The men held Nevvie, cradling her, letting her sob against them. Eventually Tyler scooped her into his arms and carried her to their bedroom. Both men cuddled her, consoling.
Tyler looked at Thomas and read the sadness in his eyes, sure it mirrored his own. A baby, fine, wonderful, but not at the expense of Nevvie’s peace of mind. She was the center of their universe, their princess, their Goddess.
Their wife.
No matter what games the three played, the men knew the truth even if she didn’t: Nevvie wasn’t their slave—they were hers.
She was still mopey later in the day. Thomas gently suggested reconsidering her decision, maybe waiting another year to try. It had only been five months, but each time it was harder on her, more agonizing for the men to watch her distress.
Three days later she still felt depressed, barely eating, staying home and doing little more than stumbling through her daily routine before going to bed early, curled around a pillow. Her grief was theirs and each night they protectively held her and each other, finally drifting to sleep.
Tyler wanted to cancel a four-day press junket promoting his newest book. Thomas insisted he go, that he’d stay home from work while Tyler was gone and take her to Dr. Aston, get a referral to a psychologist, if necessary. Tyler sat with her in bed before the car arrived to take him to the airport, stroking her hair, kissing her forehead.
“Sweetheart, please, don’t do this to yourself. It’s not worth it if you will go through this. We want you to be happy.”
This was the worst. The other times she’d bounced back to her normal self within a few hours, willing and eager to give it the old college try. Maybe it was because she wasn’t on the Pill anymore to even her hormones out.
She shook her head. “I’ll be okay. Please don’t worry. Go have fun. I’ll record the interviews—” She bolted for the bathroom. He made it to her side to hold her hair away from her face as she dry heaved into the toilet.
He called for Thomas, who grabbed a damp washcloth to wipe her face. Tyler looked at him. “I want her to see Dr. Aston today, Tom. Maybe I should stay.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I took a Tylenol for my headache around four this morning, and I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch yesterday. That’s all it is. I should have had a piece of toast or something. Please, go.” She squeezed his hand as they heard the car honk.
“I don’t feel right leaving you.”
She kissed him. “I want you to go. I’d feel horrible if you canceled because I’m a dork.”
He stroked her cheek. “You’re anything but a dork, darling.” He kissed her one last time. “Call me this afternoon, let me know what Dr. Aston says. If she says you need to talk to someone, then you will.”
Nevvie nodded and Tyler stood, kissed and hugged Thomas. “Stay safe, love.”
Thomas squeezed his hand before returning his attention to Nevvie. “We will.”
They sat in the Ridgeline in Dr. Aston’s parking lot after Nevvie’s appointment. Nevvie cried on Thomas’ shoulder.
“It’s okay,” he soothed. It was all he could think to say. Tyler was the one with the right words, and he was in New York by now. Thomas dealt with his spinning crush of emotions, never imagining a diagnosis would flip his world on its axis.
“No, it’s not okay. Dammit, this isn’t what I wanted!” She punched the dash.
“Sugar, life is rarely what we want.”
“This isn’t how I planned everything!”
“Watch it, honey. You’re starting to sound like Tyler.”
She sat back, wiping her eyes. “We can’t tell him over the phone. It’ll break his heart he wasn’t with us. He’ll feel guilty.”
“I agree.”
“If we tell him over the phone, he’ll insist on canceling his trip and coming home.”
“You’re right.”
She stared out the windshield. “He’ll know we’re hiding something. He’s goddamned spooky.”
“Right again.”
“Any ideas?”
He started the truck. “When we get home, I’ll make some phone calls, you pack our bags.”
“Fly up?”
“With any luck we can be there in a few hours.”
“Really?”
“I’ve loved him a lot longer and know him better than you do in some ways. We have to tell him in person, because you’re right, he’ll insist on coming home even though there’s nothing he can do, and if we try to keep this from him, he’ll know something’s up.
Nevvie nodded and stared out the window, Thomas holding her hand on the way home. She was in shock, Dr. Aston’s words still sinking in. There would be tests to schedule, a dizzying flurry of doctor appointments. She knew Tyler would want to take charge and direct everything, channeling his energy into the process to avoid dealing with his own emotions. It would probably be more stressful on him than on her. She knew Thomas would be there for both of them, their rock, their calm in the storm, holding them and keeping the peace, taking care of the big picture while Tyler focused on her.
“We’ll need to call Bob,” she said. “Find out what we’ll have to do, paperwork and stuff.”
Thomas squeezed her hand. “Let Tyler and me handle that. All that matters is keeping you comfortable.”
Thomas booked them on a flight, non-stop to JFK. He rented a car and negotiated the late-day traffic to the hotel. Tyler should have checked in already but he was being interviewed by NPR. They sat in the lobby and awaited his return.
He didn’t see them at first. When Thomas stood, Tyler stopped in his tracks. He rushed to them, sitting by Nevvie’s side on the sofa while Thomas retook his seat. Huddled together she whispered the news, and they held Tyler as he sobbed.
“Would you please sit down? You’re making me nervous.” Nevvie had received medicine to help with the pain and fought to stay awake.
Tyler paced around her hospital bed. As predicted, he’d taken charge once he received the news and recovered from his initial shock. She and Thomas stood back, knowing it was what Tyler needed. It got to the point where Tyler treated her like a china doll, forcing her to beg him to make love to her because he was afraid of hurting her.
She settled for sneaking vigorous quickies with Thomas in his office or when Tyler was gone to the store, able to moan with passion as he gave her what she wanted, to be vigorously fucked, screaming as she climaxed. These grew less frequent as she grew more uncomfortable. She settled for him burying his face between her legs, using his fingers to gently massage her, still a wonderful sensation but she wondered if she’d ever again have what she once did with her boys.
Neither man failed to make her feel beautiful and cherished and loved, but she wanted to feel sexy. In the last weeks she felt anything but. Worried about her and with growing anxiety, the boys even stopped making love to each other, focusing on her.
The bright spots were stunning moments of pure joy and laughter shared by all three. But when the decision was made to take her to the hospital that final morning, a deep current of anxiety and fear ran through them.
Thomas stood in the corner with his arms crossed, staring at the floor. He knew his role. He frequently caught Nevvie’s gaze across the room and winked at her, trying to keep her spirits up. He knew she was scared even though she hid it well throughout. As her face twisted in pain he stood at her side, Tyler on her other, crowding around her to support and hold her.
She gripped their hands. “No matter what, please don’t leave me,” she groaned. “Promise? Both of you. Don’t leave me alone.”
“We promise, sugar,” Thomas said, kissing her forehead. “You know that.”