Thomas asked sleepily from beside me as I sat up, rubbing my belly. “You okay, babe?”I turned my head to tell him I was okay, and the small movement sent a rush of nausea through me. “I’m going to be sick,” I whispered, bolting from the bed. I ran to the bathroom, just barely making it to the toilet before I threw up.Thomas was right behind me, rubbing my back and smoothing my hair away from my face. I groaned. “Go. You don’t need to see me all gross.”“Yeah, right,” he said, dropping to his knees so he could better rub my back. I bent over the toilet and retched again and again. Finally, when there couldn’t possibly be anything left in my stomach, I sank back onto my heels and flushed the toilet.“Here.” Thomas handed me a tissue, and I wiped my mouth.I moaned. “I feel like I just got hit by a truck.”“You’re all clammy.” He sounded worried. “But you don’t feel hot.”“I think I just need to lie down.”Thomas insisted on carrying me back to the bed then laid me gently on my side of the bed.
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