All or Nothing(66)
20
After a battery of questions and tests from the doctor and nurses, Braydon and I waited in the cold, sterile hospital room still no closer to an answer. They wheeled a machine into the space and dimmed the lights to perform an internal ultrasound to see what was going on inside my stomach. The technician probed me with a little wand and stared intently at the image on the screen.
Our relationship changed in an instant with three little words.
“Congratulations. You’re pregnant.”
The floor of my stomach dropped away. I wanted to pull the bitchy ultrasound tech by her ponytail and demand someone else repeat the scan. Someone who could make sense of this alternate universe I must have entered. Braydon wasn’t even my boyfriend. He’d never be okay with a baby. Then why was he looking at the screen like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen?
“Can you do that again? That heartbeat thingy?” he asked. He laced his fingers between mine and squeezed.
The ultrasound tech used the uncomfortable wand once again. The little black-and-white blob on the screen danced.
“We made that, kitten. You and me,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.
She adjusted a knob on the machine and the thumpity-thump sound kicked up again, insistent and sure. There was no doubting there was a baby in there. Either that or a horse was galloping in the next room. “Based on your last menstrual cycle and the measurements I’ve taken, you’re seven weeks and four days along. Congratulations again.” She removed the wand and handed me a box of tissues. “Go ahead and get cleaned up, and I’ll print some of the pictures for you to take home.”
Once she left the room, my head fell back to the table; I closed my eyes and tried to focus on what I knew I needed to do. I took a deep breath and began. “Braydon, I know you’re probably scared—I am too. But it’ll be okay. I don’t expect anything from you. I have a good job, health insurance, I can support us.” Me and my baby. How I could feel protective over something I’d known about for three minutes, I had no idea. “And there’s day care, and my mom lives nearby in New Jersey. I’ll make it work.” I had to.
His silence dragged on and I finally forced my eyes open and looked at him.
His brows drew together. “No.”
No? I was not giving up my baby no matter what he said. That was out of the question. I’d do fine raising my baby alone, thank you very much. I could already see us—I’d be the cool mom in Central Park with skinny jeans and a chic diaper bag and the world’s most adorable baby on my hip. My mood lifted at the thought.
“This is my baby—our baby—and I will take care of all three of us. I’m not going anywhere. No fucking way.” He pressed a hand over my stomach as if to shield the baby from his curse. “Earmuffs, buddy.” With his hand still resting over my belly, he continued, “My sperm is fucking amazing.” His proud smile confused me. He was happy about this pregnancy?
Braydon helped me off the table and I redressed, then we sat in the chairs and waited for the doctor to return with the photos. I was still too much in shock to do anything more than sit there quietly. But Braydon couldn’t seem to stop touching me, lightly rubbing my knee, holding my hand, or touching my belly. My mind flashed to our unexpected romp in Los Angeles. We’d been too caught up in the moment to use a condom.
“Move in with me,” he said suddenly.
Wow. I laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“I’ve only been to your apartment once—and now I’m being invited to move in?”
“Yes.” He turned to fully face me, gazing deeply into my eyes. “I was too cautious, scared to jump in with you like I really wanted. I could tell you weren’t the type I could have a casual fling with and not fall for. That fucked up all my plans.” He covered my belly with his hands once again, cringing at his curse word. “But I was being a coward. Love is messy, it’s scary and overwhelming at times, but it’s everything. What my parents had, I know my dad wouldn’t have traded for the world, despite how it all ended. And I’m sick of denying how I feel about you.”
After a soft knock, the door opened and the doctor entered. I was thankful I didn’t have to respond to Bray just yet. I had no clue what to say. He was being totally irrational. The doctor sat across from us and handed me the printed black-and-white photos of my little kidney bean, and then began to cover all the prenatal dos and don’ts and what to expect during the next eight months. Basically all of life’s pleasures were being stripped away from me—coffee, alcohol, soft cheeses—but exercise was still encouraged. Ugh. God was definitely a man.