Accidental Surrogate

Ella

It’s been three weeks since the ball, and though I can scarcely believe it, it seems like all the campaign drama passed with Solstice. There has been nothing but calm since the holidays, and I’m beyond thrilled that I’ve been able to relax a bit, even though part of me is waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under us.

I’ve spent my time pouring over baby books, making plans for our nursery, and brainstorming baby names – and the best past is that I’ve felt less nauseated and achy every day. In fact, yesterday marked the beginning of my second trimester – since shifter pregnancies are so short – and it seems impossible to think my baby will arrive in four short months. My stress has already eased knowing I’m leaving the most vulnerable phase of my pregnancy behind, and I don’t even mind that I’ve been seeing Sinclair less now that he’s gone back to a regular work schedule.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I miss him. I miss him much more than I should, but I’m also grateful for the space. It’s much easier to resist our attraction to each other when we’re not constantly together and taking part in intimate rituals and romantic outings.

I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn. The little voice in my head mutters. If you’re going to give in eventually, why not throw in the towel now and enjoy being together in the last months before the baby comes? You do realize that in another four months you’ll never be alone again.

I’m not having this argument again. I decide. We agreed it’s better for the baby if we can co-parent without our own relationship drama getting in the way.

You mean you decided and he went along with it because he doesn’t know it’s such a stupid reason. My conscience snipes.

It’s not stupid! I insist. I’m going to be a mother, I have to put my baby first – that’s what being a parent is all about.

You keep telling yourself that. The voice derides. We both know you’re just a big scaredy cat.

Oh put a sock in it! I exclaim, losing my patience. “Stupid conscience.” I mutter aloud, sorting through the clothing racks in my giant closet and trying to choose an outfit for our parenting class tonight. “Uppity, annoying, impossible…”

“Talking to yourself, trouble?” Sinclair’s deep voice breaks through my angry diatribe, and I jump about ten feet in the air.

I find him leaning in the closet doorway, watching

and pulling me into his arms, petting me gently. “I’m sorry.” He croons, kissing my

object, feeling irrationally angry all of a sudden. “It’s your ridiculous shifter stealth that’s the problem. It’s not right that anyone as big as you should be

fault, I’m a big hulking beast

him, narrowing my eyes. “Are you laughing

way I can answer that question that won’t

with an answer. I turn back to my closet, beginning to rifle through trouser options.

tight to entirely too small. My breasts might not be so tender anymore, but they spill out of all my bras, and my favorite fitted tops now stretch and strain to cover my growing tummy. “That’s a good thing, Ella.” Sinclair reminds me gently. “It means the baby is growing big and

so determined to disagree with everything he says. “All that means is that your giant pup is coming closer to pushing my body past its limits. Normal women don’t show this much at this stage you know.” My throat

having a rough day, aren’t you, sweetheart?” I can hear the guilt in his voice, and it makes me want to cry all the more. He’s been working from home a lot and I can tell he feels like he’s neglecting us, but there’s also nothing to be done. He bears so much responsibility, and it’s only going to get worse if he wins the crown. Suddenly I feel terrible for being so grumpy with him, when he’s already blaming himself despite doing everything he

“I shouldn’t be giving you a hard

wrap dress from the clothing rack. “Here, no buttons, no zippers. You don’t even have

had my fill, and half an hour later we’re back on the padded floors of our monthly birthing class,

some intense mood swings, as well as physical changes to things like hair growth or skin pigmentation.” She looks around at the couples spread

encourage you all to take advantage of, as you won’t have time for much fun after your

constant extremes. The instructor is still speaking. “Bottom line, mates, it’s your job to keep Mom satisfied and relaxed during these next few

advice in human birthing classes. I mutter to

sounds in my mind. You should see the look on your