Forever In My LIFE (Book 4) 2nd Alternate

Part 7

The next couple weeks my body goes into overdrive, or more specifically, my breasts. I'm in my closet the morning of our appointment and I let out a loud growl as I'm struggling to squish them into the cups of my bra. In frustration, I unhook the bra and fling it onto the floor, now I'm standing naked from the waist up. I cover my face with my hands and start to cry right as Prince walks in, "Sugar, what's wrong?"

I grab my breasts, "These things are huge! I can't...my bras won't fit."

He nods patiently, "Well, I like them, so..." he pauses when I glare at him, "we'll get you new bras, okay?"

I'm gently pulled into a hug, and he soothes me with long strokes up and down my bare back. Instantly, I feel childish, and I start to cry again, "I'm sorry for acting like this."

"It's your hormones, Sugar, you're fine," he pulls away to kiss my forehead. "And those," he looks at my breasts, "are super fine." He punctuates this with an eyebrow wiggle before cupping and lifting them gently, "Nice. They're heavier," he muses.

"Tell me about it," I roll my eyes as he lowers and releases them.

Together we dig through my bras and find one that isn't as uncomfortable, and I'm finally able to finish dressing. I eye myself in the mirror and Prince is quickly behind me, placing his arms around me, his hands rest over my expanding belly. I huff, "That isn't all baby, I'm bloated."

He spins me, "You're beautiful, even if you are bloated, but Sugar, we're going to be late if we don't get moving." I quickly get my makeup on and we are out the door and in the car in short order.

After all the fuss and drama I felt I put us through that morning with getting ready, the appointment was anticlimactic. Weight, measurements, urine test and some stomach palpitations and we were free to go. We did, however, pass the doctor who saw me after the miscarriage on our way out. Prince and I both gave her a curt head nod as he protectively steered me towards the waiting room.

With my next appointment will be the end of February, and his tour starting in just over a week, we plot out the change in scheduling to put us back in the states by then. "It'll be fine, Sugar, I'm not going to miss this ultrasound," he assures me.

Danielle is called, new undergarments are purchased, and several early maternity dresses are prepared before we have to leave for London.

*******

London's Electric Ballroom is Prince's first gig in the UK, and much to my concern he has decided that, after first show, to add a second show for the fans that are still waiting outside in the rain on this opening night.

"Two?! In one day? You can't," I plead with him.

"Sugar, 'can't' is not in my vocabulary. I need you to go back to the hotel and get some rest, please." The discussion is over as far as Prince is concerned.

I place my hand on my growing belly, "I want to be at all of your shows," I confess.

He shakes his head, "Not tonight, it's too much. I won't have you jeopardize our baby by pushing yourself too hard."

"What about you? Remember the whole spring chicken thing? It still applies," I argue.

He approaches and cups my face in his hands, "Sugar, I will be fine," he kisses my lips, then bends to kiss my belly. He places his hand where he had just kissed, "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

He grins, and struts back out onto the stage. Kirk is sent to escort me back to the hotel, when Prince is set on performing, he doesn't take 'no' for an answer.

There was one single show after this first double, then he repeatedly kept adding shows as he went to each venue, doing three in one night at the Koko on Valentine's Day. This marathon performing had me worried, and I stayed at each show, dancing at the edge of the stage until Prince deemed it time for me to rest.

I was relieved when he decided not to add any more shows the last two nights he performed in Manchester before we had to return to the States for my 19 week appointment.