Several months later...
"No, I won't even consider it. Don't be stupid."
I knew Seth could be stubborn, but he was taking it too far this time. He was gonna shoot himself in the foot career-wise just because I was pregnant. And I wasn't anywhere near done being pregnant, so him refusing to go on tour for his latest album was completely asinine, ridiculous, and anything else I could think of.
"Seth, you haven't put out a new album in years. This album has gone out and has sold so many copies you're going to be platinum before too long. You have to tour. There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it. You have to get out on the road and you have to tour."
"Dammit, Mike. You of all people should understand why it's just too damn dangerous. I'm not going to go on tour dragging a pregnant partner with me. God knows what can happen to you and the baby. We're always moving, we're always stopping, sure we sleep in the tour bus but come on, that's not like being here in the house. You don't have that much room in the bus, plus, being jostled by the bus moving all the time can't be good for the baby."
This argument had been going off and on for days. The record label's Brand Manager had called, wanting Seth to tour. It would be a huge tour, hitting all the big cities. It would drive his album sales into the stratosphere. Seth deserved this. If I didn't love him so much I'd smack him upside the head.
I was only four months along right now. No one could even tell I was pregnant. It would be no problem at all to go on tour with him. I needed to be there to support him, to help him stay away from drugs and alcohol; plus it was hard for two people in a relationship to be separated for any length of time. Hell, I could even fly on a plane during the third trimester. He was just being ridiculously overprotective. I loved that he was being protective of me but, come on.
"Seth, I don't even know how to deal with you right now. You're being fucking stupid. I'm barely pregnant. You heard the doctor, he gave me a health check and said there's actually nothing wrong sleeping on the tour bus while it's driving on the interstate."
"The tour bus could crash. Metallica's bus crash? What about Def Leppard's drummer? What about everyone else who's crashed in their tour bus? It's completely stupid, asinine, and irresponsible for you to go out on the road. And I am not leaving you alone like this."
I turned around, stomped to the patio doors, and went outside. When he got like this there was nothing I could do about it. I had no idea how to prove to him that this would not be a problem. I could fly to meet him in the cities so I wouldn't have to sleep on the Rolling Bed of Doom. But he wouldn't agree to that, as going through the metal detector and flying would harm the baby. I agree with him about the metal detector and body scanner, but did he forget about private planes that we could charter? No x-rays at all, you just walk onto the plane. He was so freaking stubborn.
I started walking into the backyard. I was gonna walk until I hit the fence then turn around and come back. Maybe by then I'd overcome my urge to strangle the life out of him. I was not going to ruin his career. I didn't want him, in a few years, to blame me for his career not coming back or something. I didn't think Seth would do that, but I didn't even want it as an option.
Plus, if he didn't tour now and he wrote another album, then we'd have the baby and he would have to tour then. What would he do, not tour? Would he not tour until the child was five? By then we could have even more kids. Other musicians toured with their whole families. Why couldn't we?
I’d given him time to get over it, but he hadn’t gotten over it for weeks and that was when I started bringing it up, and that was why we'd been having this argument for several days now. I had no idea what to do to convince him it would be a good idea.
I kept walking through the backyard, listening to my trainers crunch on the dirt of the desert. I walked around the prickly pear cacti and the yucca plants. You know, he didn't even have to be on a tour bus. He could fly, do the concerts, and then fly back home. But no, he didn't even want to do that. He didn't want to be away from me in case something happened. Holy shit, I was so fucking frustrated.
I kept walking. I wiped some sweat off my forehead. I was thirsty. I stopped in my tracks. Oh, for fuck's sake, I forgot to bring some water. I was so fucking mad that I stormed off and didn't even think to bring water or sunscreen or anything. Shit. This would be all the proof Seth needed that he couldn't leave me alone for a second. Dammit.
I turned around and started following my tracks back to the house. I didn't know how long I had walked before I heard a rhythmic pounding coming towards me. It looked like Seth finally noticed I'd taken off. Great. I couldn't even sneak back in before he saw me. Fuck. He would probably tie me down to a couch for the rest of my pregnancy. Or have Gabby stay on me 24/7. Dammit, dammit, dammit.
I started to see a shape in the distance getting larger. It was Seth carrying two water bottles. As he came closer I noticed that he also had a backpack on. Exactly how much water did he think I needed? I mean, I loved having an overprotective Alpha—what Omega didn't—but this was getting fucking ridiculous.
Seth stopped in front of me, glaring. If I didn't know he loved me, I'd be a little scared. I tried to walk around him but he put an arm out and stopped me. "Not on your fucking life. Stay right there. You can drink some fucking water before you take another step."
Seth pulled off his backpack, not even taking his eyes off of me, pulled out a bottle, and shoved it at me. I twisted off the top and drank. Oooh, it was ice cold. I guzzled and guzzled, paused to let out an epic burp, and then drank the rest of the bottle. Like I said, I'd been thirsty. "Seth, I'm sorry. I was so fucking mad at you, I just stormed off. I didn't even think of water, sunscreen, sunglasses, anything. Thank you for bringing me some water."
Seth pursed his lips and nodded his. He still looked absolutely furious. And he had a good reason. I handed him the empty bottle, started walking, and was promptly stopped again by Seth's arm. "I don't think so." I turned to look at Seth as he put the backpack on. He grabbed my hand, then we both followed the trail back to the house. Maybe he wouldn't yell at me? No, he was definitely going to yell at me.