Chapter 4 - The Morning After
The morning light broke through the blinds, casting long, pale lines across the bedroom floor. I woke up at seven, my body feeling as though it had been run over by a freight train. Every muscle in my lower back was stiff, and my feet were swollen from the hours of standing the night before. But as I placed my hand on my stomach, I felt a familiar, comforting stretch—a kick right under my ribs.
The baby was okay. For now.
I spent twenty minutes doing slow, gentle stretches on the rug beside the bed before I felt stable enough to walk down the stairs. When I finally unlocked the bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, the house was completely silent.
The smell of lemon cleaner and pine disinfectant hung heavy in the air, almost masking the lingering scent of garlic and roast meat from the night before. I walked down the stairs slowly, holding the rail with both hands.
The living room was immaculate. The folding chairs were gone, piled neatly in a corner near the garage entry. The rug had been thoroughly vacuumed. In the kitchen, the countertops had been scrubbed until they shone, and not a single dirty plate remained in the sink.
Colin was lying on the couch, wrapped in a thin throw blanket that was far too short for his six-foot-two frame. His legs dangled awkwardly over the armrest, and dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes. He looked pale, disheveled, and thoroughly miserable.
As my foot hit the last stair tread, his eyes fluttered open. He sat up instantly, wincing as his stiff back protested the movement.
"Tessa," he said, standing up quickly and dropping the blanket. "Good morning. How are you feeling? How are the contractions?"
"They stopped," I said concisely, walking past him into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. "I need to drink three liters today to stay hydrated."
Colin followed me into the kitchen, keeping a cautious two feet of distance, like a man navigating a minefield.
"Look, Tess," he began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "About last night... I know things got out of hand. I really do. I stayed up until three in the morning cleaning every inch of this place. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you when you woke up."
I set my glass down on the counter and turned to face him.
"Cleaning up the mess you caused isn't a gift to me, Colin," I said calmly. "It was the absolute bare minimum required for you to continue living in this house."
His posture stiffened, a flicker of his defensive tone from the previous night returning.
"I know I messed up by letting them come over without checking with you first," he said. "But Tess, my mother was just trying to do something nice. She thought a surprise shower/help party would take the pressure off us. She didn't mean any harm."
I let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh.
"She didn't mean any harm? She told everyone that the food in the freezer—the food I spent two months prepping while in severe physical pain—was cooked specifically for them to feast on! She watched me walk around looking for towels and trash bags while I was supposed to be on bed rest, and she didn't lift a finger. And when I spoke up, you told your entire family that I always complain before I cave!"
Colin flinched at the reference to the text message. He looked down at his bare feet, unable to meet my eyes.
"I shouldn't have sent that," he muttered. "It was a stupid joke. I was just trying to diffuse the tension in the chat because my mom was complaining that you looked annoyed when you walked in."
"A joke?" I stepped closer to him, my voice dropping an octave, deadly serious. "You humiliated your pregnant wife to make your mother feel better about steamrolling our boundaries. You treated me like an hysterical obstacle to your family's fun."
Before Colin could respond, the heavy rumble of a truck engine sounded in the driveway outside. I glanced out the window and saw my sister Maya’s black pickup truck pulling up behind Colin’s car, followed by her husband, Mark.
Colin looked out the window and groaned, running a hand over his face. "Why are Maya and Mark here? Did you call them to gang up on me?"
"I called my sister because I need support from people who actually care about my health," I said, walking toward the front door to unlock it.
Maya didn't even knock. She pushed the door open, holding two large tote bags, with Mark following behind carrying a large cooler. Maya took one look at Colin, her eyes flashing with pure fury.
"Don't even speak to me, Colin," Maya warned, raising a hand as he opened his mouth. "If I talk to you right now, I am going to say things that will end your marriage today."
Mark gave Colin a somber, disappointed look—the kind of look one brother-in-law gives another when a line has been crossed that can't easily be undone. Mark didn't say a word; he simply walked straight past Colin toward the kitchen and set the heavy cooler on the island.
"What is all this?" Colin asked, looking bewildered as Maya began unpacking containers from the bags.
"This," Maya said, slamming a glass dish of baked ziti onto the counter, "is real family support. Mark and I spent the last three hours cooking and grocery shopping. We brought fresh ingredients to help Tessa replace the freezer meals your ungrateful relatives devoured last night."
Colin’s face flushed. "You didn't have to do that. I was going to handle it."
"With what?" Maya scoffed, turning on him. "With takeout? With a box of pre-made frozen pizzas? Tessa spent weeks making specific, nutritious, low-sodium meals tailored for her postpartum recovery. You don't even know what went into those recipes, Colin! You don't care because you don't think about anyone other than yourself and your mother!"
"That's enough, Maya!" Colin snapped, his pride finally snapping. "This is my house, and this is between my wife and me. You don't get to come in here and lecture me!"
"Actually, she does," I interrupted, stepping between them. "Because right now, Maya is doing the job you were supposed to do. She is taking care of me."
Colin looked at me, his eyes wide with hurt, but the anger was rapidly draining out of him, replaced by a growing realization of how isolated he had become.
"Tess, please," Colin said, his voice cracking. "Can we just talk? Just the two of us? Privately?"
I looked at Maya, who gave me a supportive nod, and then at Mark, who stood quietly near the door.
"Fine," I said to Colin. "We’ll talk in the office. Maya, Mark, thank you. I'll be right back."
I led Colin into the home office down the hall and closed the door. The small room was quiet, lined with bookshelves and a single desk. I sat down in the office chair, exhausted from standing, while Colin paced nervously on the rug.
"What do you want to say, Colin?" I asked, crossing my arms over my bump. "Because if you are about to ask me to apologize to your mother, this conversation is over."
Colin stopped pacing. He dropped to his knees in front of my chair, reaching out to take my hands. His hands were shaking, and for the first time, I saw genuine tears welling in his eyes.
"I don't want you to apologize to her," Colin whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I swear I don't. Tess, I was wrong. I was so wrong last night. When I saw you grab your stomach when that contraction hit... I was terrified. I realized I had put you and our baby in danger just because I was too cowardly to stand up to my mom."
I looked down at his hands wrapping around mine. Once, this gesture would have melted my heart completely. Now, it just felt heavy.
"You've been cowardly with her for years, Colin," I said quietly. "Every holiday, every vacation, every boundary we agreed on—you abandon it the second she pushes back. But this wasn't about a holiday. This was about my health and our baby's safety."
"I know," he sobbed, burying his face against my knees. "I know. I ruined everything. Please tell me what to do to fix this, Tess. I'll do anything. I'll call my mom right now and tell her off. I'll ban them from the house forever. Just please don't pull away from me."
I looked down at the top of his head, feeling a profound mixture of grief and clarity.
"Calling your mother and screaming at her in a panic won't fix this, Colin," I said softly. "You need to figure out why you are more afraid of disappointing her than you are of failing me. And until you figure that out, I cannot trust you in the delivery room."
Colin froze, slowly lifting his head to look at me, horror written across his face.
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"What do you mean?" he breathed. "Tess... I'm your husband. I'm the father. I have to be in the delivery room."
"Not if you're going to hand my mother-in-law a key to the birthing suite when she demands it," I said firmly. "Not if you're going to tell me I'm 'complaining' when I'm in active labor. If you want to be by my side when this baby is born, Colin, you have six weeks to prove to me that you are my partner—not your mother's son."
