Where You Belong

“Say, where ya goin?
Whatcha gonna do?
I’ve been lookin’ everywhere
I’ve been lookin’ for you
You don’t want my love
You want satisfaction – I got your satisfaction
You don’t need my love
You’ve gotta find yourself another
Piece of the action

Cause you’re crazy, crazy
You’re fuckin’ crazy, oh my
You know, you’re crazy, oh child
I said you’re crazy, hey, hey”

I grinned to myself as I swung my hips along to the loud, heavy music of Guns N’ Roses as I dug my way through the dirty laundry. The boys’ five month long tour was quickly approaching and they were set to head out in just two days’ time. Zack had yet to pack anything, so here I was, washing article after article of clothing at the very last minute as Zack tore through our closet and dressers for what he wanted to take with him.

At first, I’d been somewhat annoyed to find out that he hadn’t begun packing until now, knowing that it’d be down to the wire and the man would be running around with nothing to take with him to God-knows-where on tour. But then, I’d realized that I could use the distraction. It felt good to toss my thoughts out the window for once, at least for a little while.

I’d been going at this all morning. First, I vacuumed the carpets, and then I allowed Zack to spread all his crap along the clean floors as I began laundry. I’d never seen so many clothes in my life. Other than Brian, Zack was the only male I knew a huger wardrobe than any apparel-obsessed female I could think of.

I crammed as much as I could into the washing machine for each load. First, I’d washed a dark load. Then, I moved onto the whites as the darks went in the dryer. When it was time to put the whites in the dryer, I started another load for the colors before folding and hanging the dry darks. By the time I’d finished folding them all, the dryer was going off for the next load, and the washing machine had already stopped. And so the process repeated.

Load after load after load, and I was finally nearing the last of them…until Zack discovered something else that he wanted to be washed. He’d been through the room several times throughout the day, gathering each load of freshly folded clothing in his arms and ambling back towards the master bedroom. I assumed he’d been busy sorting through everything, seeing what he would take with him, and what he would leave home.

I was grateful that he’d stayed relatively busy. Every now and then, we’d take turns watching after Mason, though it was evident that Mason preferred to stay with Zack. I didn’t mind so much. He was a demanding little boy, and I enjoyed any time I could have to myself. It gave me time to think…not that I needed it. Time to think was definitely the last thing on Earth that I needed.

So, I threw myself into my work, only pausing every once in a while, long enough to sing along with whatever was blasting through the stereo. It worked to keep my occupied. Three hours later, and I was still good.

“Say, boy, where ya comin’ from?
Where’d you get that point of view?
When I was younger
Said I knew someone like you
And you don’t want my love
You want satisfaction
You don’t need my love
You’ve gotta find yourself another
Piece of the action

Cause you’re crazy, hey, hey
You’re fuckin’ crazy, oh my
You know, you’re crazy, oh child
I said you’re crazy
Ooh, you’re crazy, ow, ow, ow, ow
You know, you’re crazy
Yeah, you’re crazy
You know you’re crazy
Oh, you know you are
Bring it down!
You’re fuckin’ crazy”

I shivered as I felt a pair of familiar arms snake around my middle, the shirt I’d been folding instantly falling from my fingertips as Zack’s cologne filled my nostrils. I exhaled slowly, willing my body not to tense as he pressed a sensual kiss to the base of my throat, the coolness of his lip rings biting into my heated skin.

“Having a good time?” he murmured quietly, pulling me so that my bare back was flush with his chest. I was cursing myself for wearing an open back top today. I stilled my movements and nodded, avoiding his gaze.

“I am,” I answered coolly, fighting the urge to turn in his arms and give him a kiss, “I’m nearly finished.”

He didn’t say anything after that, though he did reach forward onto the couch from behind me. I frowned, noticing that he’d grabbed hold of the remote to the stereo. I immediately looked down as he lowered the volume considerably, all but muting the voice of Axl Rose, and taking my distraction away.

I had no choice but to turn around as his hands gently pulled at my hips, “I couldn’t hear you just then. What were you saying?” he asked with a small smile, green eyes following my every move.

I couldn’t help but to shift uncomfortably under his gaze, though I knew it wasn’t his doing. No, it was mine. All mine. I pulled myself from him and returned to the pile of laundry I’d been folding, picking back up the dark Slayer shirt from before and neatly folding it at the corners.

