Vanessa is almost five months along and starting to show. I’ve never been so scared in my fucking life. We’d decided in the end to forgo the identity thing and just let pin surprise us on D-day. I’m pretty sure I’ll shit a brick if he, turns out to be a she, but I’ll deal. Right now I’m ass deep in nursery constructing. Vanessa has a list of wants a mile long and I’m trying to give her everything she wants. She hasn’t been riding my ass about the shituation with mom as she calls it, and had I not had eyes on her I’d be worried that she was up to something. So far she seems to be satisfied with the status quo, but with hormones and shit you never know.

She does seem a little less tense than she had been, which is what I’d been after all along. Whether she’d been pregnant or not, I didn’t want that for her. When I put my ring on her finger I made some pretty serious promises, promises I aim to keep. It could be because I’d decided to talk things through with her that she was less stressed. I still haven’t told her what I planned to do, but I got from some of her rumblings and the asshole jerk comments that she kept lobbing my way, that she had shit on her chest that she needed to get off.

Basically she needed her man to be a sounding board and to back her. She seemed to need justification for her feelings, which I assured her straight off that she didn’t. If I’d thought for one second that she was at fault for any of this I would’ve been in her ass, but far as I can tell this was a one sided attack. That hurt most of all, that she’d been doing all the things I would’ve expected her to do vis a vis, respecting my mom, and family and trying to fit in; while they’d tried to destroy her.

I don’t see how the fuck she could believe that I loved her and yet would be okay with that shit, but she’s a female, they think differently or some shit.

I felt some guilt for having left her here undefended; she didn’t seem to understand that, until I spelt it out for her. That was one of the reasons why I needed to take care of it now.

When I finally sat her down and we had a talk, she got where I was coming from. Even though she was still of a mind that she should be allowed to have a part in what she calls ‘the destruction of Elizabeth Bathory’. I had to look that shit up because half the time I don’t know who the fuck she’s talking about. All I can say is that my woman has a very prolific imagination and her arsenal of names for mom is limitless.

Now I have a better understanding of her point, but I still can’t let her get involved. All I could do was reassure her that I was always in her corner no matter what and that I would never choose my mother over her, especially when she’s wrong. That seemed to feed whatever beast was in her for now, and so peace have reigned for the last little while. I’m not expecting it to last too long though because she gets antsy very easily these days and any little thing can set her off. Her belief that my mother or dumb ass sister will come out the woodwork and try some shit isn’t unfounded, but it’s my job to keep them away from her. All I want her to do is enjoy the life we’ve made together. I’ve seen enough destruction to last me a lifetime, I don’t need that shit in my everyday life too. If people knew the shit that was going on in the world around them they’d hang up all this petty shit and get their acts together, but I guess that’s too much to hope for.

“Get out of here Nessa you can’t be around paint.”

“I just wanna see.”

“You can see later when the paint dries, as it is I’m not even sure we should stay in the house tonight.” She rolled her eyes and backed out of the room.

“Your cray-cray is showing again.”

“Whatever, go read a book or something ‘til I’m done here. I only have that last wall and then I’ll be done for the day. You want to go out for dinner?”

“Sounds good, where’re we going?”

“I don’t know you pick.” She blew me a kiss and disappeared.

Thirty minutes later I was attacking her in the shower. Now I’ve always loved my wife’s body, let’s face it, it’s what made me make a beeline for her the first time I saw her at a friend’s party. She was visiting my city for a convention and had been letting her hair down so to speak, after all the hobnobbing.




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