Read Online Something Blue by Emily Giffin - Free Book Online

hall, I could see his face in the mirror. He looked sad, and that both surprised and softened me.
    “Yes,” I said quietly.
    “Yes what?”
    “Yes to your question. I am happy that you want me,” I said. “And I love you too.”
    He gave me a disarmed look. I had my answer. Marcus loved me. I felt a rush of joy—a feeling of triumph and passion. “I’m calling off the wedding,” I finally said.
    More silence.
    “Did you hear what I said?”
    “I heard you.”
    “What do you think of that?”
    “Are you sure you wanna do that?”
    “Yes. I’m sure.”
    In truth, I wasn’t at all sure, but it was the first moment I could actually picture doing it—cutting the long, safe cord with Dex and starting a new life. Maybe it took seeing Marcus with someone else and realizing that we were over in a matter of days if I didn’t make a choice. Maybe it was watching him lean against his bathroom sink with those sad brown eyes. Maybe it was hearing him use the word love. And maybe it was the fact that the emotional ante had been so raised, I had nowhere else to go but there. It would have been anticlimactic to say anything else.
    Moments later, Marcus and I were having intense, condomless sex.
    “I’m going to come,” Marcus finally breathed, after I had twice.
    “Two more seconds,” I said, crouching over him.
    “Move now. I mean it.”
    So I moved harder, right down on him, not caring that I was in the middle of my cycle, probably at the most perilous millisecond of the month.
    “What are you doing?” he shouted, his eyes wide and scared. “You wanna get pregnant?”
    At that instant, it seemed like a great idea—the perfect romantic solution. “Why not?”
    He gave me a half-smile and told me I was crazy.
    “Crazy for you,” I said.
    “Don’t ever do that again,” he said. “I mean it.”
    “Okay, Daddy,” I said, although I really didn’t think we had hit the jackpot with our effort. There had been plenty of times in my life—especially in college—when I forgot to take my pill or hadn’t been careful enough. But I had never gotten pregnant. In fact, part of me believed that I couldn’t get pregnant. Which suited me just fine. When the time came, I would just hop on a plane and pick up a baby in China or Cambodia. Like Nicole Kidman or Angelina Jolie. And presto, I’d become a glam mom with my perfect body intact.
    “That’s not funny,” Marcus said, smiling. “Go do something. Wash up or pee or something, would you?”
    “No way,” I said, tucking my legs underneath me, the technique my high school friend Annalise described using while she and her husband were trying to have a baby. “Swim, you little spermies, swim!”
    Marcus laughed and kissed my nose. “You freak.”
    “Yes, but you love me,” I said. “Say it again.”
    “Again? I never said it the first time.”
    “Pretty much you did. Say it again.”
    He exhaled and looked at me fondly. “I kinda love you, you freak.”
    I smiled, thinking that I had finally succeeded. Marcus was broken. He was mine if I wanted him. In the days that followed, I floundered, looking for a sign, any sign. Should I choose Dex or Marcus? Marriage or sex? Security or fun?
    Then, one day in early September, a week before my wedding, I finally got my final answer in the form of two parallel pink lines on a plastic, urine-soaked stick.

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    seven
    “What’s it say?” Marcus asked, as I emerged from the bathroom with the plastic stick in hand. He was waiting for me on his couch while flipping through a Sports Illustrated . “It says… ‘Congratulations, Daddy.’ “
    “No way.” “Yes way.”
    “You’re shitting me.” “Nope. I’m pregnant.”
    Marcus leaned back on his couch and closed his magazine. I sat next to him, took his hands, and waited for more. Perhaps an embrace, a gentle touch, a few tears.
    “And… you’re sure… that it’s mine?”
    “Yes,” I said. “That question is insulting and hurtful. I haven’t had sex