“I was saying that I’m almost done. A couple more loads, and then I can get everything folded, and you can decide what to take with you,” I answered lowly, hoping like hell that he hadn’t caught the stammer in my voice.

But this was Zack we were talking about. Of course he fucking noticed.

“You alright, baby?” he asked slowly, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see him tilting his head to the side.

Fuck. Not the motherfucking head tilt.

I visibly cringed, “Of course. I’m a little tired, but that’s to be expected after running thirty four loads of laundry,” I smiled lightly in his direction, though I refused to make eye contact with him.

He was off the couch and by my side in a flash, “Baby, you didn’t have to work yourself so hard. I would’ve managed it on my own.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” I chuckled with a shrug of my shoulders, “I know you better than you must think. You never would’ve gotten it all done.”

“You’re right,” he chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck, “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome, Zack,” I smiled half-heartedly, “Where’s Mason?”

“I put him down a while ago—“ Zack began before my son’s cry could be heard around the corner, “And I guess he’s done napping now.”

I giggled at that with a shake of my head, “I’ll go get him.”

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” Zack shook his head, placing a hand on my waist as I moved to walk past him, “I’ll do it. You’ve done enough for today; you deserve to take a break.”

A real smile made its way across my face as he sent me a quick grin and rounded the corner, the sound of his retreating footsteps ringing in my ears. Just a moment later, I heard Mason’s cries come to a complete halt and his signature giggle sound from the hallway.

“Hey, little man,” I could hear Zack coo from the other room, and a smile crept onto my lips without warning. As quickly as I felt that flutter of pride surge through my stomach, I shot it down and sighed, returning to Zack’s clothes.

I folded my way through several more piles and lay them neatly on the other end of the bed, hearing the dryer go off in the distance and moving towards it. Grabbing the laundry basket off the floor, I tucked it under my arm and heaved handful after handful of freshly laundered clothing into it. They were warm and smelled of lavender, the signature scent of the laundry detergent I liked to use.

An all too familiar shriek distracted me from stuffing another load of soiled laundry into the washing machine, and I quickly released the bottle of detergent I’d been holding, turning to smile at Mason, who happily watched me from Zack’s arms. He reached for me, and I quickly held my arms out.

“Momma missed you, too, baby,” I suppressed the fluttering feel in my stomach as I cradled my son to my chest, grinning as he wrapped his chubby arms around my neck and reciprocated the embrace, “Did you sleep well?”

I couldn’t understand much of what he began babbling about in response, though his slurred version of ‘Zacky’ did register to me. Once again, Zack was bursting at the seams with pride. I could see that much as I glanced in his direction. I made an enthusiastic sound of acknowledgement as Mason continued, pointing this way and that as his gaze danced across every surface of the room.

“Ready for some lunch?” Zack spoke up with a broad smile, catching Mason’s attention. In a heartbeat, he’d gone from cuddling me, to attempting to leap out of my arms as he reached for Zack again. I chuckled and silently handed him over, knowing that if I didn’t move quickly, he would try to leap from my arms and into Zack’s. Fearless little fool that he was. Zack winked at me, “We’ll be downstairs. You want anything?”

Some ranch-covered cheese puffs. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“You sure?” he cocked an eyebrow at me, holding Mason close as he balanced him on his hip.

Hell fucking no. “Yeah, baby. You two go ahead; I’ll be down in a bit.”

He seemed to buy it, blinking for a moment as he replied, “Okay. But hurry; I feel as though I haven’t seen you all day.”

And just when I’d thought I’d been safe, he leaned forward and moved in for a kiss. I froze, flinching with apprehension as he moved near. He straightened up immediately an eyed me with scrutiny. I averted my gaze, not wanting to alert Mason. He may have barely been a toddler, but he was still very observant.

Quickly, I began moving towards the bedroom, “Sorry, I have to pee real quick. Meet you guys downstairs!”

With that, I hurried into the adjoining bathroom and slammed the door behind me, taking a deep breath as I heard Zack’s mutter of confusion and retreating footsteps. I slowly exhaled, clenching my eyes shut as I began counting backwards from one hundred. I’d cut it close, that much was for sure.

For the past three weeks, I’d worked hard to conceal my anxiety from Zack. I’d busied myself with whatever I could find when I was home, and always found an excuse when Zack got too close for me to handle. And when he would question my actions, I played it cool with yet another excuse. A web of lies I was beginning to weave myself into. Why couldn’t I just tell him the truth?

