Positive

Chapter 13

A month later found me searching through Vic's closet, looking for some of his clothes, considering I had gotten much bigger than I used to be, so none of my clothes fit anymore. Vic had suggested me buying new clothes, but I didn't want to go crazy just yet.

I sort through all of Vic's tee shirts, trying to find one that would fit me properly. I knew that in about a month, I would have to go shopping, seeing as I had already gained a good twenty pounds at the least.

The fact that I was gaining weight so rapidly made me feel shitty, since I had been pretty small since I was born. I felt like I was getting fat and ugly, and had a constant fear that Vic would begin to find me disgusting, no matter how many times a day he told me I was "absolutely stunning." I suppose the hormones are to blame, but I can't help it.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, I find a few shirts that would work, and turn around, gasping and blushing when I see Vic leaning on the doorframe with a soft smile on his face.

"What you doing, angel?" He asks, humoring me.

"Vic, I just needed some, uh, clothes, and yours fit me better than my own, so I, uh, I came to borrow some." I say, looking down in embarrassment.

"You're too cute." He whispers, kissing the pout on my lips, then going and grabbing a couple more shirts for me to wear. I didn't think anything of it, until I noticed they were his favorite shirts.

"Here. They're my favorites, but I think I would like them better on you." He smiles, handing the shirts to me before lightly patting my butt and walking back out the bedroom door.

I go into the bathroom, trying on the shirts, not really paying attention to my bare torso, before I look in the mirror and see something I never wanted to see.

I scream bloody murder, and cover my face with my hands, starting to cry.

"Angel! What happened? Are the babies okay?! Are you okay?!" He asks frantically.

"V-Vic. Don't look at me! I'm so ugly, please don't look at me." I sob into my hands. Vic sighs, walking over to me and pulling me into a hug. I burry my head into his chest, my hands still covering my face, and cry for a few minutes.

"Baby, what brought this on? You look beautiful. I don't understand what happened to make you think those things." He whispers into my ear.

"I found-I found a s-s-stretch mark, Vic. There's a stretch mark! God, I'm so ugly now." I start to cry harder, feeling completely out of control of my emotions.

"Angel, you are not ugly. You are absolutely stunning, and I don't care about the little mark at all. You're pregnant with triplets; I expected this to happen. I don't care if your stomach is littered in stretch marks, I will still think you are the most gorgeous person ever, because you are my husband, and I love you more than anything. The stretch mark simply shows that we will have the most amazing gift in a few months, and I couldn't be happier." He says, kissing my forehead, going down to my nose, then landing a soft kiss on my lips.

"I love you so much, a-and I'm excited, too." I stutter out, sniffling and trying to gain my composer.

"Come on, baby, we have an appointment in an hour." He tells me, helping me put a shirt on, then leading me to the bedroom and sitting me on the bed, going about getting himself ready.

"I'm so happy I married you." I whispered quietly.

--

The drive to the hospital was exhausting, to say the least. I was hungry, tired, and stressed to hell.

I was worried about a lot of things. Ever since I found out I was pregnant with triplets, I was worried that everything would be too much for Vic, and he would leave. I was stressed that I would be located by one of the members of the opposing gang. I was stressed that I would miscarry. I was stressed that the babies would be born too early; basically, I was stressed about everything. I knew it was unhealthy to be that stressed about so much, but it feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders, and I can't do anything about it.