The situation was quickly becoming untenable.
Rebecca wasn’t sure how long she could last, living in the midst of the Cold War that was raging in the apartment.
Nico had returned to his workaholic ways with a vengeance. He left early and came home late, and went to the office on the weekends too. He’d even slept at his office once or twice, which she’d never known him to do before.
When he was home, he only spoke to her when necessary. He didn’t even cook their meals anymore, something that used to bring him so much pleasure.
He still went to his gourmet cooking classes twice per week, although she suspected that it was only because it was a way to avoid her more than anything else.
To make matters worse, she felt nauseous and exhausted most of the time. It was normal, according to the pregnancy websites she’d read, but that didn’t make it any more bearable. She was now responsible for getting her own meals together even though she could barely face the kitchen.