The truth. That I had been deemed eleven weeks pregnant by none other than Jerry Polizzi himself, my former gynecologist. That out of the eleven weeks I’d been pregnant, I’d known for three and had been withholding that information from him for those entire three weeks that I’d known. That I was nowhere near prepared to mother a second child, and was terrified of what he would think and say about the matter.

That would be one hell of an explanation. Where would I even start?

I wanted to tell him. God knows, I didn’t think I could bear to keep something like this to myself. It was the same feeling I’d had when I’d first found out that I was pregnant with Mason. That feeling of suffocation. Of anxiety, of bewilderment. Every kind of overpowering, exhausting emotion one could feel, and I was feeling them all at once. I felt as though I was bursting with information. I’d spill my guts if given the chance, and with Zack, it would only take one glance in my direction.

I knew it, and he knew it.

But, this wasn’t a time for me to just spill my guts. The information I withheld would be life changing. Once it was out, I wouldn’t be able to take it back or modify the manner in which it was revealed. I couldn’t be brash. I had to do this right, so that Zack not only understood the severity of the situation, but my feelings towards it and towards him as well.

Every time he walked into the room, I wanted to say something. To say anything. To tell him everything that had been going on, and that I was terribly sorry. To tell him that I was sorry for putting him in such as mess, and for keeping the truth from him for as long as I had. To tell him that I didn’t know what to fucking do. I’d never planned for this, much like I’d never planned for Mason. That I needed his help now that I was carrying a second child. His child.

But I didn’t deserve his help. And he didn’t deserve such an intrusion on his life and dreams.

I’d watched him work so hard for the life he lived. Touring the country in a battered old van, living off of stale, greasy cheeseburgers and soft drinks for months on end. Spending what free time he did have writing song after song, and then recording each one for hours on end. Doing photo shoots, interviews, and performances in between everything else.

Now he was where he’d always wanted to be. Lifting people up with his music, and proving those wrong who’d doubted him in the past. How could I take that away from him? How could I ever live with myself, knowing that after all the struggle and effort he’d put into his career, I would be the one to ultimately stand in the way of it and his happiness?

But on the other hand, Zack had never once complained about Mason. He’d taken me as his girlfriend, and opened his heart and his home to my infant son with no questions asked. Hell, he was the godfather of my son, and had been there for the birth, first doctor’s appointment, first word, first solid meal, first everything. He’d always treated Mason as his own, and wasn’t afraid to show it.

But caring for a child and fathering one of your own were two completely different things, were they not? Hell, I’d never minded kids before I found out that I was going to have one of my own. Just the thought alone of being the caregiver for another being was terrifying. I could clearly remember that doomed feeling. Zack would undoubtedly feel the same once he found out, and then what?

Fear did something to people. And everyone’s reaction to fear was different.

Would he run, as Michael had done? Would he lash out and throw insult after insult at me? I could only imagine what people could and would say about me this time around. Twenty-five years old with a one year old, and now another one on the way. Barely out of college, never been married, and neither of the children share the same father. I was becoming a fucking statistic.

Fuck becoming. I was a statistic.

The sole thought of that was upsetting. I felt the air leave my lungs as leaned back against the door, fighting the all too familiar swelling of my throat. I knew what it was, and clumsily crawled on all fours toward my dear old porcelain friend. Clawing at the seat, I heaved myself up into a sitting position and leaned forward, emptying every ounce of my stomach into the white porcelain bowl.

Welcome back, Morning Sickness.

***************************

“There you are,” Zack glanced in my direction momentarily upon my arrival, leaning forward as he held a spoonful of red goop to Mason’s mouth. With a soft giggle and his eyes trained solely on Zack, Mason opened his mouth and took the spoonful of food without a single problem. I shook my head, knowing that had it been me, he would’ve fought me like a stubborn little mule. A smile lit Zack’s face, “I thought you might’ve fallen in. You’ve been up there for a while.”

Shit. Think fast, think fucking fast.

“I forgot that I had a few more things to fold,” I lied easily with a convincing shrug of my shoulders, “On that note, how much have you gotten packed? You only have tomorrow to finish packing and get to bed early.”

He thought silently for a minute before shrugging to himself, “Every year, I think I have everything, and then when we’re out on the road, I discover that I’m missing a lot,” he said, quickly continuing as he saw the exasperated look on my face, “But whatever I don’t have, I can just buy while we’re out there. It’s no big deal, baby; don’t stress about it.”

