“You don’t have to. I can manage on my own.”
I ignore that and carry her off the bed.
“Anton,” she protests halfheartedly. “I can walk.”
Again, I ignore her. I take her into the bathroom and sit her down on the closed toilet seat. Then I start unbuttoning the front of her dress.
She’s wearing a nude colored lace bra that barely covers her n*****s. Her breasts have gotten slightly bigger. It’s the only real evidence that she’s pregnant.
She stands shakily, and I push the dress down her hips. Her panties are nude and lacy to match, though the front is stained with blood.
When I reach for them, she backs away from my hands.
“Anton, you really don’t need to do this.”
“You can send in one of the nurses,” she suggests. “Or I can do it myself.”
“Jessa, will you stop being childish? I’ve
