I Treated You So Wrong

-3, 2, 1-

Things were staring to get shaky again. Matt was beginning to grow iffy about Zacky since he took off a month and a half ago. I’ve assured him that everything was fine and would always be that way. I mean, everything has it’s faults; it’s just something that you have to live with.

I think that Zacky has finally started to wake up and realize that he can’t act like a full-blown child anymore. Well, he realized months ago that he had to mature quite a bit in a small amount of time if he really wanted Matt and everyone else to approve of the choices he and I made. Ever since he came back home from his hiatus, he’s toned down his child-like antics and put on his daddy pants.

He’s been talking to the baby during our relaxing time. We’d be sitting on the couch and he’d press one of his ears to my tummy and just talk. I guess the baby heard him since she’s kicked him many times in the head. Zacky wasn’t upset at all about it. In fact, he’d rolled on the floor a few times from laughing so hard. He said that she definitely had Sanders blood in her; Matt beat on him all the time. Though, it was out of fun, so there was no need to worry about Matt beating Zacky to a bloody pulp by the end of the day.

It was now almost mid December. Zacky’s birthday was tomorrow. He’d sworn up and down, side to side that he didn’t want anything related to a party. He said that it was all too much stress and that Emily was more important than anything since she was due to be here in a few days, it’s like the home-stretch; so close, yet so far away.

Zacky was going to be twenty-six this year. He almost shit himself when I said only four more years until he was thirty. Lets just say that he moped around the house for a week, acting all depressed and bummed. He didn’t want to lose his damn fine physique and non-gray hair. Of course, I had to assure him that even when he was eighty years old, he’d still be hot. I’m not lying when I say he wasn’t the only one being depressed during that week. I’d made myself cry a river with what I said about him being thirty. But now we laugh about it because we were crying like little kids who had their candy bars stolen by the playground bully.

“Zack…” I stuck out my bottom lips as I looked over at him at the other end of the couch.

Zacky looked over with a raised eyebrow, “yes, love?”

“Pretty…pretty please get some of my wheat things and garden veggie cream cheese, please?” Yes, I begged a lot.

My stomach has been just going haywire with grumbles and small cramps. Plus, wheat things with garden vegetable cream cheese is damn good. Don’t bad mouth it until you try it.

Zacky nodded and patted my leg with a smile, “I’ll be back.” He removed my legs from his lap and got off of the couch, then disappeared into the kitchen.

I sighed and put one hand on my stomach and one behind me, on my lower back. Carrying extra weight in the front sure does a number on your back. This one just pulsates, and it’s very annoying.

“Here you go, babe.” He walked back in and set the food on the table and kissed my cheek. I sighed and pushed my fingers into my tail bone and moved them around.

“What’s the matter?” He kneeled next to the couch and put one of this hands on my thigh.

“My back has a cramp…” I pulled my hand away with a grunt and blew my bangs from my eyes.

“Here, I’ll try and fix it.” I nodded and scooted forward far enough so he’d have room to sit on the couch behind me.

I crossed my legs Indian style and put my hands in my lap. Zacky placed his hands on my shoulder blades and pressed the tips of his fingers into my muscles.

“That…feels really good…” I groaned and closed my eyes.

“I’m sure it does,” he laughed and moved his hands lower.

“You have no idea…” I smiled to myself.

“Lean back with a guitar for a shit ton of shows.”

“Sprout a uterus, grow a vagina and get pregnant.” I smirked. “I win this battle, Baker.”

I knew Zacky was glaring, but smiling too, “You may have won this battle, Ms. Sanders, soon to be Baker, but I let you win.”

He laughed and began to massage my lower back.

“Ow…”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Shaking my head, I put my hands on my stomach as he pressed a little lighter.

“Zack…”

“Hm?”

“My stomach hurts…”