With a promise that I would still go, see the family, and be civil to everyone, I convinced her to at least delay our arrival. I called Chelsea to let her know and then joined Tria in the kitchen to cook a simple meal.
“Wow! These Braxton Hicks are a lot stronger than they were last week.”
Tria had been experiencing these false labor pains for the past three days. The first day it happened, I freaked out and called Damon to take us to the hospital, where the doctor smiled patronizingly and told us to go home. Tria still had four weeks before she was due, and what was happening was perfectly normal.
“Go sit down,” I told her. I sliced through another onion, but when I looked again, she was still just standing there. Her eyes went wide for a moment. She glanced at me and then down.
“Shit,” Tria muttered, and she ran off to the bathroom.
I rolled my eyes. I swear the woman had to pee about every half hour. I supposed the whole thing was her body’s way of getting her used to getting up ten times a night to feed the baby, but I was getting woken up every time she had to go to the bathroom.
Not that I was complaining. Complaining would likely get me killed.
With the salad done, I flipped through the pages of the tattoo magazine I had grabbed from the gym. I was thinking about actually adding another one—Tria and the baby’s names—but I wasn’t sure where. I wanted them incorporated into the current design somehow, but I wasn’t getting any decent ideas. Maybe I’d just have to go see Emily and ask for some mock-ups or something. I flipped through a few pages, focused on my study.
As a switch turned on in my brain, my body went ice cold.
Tria hadn’t returned.
I screamed her name as I threw the magazine across the room and ran to the hallway. I ripped the door open before I realized she was yelling back, telling me everything was fine.
“Please, get out,” Tria moaned from the toilet. She was sitting there and trying to kind of bend over and kick her pants off her ankles. “I just…just…”
“Just what?” I demanded.
“It’s embarrassing!” she cried out with a sob.
“What is?” I roared.
“I think I peed myself!”
I took a long breath and tried to stay calm.
“Want me to get you some clean clothes?” I offered.
“Yes.” Tria sniffed.
In the bedroom, I yanked open her dresser drawers until I found some underwear and pants. I smiled a bit at the little blue lacy things. I had a feeling it was one from the set Amanda had given her during an impromptu wedding-slash-baby shower Chelsea threw in lieu of an actual wedding reception.
I handed her the clothing through the door, only to have Tria throw them back at me.
“Really, Liam? Do you really think I can wear that underwear?”
“Shit…um…sorry,” I muttered back. I wasn’t sure what I was thinking. She had given up the sexy panties a few months ago. I went back to the bedroom and picked out some others, but before I could even close the top drawer again, I heard my wife moaning.
“Tria?” I called, but she didn’t answer. I pushed open the door and saw her sitting on the toilet all bent over. She looked at my face, and my heart stopped in my chest.
“I don’t think these are Braxton Hicks,” she said breathlessly. “And I don’t think I peed. I think my water broke.”
I was never one to jump to conclusions, but I was pretty sure we were about to have a baby.
Chapter 20—Be the Man
“Don’t panic, okay?” Tria pleaded.
“I’m okay,” I said. I tried not to start Lamaze breathing. Tria was already pissed at me, and that just didn’t seem like a good idea.
“Just…stay calm, all right?” She