I eyed him uneasily, as I was a person who made several packing checklists whenever I went somewhere for long periods of time. Hell, three days away from home required a packing checklist for me. I didn’t like the idea of him being so unprepared, but he was a guy after all. He also had the resources to pick up whatever he may need wherever he was, so I could only worry but so much.

“Okay,” I breathed, turning my gaze from him to Mason in his chair. I shook my head as I looked him over, seeing that he was covered all over in red sauce. Eyeing a large gunk of it in his mass of curls, I cocked an eyebrow at Zack, “Spaghetti-O’s?”

Zack’s lips curled up into a smile, “It’s what he asked for.”

See? And they tell me my baby isn’t spoiled rotten.

Though it was nothing new, I couldn’t help but to take note of that special bond Mason and Zack shared. Somehow, it was even stronger than the one he shared with the Berry twins, and believe me, they were very close to that little boy. Not a day went by when someone wouldn’t comment on how attached at the hip my boyfriend and son were.

Zack was still the primary person that Mason allowed to feed him, though every once in a while he’d let me or one of the guys feed him. He didn’t sleep well unless Zack was with him, and even though I knew he didn’t need to get used to sleeping with us as night, Zack would never deny him what he wanted. Zack took him everywhere with him, whether it was to go somewhere with the guys, or if it was just the two of them on their own. Whenever Zack was out, he’d often call on the phone just so that Mason could hear his voice. In turn, it brightened Mason’s day tenfold.

Everything Zack had ever done for Mason since before he was even born showed that he would make a fantastic father someday, even when I hadn’t known that he was interested in me, even before I ever found out that I was pregnant. Hell, when we were still kids in high school, I’d known from his caring personality that he would become the perfect family man. It was natural to him. It was something he’d wanted for as long as I could remember, because it was what he was used to. The Bakers, no matter how wild their antics seemed at times, were a great, happily family. I could only assume that Zack would want the same for his own family someday.

And here we were. The start of his family had happened; we were here and there was no turning back. There would be no falling out and breaking up, only to keep a platonic friendship as mother and godfather. There would be no occasional run-ins due to having the same circle of friends. Sure, anything was possible, but still. The circumstances had changed. Everything had changed.

He had been so excited to find out about my pregnancy with Mason, but would he feel the same way this time around, knowing this would be his own child? Flesh and blood, this child would always be his, despite whatever happened between the two of us. How would he react once that realization hit him? It was a big feeling, and it was not to be taken lightly.

I chose to stay silent and took a seat at the bar, watching as Zack continued to feed Mason while making chugging noises like a train. Mason clapped his sticky hands together and smiled up at him, opening his mouth so that Zack could shovel another spoonful inside. Zack hummed and Mason mimicked him, attempting to say ‘Yummy’. I had to admit, it was cute.

Another few minutes, and Mason had began swatting his food everywhere. I watched with amusement as Zack shielded his face with his arms, but it was no use as the toddler was sitting a mere foot from him. I giggled and stood from my chair, taking a chance and reaching around from behind Mason so that I could swipe what was left of the bowl of Spaghetti-O’s.

“Woman, you are my savior!” Zack chuckled, grabbing a few napkins and dabbing at his face and shirt. I grinned and reached under Mason’s high chair to snag the box of baby wipes I kept stashed there, using a few of them to wipe Mason clean. Either way, he’d still need a bath.

“Glad I could be of some assistance to you,” I replied coyly, tossing the used wipes into the nearby waste bin. Hope you still think so highly of me when you find out I’m knocked up, I thought negatively.

Zack tore his now stained shirt from his body, tossing it onto the kitchen countertop and moving to lift Mason from his seat. We’d have to clean that off, as well. Hormones raging, I held my breath and subtly stepped away from my now half-naked boyfriend, feeling a strong urge pass through my stomach. I quickly set to work, wetting a dishrag with some soap water and proceeding to scrub Mason’s high chair from top to bottom, along with the tiled kitchen floor.

The kitchen went silent as Zack and Mason disappeared, no doubt headed upstairs for Mason’s bath. It was just Icky and I in the kitchen, though Icky was curled up in his puppy bed in the corner of the room, fast asleep. Leaving me alone with my goddamn thoughts again.

