The technician asks me a round of the same questions I just answered in the doctor’s office, and I repeat each answer. Last menstrual cycle. Average cycle length. That delightfully mundane stuff. Then, finally, Jase and I are glued to the monitor as hazy black and white snow fills the screen.
It doesn’t take long for something to materialize, and when it does, I gasp.
A baby. A fully formed baby, with arms and legs, waving madly as if it knows we’re looking. I actually hear Jase make a surprised noise beside me, and when I look at him, he’s beaming. I blink back a grateful tear as I pay attention to the screen, trying to follow the measurements but in the end just watching tiny limbs as they dance around.
The technician stops for a moment and leaves the room, calling “un minuto,” as she leaves. I look at Jase. “Do you think she’s worried?” I ask.
Jase shakes his head. “Nah. Maybe she’s getting someone to tell us in English.”
I nod. Yeah. That has to be it.
The doctor bustles in and takes one look at the screen, then nods at the technician. “See these three lines?” he asks us, pointing to the screen.
I peer at what I think are three lines, but I can’t even see what context they’re in. The limbs are gone now, and this is a close up of something. Of what, I’ve no idea.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, my stomach sinking.
“No,” the doctor says quickly. “Everything is perfect. Three lines means a girl.”
Everything is perfect. Three lines means a girl.
I start a chin wobble that will surely dissipate into a stream of tears. “It…she…is okay?”
The doctor frowns, handing me a print-off of several grainy pictures that show our perfect baby in various stages.
“Madam, I am not sure what has happened to you to make you question your baby’s health,” the doctor says cautiously, his eyes dropping to my scarred stomach. “But I can assure you, from everything we can see now, your baby is in perfect health. You’ve passed the danger period, so you can go ahead and start telling people now.”
I nod, relief flooding my veins. “And the conception date, was that accurate?” I feel Jase tense beside me. The doctor scans his paperwork and nods. “Usually a conception date is hard to pin down, but in this case, your due date tracks perfectly with the baby’s size. You must keep a good diary.” He winks at me, and I can’t suppress the smile on my face. Jase kisses the top of my head.
A little more of the wall I’ve built around my heart crumbles. I let myself sink into the feeling of relief that floods me, just for a moment.
Because I can finally believe the words I keep whispering to myself in my darkest moments of doubt.
Everything is going to be okay.
That night, the house is silent. Luis is off somewhere and Elliot is gone, back to his girls, and hopefully to force grandma to leave her house in case Dornan decides to pay her a visit. I decide to take a shower after dinner and get an early night. Pregnancy is kicking my ass all of a sudden.
As I turn off the water Jase appears in the bathroom. We’ve been fairly intimate, kissing and holding each other, but he hasn’t seen me naked since Dornan cut my tattoo away. I’m so self-conscious now, and I make sure I’m always covered up.
Jase hands me a towel, and I wrap it around myself, stepping out of the bathtub onto the bathmat. “There’s still some hot water left,” I murmur, not looking at him as I reach for my toothbrush and toothpaste. Thanks, Luis. The guy thought of everything - he’s even got bottles of prenatal vitamins stacked up on the kitchen counter for me.
“Thanks,” Jase murmurs, giving me a lingering kiss on the top of my head as he steps past me.
Jase takes his shirt off and drops it to the ground, and I do a quick brush and rinse, shoving the toothbrush back in the makeup bag Luis also bought me. I have a feeling I owe the dude a lot, and not just money. I owe him big time for setting all of this up for us, for helping us, for those sweet, reassuring yet cryptic words he uttered to me while I was still Dornan’s prisoner. It’ll all be over soon. I wonder if he had already started buying me vitamins and toothbrushes when he spoken those words in my ear.
I turn and lean against the sink, watching as Jase sheds the rest of his clothes, placing his gun on the windowsill in the shower. He’s obviously still on edge, which makes me think he either needs to relax a little, or I need to get my own gun to keep on me at all times.
He’s about to step into the shower when I step forward, completely on impulse, and tug his hand. He looks down at my hand and then to my eyes, and I smile back at him almost shyly.