Adam says we’re perfectly normal, capable human beings; but together, we’re bipolar. I can’t say he’s wrong.

Brad steps out of the shower and then grabs me, throwing me over his shoulder and carefully walks back into our bedroom where the throws me on the bed. “We’re really doing this?” he asks, a grin on his face. I smile, a blush heating my face.

“Yeah,” I say quietly, “we are.”





CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

(Brad)





Colleen has a problem and in rides Brad.





WE'RE HAVING A baby. Well, we're trying to have a baby. Hell, we might already have one on the way. I have no clue. Apparently, I can't just man up and tell her that I'm in love with her, but I can tell her I want to have a baby with her. This probably says something about me.

"I can't wait to go shopping for maternity clothes!" Colleen blurts out from across the room. And it is comments like that that remind me how very real our decision is. Talking about having a baby is one thing, but having sex without any protection in order to have a baby is quite another. How did I get into this, again?

Oh. Yeah. I thought that a baby would make Colleen happy. I know that a baby will make me happy. I know that I want a baby with Colleen, but I have the nagging feeling that this just isn't a good idea. Which all leads me to wonder how far am I willing to go to make her happy.

"Dude," Colleen says. I look up at her to find that she's got her t-shirt pulled up and she's looking at her profile in the full-length mirror. Well, she doesn't look pregnant yet. "You think I'm already knocked up?" She smiles. I shrug. Damn if I know. I've never knocked anyone up before.

"You really want to have a baby with me?” I ask her seriously. She drops her shirt and walks over to me. She isn’t smiling, she looks very serious. She places her hands on my cheeks and smiles softly.

“Bradley Patrick,” she says nary above a whisper. “There is nobody else I’d rather be married to, or have a baby with, or be tied to in such a permanent way.” And what the hell does she mean by that?

“As a friend, right?” I say, giving her a chance to say something. The words she says don’t sound like things friends say to each other. I should know, I’ve been saying shit like that to her for years and I’ve never said anything close to that to any of my girlfriends. She’s the only one. She’s always been the only one. I thought Heather might have been a good substitute for a while, but she never even came close to being my pretty girl.

Her face falls. I swear to God she looks like she’s about to cry. “Is there something you need to tell me?” I ask, trying to get her to say what seems to be written all over her face.

“You’re my best friend,” She leans up and kisses the corner of my mouth.

“We better go,” I mumble and turn to walk out of the room.

“WHAT’S GOING ON with you and Colleen?” Dan asks. I take a long pull of my beer and think about that for a moment and I come up with nothing.