"Carter…" I whispered as I watched his intense gaze staring at the screen. He didn’t respond to me, just stared straight ahead, holding my hand tightly.
"Carter?" No response. Oh God this wasn't good at all. Please don't let him have a meltdown right here in front of the doctor. He'd just wrapped his brain around one baby. My stomach flip-flopped at the idea that we would now be bringing two babies into our home.
"Carter?" I squeezed his hand to shake him out of his shock.
"Twins?" he whispered.
"Twins, Mr. Morgan," the doctor replied with a gleam in her eye.
"Fucking hell," he whispered and collapsed on a chair next to the table. My mouth dropped open in shock. That certainly wasn't the reaction I was expecting.
Twelve
"Are you okay?" I held his hand as we stepped out into the chilly December air. I directed us both toward the car. Carter still had a dazed look on his face.
"Yeah," he grumbled. We reached the car and I stopped.
"Are you okay to drive?"
"Of course." He helped me into the passenger seat and then strode around to the driver side. I twisted the strap of my bag in my hands. He was so clearly not fine. Not fine at all. I had just gotten the news that we were expecting twins too; it was a shock, but I certainly wasn’t going into shock. I wanted to haul off and deck him at the moment.
"Where are you going?" I looked out the window and took notice of our surroundings.
"Home," he replied.
"I thought we were going to lunch." My stomach was empty and not happy about it.
"Oh, right." He moved into another lane of traffic. "Anywhere in particular?"
"You're asking me?" I arched an eyebrow in surprise.
"Of course."
I rolled my eyes. Of course my ass. Carter never asked my opinion on where we were eating. Ever.
"Wherever. Somewhere close, and fast. I'm starving." I rubbed my tummy.
Carter slid into a parking spot in front of a deli. I jumped out of the car and bee-lined for the door with Carter a step behind me. We ordered sandwiches and then sat at the only available table in the crowded room.
I took the pickles off my sandwich and ate them separately. Carter huffed from across the table and then picked them off his sandwich and set them on my plate. I smiled up at him. It felt like he was coming back to normal, at least marginally. I ate his pickles and then took a bite of my sandwich. I chewed and watched him.
He inspected his sandwich before taking each bite, but I knew he wasn't really seeing it. His mind was racing with the information we'd just been given. I took another bite and chewed and then set my sandwich down. I took a drink of my lemonade, my eyes on him the whole time. I could see that his beautiful steely blue irises were a million miles away.
"I know it's a shock," I offered.
"Yeah," he breathed a sigh.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he answered again without looking at me.
"Carter, seriously. You're worrying me. Or killing me. Or I’m going to kill you. I haven't decided yet."
He finally looked up and his eyes met mine. They melted before my eyes and came back to normal. I reached for his hand across the table.
"We're going to be okay. It's a lot, but we can do it." It was my turn to reassure him. He'd been telling me throughout our entire relationship that I was it for him; that we were meant to be together. Now it was my turn to tell him that this was exactly how it was supposed to be and somehow we would manage. I had complete faith that not only would we survive two screaming toddlers ransacking our house, but we would also thrive together. I smoothed my thumb over the knuckles of his hand. "I promise."
A half-hearted attempt at a smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
"I love you more than my own life." He lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss there.
"I know." A happy smile lifted my cheeks. He rolled his eyes at me with a grin. "I love you, too." I beamed back at him.
"I’m sorry I was a basket case back there." He dusted his lips along the knuckles of my left hand.
"And that you swore in front of the doctor?" I arched an eyebrow.
"I did?"
"I believe the exact words were 'fucking hell'."
"Oh, right. I'm sorry for that too." His eyes danced with amusement.
"Are you okay now?"
"Yes. I just needed a minute to process." He set my hand back on the table and sipped through his straw.
"I know. Me too." I plucked a pickle off my plate and popped it in my mouth. "So no more breakdowns?" I watched him cautiously.
"Nope." He grinned at me.
"Good, because I thought we could shop for baby clothes. Maybe furniture, too."