The twins are never on my side and they're not even close to being born yet, I'm growing them and they've already chosen Nathan over me. They allow me to eat whatever he makes me, within reason of course, but I can't stomach a single thing I make myself. Whenever I want to do something, even as small as do laundry, they make me sick, and on the one day I want to be unwell, the babies have given me a day off it seems. I've even been able to enjoy a brownie, something the babies don't like me eating at all.

There simply is no way out of stepping on that ice rink today, as much effort as I make in an attempt to sabotage it unless I admit I'm scared which I've been doing too much of lately.

I've Googled how dangerous it is to skate while pregnant, but I have to remind myself he is a professional and he promised he wouldn't let me fall. I trust him, but I'm still scared of the possibility. I know he wouldn't make me, he's not the type of person to do so. If I decide not to and the nerves get the best of me, at least I won't feel guilty because it's not the only reason why we're going; he's getting some practice in and then showing me around the place.

My phone dings to the side of me, pulling me out of my headspace and I look down, it's a message from Nathan saying that we're leaving in fifteen minutes.

"Shit," I look around and down at my outfit. I'm lying in bed, still wearing my pyjamas, so I rush to my feet and over to my closet to pull together an outfit.

With August nearing an end in three days, the weather is starting to change along with it and I couldn't be happier. I'm not a massive fan of summer, never have been, so I can't wait for the chillier months in New York.

Mindful of today's activities, I change into a pair of black leggings, thick socks, and a grey tank top and throw on a white hoodie of Nathan's that I borrowed last night.

Before leaving to go downstairs, I grab a bunch of laundry that I've been procrastinating to do and take it with me. As soon as I go to open the laundry room door, it swings open and I drop a few pieces of clothing in shock.

"I'm so sorry," we say simultaneously.

He crouches down to pick up the clothes I've dropped and my cheeks flame when I realise one of those items is a baby pink thong.

"Cute panties," he says with a grin, embarrassing me more before he takes the rest of the clothes out of my arms to put away.

"You don't have to," I argue the fact.

"It's okay, I'm already in here anyway," he shrugs it off, and then he looks at my outfit, realising what I'm wearing, "Cute hoodie, too."

"Sorry, it's just that it's going to be cold and this is comfy and-"

"It's okay, Iris, I like it on you."

"Thank you," I whisper.

In many cases, arguments between couples cause a shift in dynamics, especially when you're living together, but three days later, we're in a much better place than before; I think more so because it was heated communication full of vulnerability, than an actual argument from negativity.

My anxiety has also eased a lot in the last three days, I've been leaving my room when I want to, and attempting to make my own meals, not that the babies have agreed with that. I'm even doing laundry by myself... somewhat.

"Okay, that's in, do you want a coffee before we go?" he asks, walking with me into the kitchen.

"Yeah, please, I think I will," I accept; I've been staying away from coffee, but I am still allowed some, just in moderation, of course.

"To go cup, okay?" he looks back to say with a knowing smile, reminding me of the first morning after.

"It's like you're purposely trying to embarrass me today, Fields," I mumble, leaning on the kitchen island to try to ease my back pain.

"Oh, you love it really," he shrugs it off, grabbing two to-go cups from the cupboard.

"Tolerating it, more like."

"You're only lying to yourself, Rhodes."

✯✯✯

Nothing could have possibly prepared me for how cold the arena is in comparison to outside temperatures. Goosebumps rise in places I never knew could be possible and I'm regretting just bringing a hoodie; I thought it would be enough.

"Oh my God, it's cold," my teeth chatter with my complaint.

"You can wear my coat, I won't be practising in it anyway," he shrugs it off, and I go to say no, but what's the point, I'll be cold due to my stupidity.

I put his black puffer coat on and I chuckle, looking at my outfit, "Got four things of yours now."

"Four?" he questions with a frown.

"The twins of course," I smile.

"Of course."

I snuggle into the warmth of his coat, putting my hands in the pockets which still have his keys, wallet and phone in, to keep my hands warm as well. The chill in the air runs colder as we approach the rink, and he turns to the stands and walks up the stairs, not making this easy on breathless old me.

Then he stops halfway and turns to me, "Here's your seat."