This was getting ridiculous. I couldn’t keep at this for much longer. Everything I did or everything Zack did reminded me of my impending doom. Everything had me on edge, which consequentially had Zack on edge. Right now, he was a little confused and was trying to give me space to sort through my thoughts, I could see that much. But if I didn’t get it together – and I undoubtedly wouldn’t – then he was going to get frustrated, and take matters into his own hands.

Half the damn time I couldn’t stand to be near him, for fear that he’d take one look at me and I’d break down and tell him everything. The other half of the time, much like this very moment, I was fucking pining for him. I ached to be near him, to have him touch me all over. I was hormonal and sex deprived, which was not a good mix. The second I got close, reality came crashing back down on me, and my mood was crushed. I was sending him mixed signals and I knew it, though I couldn’t help myself.

And apparently this was one of those times.

The second I’d stood up from setting the Clorox spray under the kitchen sink, I turned and was met with a colorful chest filled with ink. A bright, lime green skull with bat wings decorated the pale, smooth skin just before my eyes. I chewed my lip, tearing my eyes away from the tattoos littered across Zack’s upper half and gazed up, catching a rather intense green-eyed stare.

“Z-Zack,” I stammered dumbly, frozen in place as I took in his lustful gaze, “W-what are y-you doing?”

Once again, he was too much in my bubble of space for me to think rationally. I moved to take a step back, but gasped silently when my lower back hit the granite countertop. I mentally cursed myself and took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down. The plan had been working until Zack took a step forward, his front meeting mine as he tenderly took hold of my hips.

An audible moan escaped me as I involuntarily shivered under his touch, causing him to smirk, “Just giving you a little affection.”

“J-just a little?” I shuddered as he snaked a hand around to my backside, caressing my side with the other. He chuckled and leaned forward, taking me by surprise as he swiftly planted a kiss on the underside of my jaw.

“Meh,” he murmured lazily, effectively trapping me with both hands on either side of me against the countertop, pressing kiss after kiss to my sensitive skin, “Maybe a lot. I have to make up for lost time.”

“Lost time?” I breathed dumbly again, resisting the urge to tear his pants clear off his body. I didn’t touch him for fear of losing my self-control, simply leaning as far back into the counter as I could. Not that it helped the situation, as Zack had me completely pinned to the countertop.

That’s when Zack pulled away, flashing me an incredulous stare, “Are you serious? When was the last time that I had the chance to touch you without interruption?”

“I—” I tried to come up with something but stopped, knowing it would only be a lie if I did.

“Exactly,” he murmured lowly, eyes darkening with lust as he gripped my chin in between his fingers. I felt the air leave my lungs as I met his heated stare and my legs turned to absolute Jell-O. Zack’s lips curved into another smirk against my skin as he nipped at my collarbone, his hands running up and my body, “It’s been too long. Let me touch you.”

I wasn’t quite sure what happened next. In a matter of seconds, my top was strewn across the counter, half hanging in the soapy dishwater as Zack sloppily littered my chest with kisses. My knees buckled underneath me, but luckily Zack had a tight grip around my waist. Slowly, we both sank to the cool slate tiles of the kitchen floor, Zack straddling my hips as he tore my bra from my body. My skin welcomed the cool breeze and I nearly sighed in relief, the pressure against my swollen nipples taken away. Zack muttered something incoherently, but I disregarded it as I locked my hips around his waist.

“Fuck, I can never get enough of you,” he muttered in a dark growl, kissing his way down between the valley of my breasts, nibbling here and there, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I knew that was his way of telling me that he was struggling to control himself; a warning. I could tell that that was the case as he crashed his lips into mine, his grip anything but gentle as I felt his nails bite into my hips. After what seemed like such a long time without this much physical contact, it was obvious we’d get carried away. I was thanking God Mason wasn’t in the room to witness this.

Mason. Fuck.

“Wait, wait,” I breathed, detaching my now swollen lips from Zack’s pierced ones, though that didn’t stop him from leaning down and roughly capturing one of my nipples in his mouth. A strangled sound left the back of my throat as I arched my back, clutching his arms, “W-where’s Mason?”

Zack stopped his torment for a moment, pausing to gaze up at me through hooded eyes, “He’s in his playpen.”

With that said, he continued, placing his lips back against my skin as my stomach began doing somersaults. Instinctively, I rolled my hips in return, moving my hands from his arms to his dark, soft hair. Yanking at it only encouraged him further, and I soon found myself flipped over and straddled Zack’s waist.

