Nicole Fox

“Ice cube?” he asks me, holding out a bucket of them.

“I don’t need a fucking ice cube, Ruslan. I need this baby to get out of my body!”

“Soon, baby,” he assures me. “Soon.”

Or we will, anyway, if this baby ever comes out.” I stare at my belly. “Please come out. Mama’s tired.”

“And terrifying.”

“What was that?” I snap.

“I said you look so beautiful right now.”

“No.” I blurt it before I can think better of it. “No. No. I’m not some little worm under your shoe, Mr. Oryolov. I’m a—I mean, fuck you, I’m a person! I have a life and hobbies and people wh