"Couldn't I have sat in the first row?" I ask, huffing out a breath because I simply can't breathe.

"You wouldn't be able to see then, would you?"

"Then why does it exist?" I make a very valid point.

"Touche," he hums, putting his arm out towards his seat of choice. "How about I treat you to doughnuts after?"

My stomach rumbles at the thought; that doughnuts were the topic of one of my sticky notes yesterday. "Deal, you're forgiven, but can I have two? You know, one for each baby?"

"You've got a deal," he laughs, and I take a seat, wrapping my arms around myself. "You'll get used to the temperature, don't worry."

"I doubt it, but go practice, you're wasting time speaking with me," I shoo him away, and once he leaves, I take a large deep breath, catching myself up from walking upstairs.

Before pregnancy I never knew you could have such terrible breathing in the first trimester, I thought it was always later in pregnancy due to a bump, but no, I'm eight weeks along and I'm finding it so difficult. I've learned more in the last two weeks about pregnancy than I ever knew before; all I did know was the baseline basics that everyone thinks. Fun fact, morning sickness is not just in the morning like the name suggests, but I think we're all strongly aware of that by now.

While waiting I check through my messages on my phone, and I sigh when I see Aiden's name. I hate that I had to get back in contact with him, but I knew bad blood between us or not he'd try his best to get me a place, instead of turning me away. He owes me after all.

Aiden: 'Found a two-bedroom apartment, could you find a roommate to split the cost, babe?'

The pet name causes me to shiver; he's saying it to be friendly, so I try not to let it get to me, however, it does remind me of what we once were and that I don't need to be reminded of.

Now, I'm pregnant, I alone need a two-bedroom apartment ideally and the truth is, no one will want to be roommates with a newborn baby as a third, so without dropping the bomb on him, I tell a small white lie in my response.

Me: 'I don't think it will be easy at all, aiden, to be honest, but what's the price anyway?'

Within a few seconds, I get hit with a price that has my heart ache.

Aiden: '$3800 a month'

I earned just short of that a month in my last paycheck, but now that I'm living off savings, without an income for me to rely on, it's not even in question. I know I could find an apartment in a rough part of New York for just over a grand a month, it was going to be my backup plan, but now that I'm pregnant, it's not something I'm even going to consider; I won't put my babies at risk like that.

Before I can think of a reply to type back, the sound of the ice suddenly being skated on grabs my attention and I smile when I notice it's Nathan, forgetting all about the messages with Aiden. I'm immediately mesmerised by the way he just glides across the ice so effortlessly like he's in his natural habitat. He looks up at me, flashes a grin and within seconds he's sprinting around the rink, warming up before starting to practise.

Watching him contently with my elbows resting on my knees, minutes pass by in seconds. He works on his attack and his speed; I don't look away once. I fall victim; the time consumes me and the next thing I know, he's stepping off the ice and he's making his way back towards me, an hour had passed by.

"Impressed by what you saw?" he jokes, approaching me.

"I can't get over the irony that you didn't trip once, to be honest," I say, causing his mouth to curl up in amusement, "It really solidifies that you're clumsier off the ice than on, Fields; I've seen you simply trip over your own two feet back at the house."

"Feel more confident in me now?"

"Slightly," I nod, though the truth is, I am more than confident in him, probably far too much than I should be.

"That's good because it's your turn now, sweetheart," he smiles.

"Don't sweetheart me," I scoff, standing up, and I slightly wince at an ache in my hips when I do, not expecting it.

His eyes widen at my reaction, "Okay, maybe not your turn; are you okay? What hurts?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Nathan, don't worry. It's just my hips, my body's changing, remember?" Too much, too fast.

"We don't have to do this today, you're pregnant, and I sense you don't want to anyway-"

"Nathan," I put my hand out, looking up at him in warning, "I want to, I've been trying to make up an excuse all morning to get out of this, but I want to; I trust you."

"I won't let you fall, I promise," he holds out his pinky, and I intertwine mine with it before I stand.

"You better; I've got two mini hockey players in here, they're precious cargo."

"You think they'll be hockey players?"

"Maybe?" I step down the stairs, following him.