The kisses I showered his tattooed body with were frantic, hurried. I peeked up through my lashes to see his eyes fluttered shut as a soft groan escaped his full lips, my whispered name following soon after. Leaning a hand on his shoulder, I pressed our naked chests together and ground my hips into his with force.

“Jesus, fuck,” Zack cursed lowly, reaching between us and palming me through the yoga pants I was wearing. I squirmed at his touch, causing a smirk to spread across his face, “I can’t believe we’ve gone this long without sex.”

I exhaled softly, the ball of heat in my stomach intensifying, “I’ve had to work.”

“And if it was up to me, you’d be a stay-at-home mom and would never leave that bedroom.”

I cringed at that, slowing my movements and pressing a kiss to his jaw, “As appealing as the latter part of your idea sounds, I need a job. I’d like to keep my sanity.”

He chuckled at that, “I wouldn’t be so bad. It’d just be Mason and me…only you’d see a lot more of us.” And Baby Baker.

No sooner had that thought left my mind did I jump back into reality. My mood was officially ruined, that much was for sure. Clearly, due to my current condition, the last thing I needed to be doing was getting any kind of ‘carried away’ with Zack. With a sigh, I sat up and rolled off Zack’s lap, reaching for my bra that lay just a foot away.

Furrowing his eyebrows, Zack quickly sat up and stared at me, “What’s wrong?”

There it was. Inquisitive Zack.

“It’s nothing,” I answered half-heartedly running a hand through my now disheveled hair. What else could I tell him? That his comment had reminded me of the ugly truth I’d been trying so hard to forget? I wondered how in the hell I would get out of this, now that I clearly had his attention.

“Nothing?” Zack’s eyes darkened suddenly, “Jesus, what is with you? We were getting ready to fuck in the middle of the kitchen floor after not having sex for like a month, and now you’re turned off and getting dressed in a matter of two fucking seconds? Are you really gonna try to tell me that’s ‘nothing’?”

“I, uh—” I began lamely, but he was quick to cut me off.

“No, cut the shit, Britt,” he practically growled then, using a tone that I’d never heard directed at me before, “You know that I know you better than that. I know you better than you know yourself. You’ve been off for weeks. It’s always something, and whenever I ask you to be upfront with me, you skirt around the issue or look fucking excuses. You fucking avoid it!”

That’s when I knew he wasn’t just frustrated. He was mad.

“Zack,” I sighed desperately, “I don’t mean to upset you, I just have a lot on my mind.”

“So, why don’t you just tell me?” he threw his hands up, standing on his feet as I did, “When have you not been able to come to me and be honest with me before? We were fucking best friends before we were lovers; what the hell is so different now?”

Well, I was pregnant with his first child at the worst of times, for one.

Of course, I couldn’t just go and fucking say that to him. He knew I was holding out on him, and like most males would, he was probably thinking the worst. He knew I wasn’t telling him everything and given our past, it had to have hurt him. I needed to tell him, but was this the right time? While he was upset and on the defensive?

“Just fucking say it, Britt! I don’t get what could be so hard about it!” he took a seat at the bar then, leaning forward on his elbows and clasping his fists together under his chin, fixing me with a critical stare.

I flinched under his heated glare. What the hell was I going to say to him? Now was not the time for a moment of truth or heart-to-heart. I didn’t want to get him any more worked up than he already was; he would be going on a three month long tour in two days. I couldn’t let him start out the tour in such a sour mood; that would be selfish of me.

But what about if I didn’t tell him? My hesitation alone seemed to aggravate him further as his gaze burned holes into the side of my head. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear his legs jogging back and forth under the bar. He was losing his patience; his stony expression was alerting me to that.

I couldn’t convince him that it simply ‘wasn’t important’. For one, that would be a bold-faced fucking lie and if Zack wasn’t pissed now, he’d sure fly off the damn handle at that one. And even if that was the case, he wouldn’t leave it alone until he got to the bottom of it, knowing that if I had something bugging me, it would only get worse as time passed. He was right. He knew me better than I knew myself.

I sighed, in defeat, “Zack, I’m…I— I just…” I’m pregnant.

That’s it. That’s all I had to say. I’m pregnant.

