"Yup," he said, leaning down to kiss me. His lips softly brushed mine, and I held back from making the kiss more passionate.
"Wanna go to bed?" I whispered.
"Let's just stay here," Nick mumbled, closing his eyes.
"Hon, come lie down," I said, patting the couch next to me. He slowly leaned down, and I slowly placed my head on his chest. His hand protectively went around my waist, and I looked up to see him. "Nick?" I asked.
"Mm hmm?" Nick asked groggily.
"I love you Nick. I love the way you take care of me. I love everything about you," I said, kissing him.
"That's nice," he said, turning his head, trying to fall asleep.
"Do you have anything to say back?" I asked sweetily.
"Not really, good night," I heard him mumble. I replaced my head on his chest, holding back the tears. I had just opened my heart up to him... to all my personal feelings about him, and all I got back was a 'that's nice'? I told myself he was probably too tired to hear me, and wasn't paying attention. I fell into a restless sleep, wondering what Nick really was thinking about me, and whether it was good or bad. I woke up the next morning to Nick gone. "Nick?" I asked.
"Up here!" Nick exclaimed from upstairs, "Didn't want to wake you!"
"What do you want to do today?" I asked, getting up and going into the kitchen.
"Wanna go to the carnival? While I was driving I noticed signs and it's here this weekend!" Nick offered.
"Nick! Are you kidding?" I asked.
"Nope, wanna go?" Nick asked, this time right behind me, placing his hands around my waist.
"Sure, why not?" I replied, getting out some bread and eggs.
"French Toast?" Nick said.
"Yeah," I said, taking out the pan and some butter.
"I am ze best French toast maker in ze world! You go upstairz," Nick said, with a cheap French accent. I giggled at his attempt to please me.
"Going going," I exclaimed between giggles, as he started to chase me out. I neared my room, and grabbed a purple tank top, and a cute pair of jeans. I tried endlessly to button the jeans, and finally got them latched. They'd been harder than usual to get buttoned, I mumbled to myself. To make things worse, the shirt barely reached the top of the jeans. I looked in the mirror and realized like I looked like an oversized 16-year-old. I shrugged, knowing that's how everyone really dressed now, and skipped down the stairs. "Hey," Nick greeted, with a steaming plate of French toast on the table.
"Thanks," I said, kissing his cheek.
"Looks like someone gained a little weight while we were away, huh?" Nick teased, poking my sides.
"What?" I asked, stunned he'd say such a thing.
"Nothing, it's nothing," Nick said, realizing his mistake.
"Are you calling me fat or something?" I asked in disbelief.
"It's nothing, I was kidding," Nick said.
"Well, ya know what Nick? I'm sorry I'm not as skinny as all the other dancers you're around all day. Why didn't you marry them?" I asked, thoughts of last night returning.
"What?" he asked.
"Last night, I said I loved you. I opened up my heart, and all you said? That's good. Thanks Nick, thanks a lot," I said, holding back tears. I pushed past him, and back upstairs. I sat there crying on the bed, thinking about the past week or two. I couldn't believe Nick had been so sweet, so loving, on our honeymoon. He went through such a change. I shouldn't have been complaining, I knew I loved him before that, and I still did. I felt my stomach and remembered the events. "Oh shit!" I yelped. I couldn't remember if we'd used protection, I'd been in such a daze. Nothing moved inside me, just my tears, and I shrugged it off. I'd worry about it later, but I figured it couldn't be true. Nick was so careful. I heard Nick's footsteps up the stairs, and I remembered now. How much he'd hurt me. The tears returned, when he opened my door. "Jess?" he whispered.
"What?" I asked, between tears.