"Not one of my girls' is interested, so I'd be shocked," he tells me.

"I have money on little Addison turning around to you one day saying she wants to be like daddy," I say, and he looks at me shocked, "What? She loves being in the cold, she loves sports, she's only four, she may surprise you!"

"You're right, she definitely could," he nods, but then sighs, "I don't think I want my babies to though, I'll be honest."

"I thought you loved it?"

"Yeah, I do, but it's mentally and physically challenging, which yeah, they could do, but I also don't want to see my babies get hurt or die on the ice, it happens too often."

"Yet you're still playing; why?"

"It's hard to give up something you love so much, but I'll know when my time is ready."

I leave the conversation at that, not wanting to step over the line and cross a boundary. It's his job, a job he once said he'd feel completely lost without, which I understand more than anything.

Nathan turns to me with a smile as we stand off the last step, and points to the bench, "Take a seat, I'll help with your skates."

"Is the breathless supposed to be this bad?" I ask out loud, sitting down on the bench where two pairs of skates are waiting for us.

"You have two babies in there, Rhodes," he chuckles, kneeling in front of me, "Your body is new to all this, it's adjusting and you're doing amazing."

I lift my foot and slip it into the snug skate, which he starts to lace up, "Thank you."

Once our skates are on, he takes my hand and my anxiety soars when he takes a step on the ice, because that means I'm next. I hesitate and he notices, "When you were a kid, did you ever rollerskate?"

"Yeah, but that was on the ground, Nathan, this is on ice," I point out with a nervous laugh.

"It's all about trust, keep your body weight on the back halves of the blades, not the front, which means shoulders back too. I'm going to hold your waist the entire time, you won't fall, I won't let you."

With one last deep breath, I step onto the ice, and his hand comes to my waist, holding me when I move my other foot and I'm fully on the ice.

"Remember, weight and shoulders back, bend your knees a little, and I'm going to skate, move with me; you won't fall, just follow."

He slowly moves and I follow, the feeling of the ice grinding under my skates when I do, and though my anxiety doesn't ease, the fear of falling does. Our pace picks up only slightly after a few minutes of getting comfortable, he keeps our circles small and his hold on my waist never eases; he doesn't let me fall just like he promised.

"I'm skating," I whisper.

He looks at me, his smile infectious, "You're skating, Rhodes."

"Once the babies are here, will you teach me properly?" I ask.

"Of course," he answers like it's a no-brainer.

My stomach suddenly turns, nausea twisting in my gut, and I look at Nathan with wide eyes.

"Sick?"

"They don't like it when I'm happy," I nod my head, and he holds my waist tighter, heading us back to safety much quicker than we'd just been skating.

As soon as I sit down on the bench, he picks up the trash can just in time because I'm quickly emptying the contents of my breakfast straight into it. Nathan rubs my back, holding the trash can in front of me and as soon as I stop puking, I sob.

"Hey," he kneels in front of me, "It's okay, we can get back on the ice another day, Iris."

"They hate me," I cry.

He frowns, shaking his head, "They don't hate you, sweetheart, they don't."

"It sure feels like it," I whisper, wiping my tears away, "I can't do anything to please them, every time something good happens, I'm sick."

"You're doing everything, they can't hate you; you're keeping them alive right now, Iris. We were about to finish anyway, let's go get some doughnuts, do you think they still want them?" he asks gently and I start to cry again, "Sorry, I'm sorry, no doughnuts?"

"No, they still want them, we want doughnuts," I whisper, taking a deep breath, trying to get control of myself, "I'm sorry, I just don't know how to cope with these hormones, I thought thirteen-year-old me had a hard old time; God, I was so wrong."

"No, I'm sorry, Iris," he takes my hands, "I'm sorry you're going through this and I wish I could take all the sickness away; I would in a heartbeat, but I can't and it kills me. I can however support you as much as I can and as much as you let me."

"It's not your fault, don't be sorry," I say.

"Let's get these skates off and go get some doughnuts, yeah?" he suggests.

"Perfect, thank you." 

~~~~~~

A.N

Happy New Year!!!

here's chapter nine for you, next chapter is my favourite so far!

hope you're enjoying this book, pls vote and leave a few comments if so x