But the words wouldn’t fucking come out. I took a deep breath and tried again, but it was as if my voice had been muted, my vocal chords cut. The look on Zack’s face was one I’d hoped I’d never have to see, and with a shake of his head, he shook his head and abruptly stood from his seat, leaving the room without so much as another word.

Great. Just fucking great.

With a yet another damn sigh, I picked up my half soaked top from the counter and slapped it on, cringing at the damp portion over my left side. I silently made my way into the living room picked Mason up, not wanting to leave him unattended any longer. He held onto the toy motorcycle that Brian had gotten him, clinging to it with one hand while he clutched at my shirt with the other.

Up the stairs I trudged, warily stepping into the master bedroom as I heard Zack rustling about inside. I couldn’t see him, so I figured that he was in the adjoining bathroom and moved forward, setting Mason in the very center of the bed with his toy. He looked around, spotted one of his stuffed animals by the headboard, and began crawling towards it. I kept an eye on him as I inched towards the nearby dresser for a clean shirt.

Stripping quickly, I tossed the wet, sticky shirt in the hamper across the room before turning to the tank top I’d snagged. I didn’t care much about what it looked like so I simply threw it on, straightening it out over the top of my yoga pants and heading back towards my son.

As I crawled onto the bed to sit beside him, Zack emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a new outfit with his hair freshly combed and styled. I frowned and silently watched as he spritzed some cologne over his body and grabbed a bandana and baseball cap to pull over his hair. I figured he would say something as he neared the door, but he didn’t. He was beyond irate at this point.

I picked Mason up and slipped off the bed, following Zack’s quick footsteps as he skipped down the stairs. I watched as he stepped into a dark pair of sneakers in the foyer and grabbed his keys off the hook next to the front door. He was leaving.

“Where are you going, Zack?” I asked with a sigh, balancing Mason on my hip as I slowly approached him. He acted as though he hadn’t heard me, and the muscles in my stomach clenched violently at the thought of him intentionally ignoring me, angry at me. I tried again, “Zack.”

He whirled around then, fixing me with a stare that had me shrinking back with disappointment, “I need some time to myself, alright? I’m heading to Johnny’s with the guys.”

I could’ve argued with him then. I could’ve insisted he stay so that we could talk. So I could apologize for clearly offending him. Because he didn’t need to be driving mad, and he sure didn’t need to go drinking when he was mad. Because even though it seemed to him as though I didn’t trust him enough to know my problems, I needed him now more than I ever had before.

But it was clear that he needed to blow off some steam. There was no getting through to him about any of those things while he was in this state of mind. I chewed my lip, fighting the urge to beg him to stay as he straightened the brim of his hat and walked out the door. It was Mason’s cry that caused him to stop in his tracks and turn around.

In a flash, he was back in front of me and cradling him to his chest, “Mas, buddy, I’ll be back. You be good for your mom while I’m out, okay?”

I stood silently as he ruffled Mason’s hair and planted a kiss on top of his head before handing him back to me. Mason seemed content as he curled up in my arms, resting his head on my shoulder as he watched Zack open the door to his car. Without another word, he climbed in and cranked the engine, tearing through the driveway and down the street a moment later.

I stood rooted to my spot for a while, simply staring after his car as it disappeared from view. A light yank on my hair told me that Mason was ready to go back inside, as it was nearing eight o’clock at night by now. I trudged back inside, closing and locking the front door behind me and making my way to the living room.

I set Mason up on the floor, handing him a couple of toys to play with as Icky trotted over to his side and curled up next to him. The nausea and hysteria was starting to hit me all at once as I sank down onto the sectional and grabbed the remote, turning the TV on and curling up into a ball. I didn’t care to turn the channel, even though I had no interest in what was currently on.

I felt horrible. Zack rarely got frustrated or annoyed with me, and any negative attention he gave me was enough to ruin my day. The only other time I could think of when he’d been upset with me was when I’d been hiding my first pregnancy from everyone and he’d noticed my suspicious behavior. It looked like history was repeating itself, funnily enough.

That should’ve been great fucking incentive to tell him what was going on, right? I thought so.

But no matter how much my mind was screaming at me to let Zack in on the truth, a smaller part of my subconscious brought up a fairly good argument: the only reason I was scared to tell Zack about my pregnancy was because I was traumatized by the rejection of my first pregnancy. Because Michael had run out, frustrated with the situation. And now, I was pregnant again, terrified again, and Zack was already walking out because he was frustrated. And he didn’t even know yet.

History really was repeating itself.