Us. | A Joe Jonas FanFiction | Book 3

thirty five.

Get this thing out. I'm so exhausted with being pregnant. Someone just get this thing out of me, hand it over to Joe, and call it a day. Please.

"Baby, are you hungry?" Joe asks from the kitchen, treading lightly due to our previous conversation.

"No," I answer firmly.

He sighs, walking from the kitchen to the living room, standing in front of me only seconds later with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a pickle, and a yogurt sitting on a plate. Also known as my current food obsession.

I glare up at him, though he only gives me a look of knowing, leaving me to huff out a breath and grab the plate, angrily taking a bite of the sandwich.

He immediately sits next to me, but not too close as that has apparently also become a trigger of mine.

After a moment, a wave of guilt for talking to him the way I had flows over me, making me put the sandwich down and place the plate on the coffee table before shifting my body to look at him.

"I know," he says, lifting one arm as an invitation.

Sighing to myself, I go over to him, cuddling into his side before reaching out for the plate again, letting out a grunt as I can't reach it.

He chuckles, grabbing it and handing it to me.

"Thanks," I say quietly, quickly eating the rest of the food before allowing him to put the plate back on the coffee table.

I groan a moment later, scratching my stomach roughly and let out a sigh. "I am so uncomfortable just get this thing out of me."

Joe chuckles. "I think she still needs to cook some more babe."

I huff out a breath. "Well, she needs to hurry the hell up. I'm over being pregnant."

He licks his lips sighing as I attempt to get comfortable on my side, which seems to be a problem.

"And this stupid rule about not being able to lay on your back is fucking killing me. I can't get comfortable."

He stays quiet, adjusting his position so that I can adjust mine... over and over again only to force myself to sit up.

I'm being a bitch. I know I'm being a bitch. I can't help it, though. I'm so uncomfortable and so ready to have this baby out of me that I can't stand it. He can't help it though, there's nothing he's done wrong. It's just me.

"I'm sorry," I say after a moment of silence. "I don't mean to complain or be mean."

He places a hand on my back, rubbing it in circles. "I know. You're at that point in pregnancy where everything is a chore. I remember Dani being in it to. Not firsthand but I saw enough over FaceTime to know it was coming."

I laugh lightly, shaking my head. "I'm so conflicted."

"What do you mean?" He asks, moving my hair from in front of my shoulder to the back, then rubbing my shoulder in circular motions.

"I want this baby out of me so bad because I'm so uncomfortable and I'm over being pregnant. But then I think about the fact that when this baby comes out of me, I'm a mom. And as we all know..."

He nods, continuing to rub my shoulder. "We haven't talked about that in a couple of weeks."

I nod. "I know. I was trying not to bring it up."

He sighs. "You still don't feel you're going to do well."

"How can I?" I ask, looking over at him now. "How could I possibly be a good mother? I damn sure didn't have a good mom raising me. I see Dani do it and all I can think about is how great her mom must've been to teach her how to be as great of a mom as she is."