The Bride's Christmas Pregnancy Wish

see what else we'd been missing out on together. I'd read books and seen quite a few movies of the things a man and a woman could do together, and I was eager to try all of them with Nick. Okay, maybe not all of them. There were things in those movies that even I didn't dare try, but most of the stuff looked like fun.

But first, I needed my husband.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I stretched. All of my muscles were tense and sore, but I still didn't stop smiling. The ache in my body was well worth it. Briefly I searched for my clothes, then remembered I hadn't been wearing any when Nick had gotten home. I couldn’t believe I'd had the guts to do something that brazen.

But Emma's idea had worked, though probably not in the way she'd expected. God, she would die when I told her how it all unfolded. She'd probably never stop laughing, if I knew her. Maybe eventually I'd be able to laugh about it, too. For a while though, there was no way I'd be able to make eye contact with Aspen or Christian without remembering how they'd found me.

I considered finding something to wear, then decided against it. Anything I put on would just be taken right off once I found Nick. I wasn't sure what he had planned for the rest of the night, but I had a few ideas if he didn't.

My stomach rumbled as I headed down the stairs, and I remembered that I'd been cooking dinner when Nick had gotten home. I'd expected to find him in the kitchen, finishing the cooking, but the kitchen was empty, along with the rest of the house. I frowned when I realized Nick's keys were gone too.

My heart thundered as worst case scenarios raced through my mind. Why did he leave right after our first time together? Right after my first time? What if something had happened to him when he'd gone out? I went in search of my phone, calling Nick when I found it.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Eventually, it hit his voicemail, and I ended the call staring at it. Nick never ignored his phone, never. Even when it rang in the middle of the night, he always picked it up, just in case it was something important.

But he hadn't answered my call. Which meant either something happened to him or.... Or he didn't want to talk to me. I slumped back into my chair as I stared at my phone, willing it to ring, for Nick to call me back. But it stayed dark and silent, the loneliness tearing through me as tears began to fall. I couldn't stop them this time, couldn't stop the overwhelming wave of sadness and rejection that washed over me.

I'd thought I'd finally cracked the code, that Nick and I could finally move passed whatever was holding him back and truly live as husband and wife. But I'd done the opposite. I'd ruined what little we had together, pushing him away completely.

How could I ever live with myself after that? How would I ever be able to look at him again, knowing how he truly felt about me?

Repeatedly I heard him asking me for a divorce, and I knew I should've just accepted it the first time he'd brought the subject up. He didn't love me. Not that way. We were friends, not lovers. Now, I wasn't even sure if that was true. After the way I'd thrown myself at him, would he even want to be friends anymore? I doubted it. No doubt he would push the divorce again, not backing down this time.

All because I was a stupid idiot. I'd fucked it up so badly, my own husband couldn't stand to look at or talk to me.

Minutes turned to hours. I tried calling again. And again. Anxiety built up inside me. He never ignored my calls. Never. Something must be wrong, or…

It was over.

I brushed away the fresh tears that fell. Instead of sorrow, anger welled up inside me. He couldn't even bother to talk? To tell me how he felt? He had to avoid me, like a child? Could he be any more of an asshole?

I stomped back up the stairs making a beeline for the bedroom. If he wanted a divorce so badly, wanted me out of his life, then he could fucking have it. I would not stick around with a man who didn't want me. If our marriage—if my virginity—meant that little to him, then why should I let it mean anything? Why should I be the only one putting any effort into making it work?

Fuck that.

It didn't take long to pull the suitcase out of the closet and fill it with my clothes and toiletries. God only knew when Nick would come back to the house, but I would not be there when he did. Once I had everything packed, I loaded the bag into the back of my car and took off, not once looking back at the house.

Before I knew it, I was pulling up at Jack's, hoping he'd already left for work and Emma would be awake. I didn't want to run into Nick's brother, but Emma was my best friend. And yet, I still stood on the doorstep, finger hovering above the doorbell for a long while. My heart continued to hammer even as I wanted to turn back and run away. Where else would I go? I had other friends, sure, but no one I was especially close to. Not like Emma.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to force myself to calm down. Working myself into a panic attack would not do me any good. I needed to just suck it up and press the damn button. Then, Emma could help me with my problem. Even if it was technically her fault.

The chiming of the doorbell echoed through the house. I