Unforgiven(93)

I wake up at six thirty and the bed is empty. The sun is bright, illuminating the room through the skylights. Rubbing my eyes, I push myself up and grab my robe. Walking down the hallway, I can hear the TV on and find Matt sitting on the living room floor with Emmy in her little bouncy chair and Abby sitting between his legs, watching Sophia the First while eating a bowl of dry Cheerios. Matt is wearing only a pair of sweatpants, his chest is bare, showing off his tan, muscular skin. His hair is a mess and his face is lightly stubbled with a three-day growth. I’ve never seen him more handsome than he is right now, surrounded by babies.
“Morning,” I say, walking across the living room.
“Princess,” Abby says excitedly and points to the TV.
“Yes, Princess Sophia,” I tell her and she flashes me a giant, toothy smile. I sit down next to Matt and he leans his head against my shoulder. “You look exhausted.”
“I haven’t been back to bed,” he says quietly. “Em wouldn’t sleep. Then, just as I got her settled, Abs woke up.” I laugh quietly, wondering if this is what our life could look like.
“Go rest. I’ll take over. I’ll make some breakfast and wake you up in a few hours.” He shakes his head and lightly pulls on one of Abby’s long, loose curls.
“We’ll sleep after they leave. Landon already sent a text and said they’d be here about eight. He said Reagan is missing the girls.”
“That means he’s missing the girls.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured.”
We sit and watch cartoons with Abby and I change Emmy, getting her dressed in a pink jumper. Matt has a bottle waiting when I bring her back to the living room and he feeds her while I start breakfast. Throwing some bacon in the oven to cook, I make pancakes and cut up fresh fruit to make a giant fruit bowl.
Landon and Reagan burst through the door around seven forty-five and Landon scoops Abby off the floor and into his arms. Abby squeals as Landon peppers her with kisses all over her face. The guys tend to the girls while Reagan joins me in the kitchen.
“Could you seriously have married someone any more adorable or sweet?” she says sarcastically. “I mean, my God, my baby looks amazing in that man’s arms.” She laughs.
“I know,” I sigh, looking at Matt feeding Emmy. “He loves those girls so much,” I admit as I flip another pancake on the griddle.
“How’s it going? Any luck yet?” She scrunches her nose. Reagan knows I’ve been trying to get pregnant and I’ve voiced my concerns of it not happening as quickly as I’d hoped. She advised that I speak with a specialist in her office if nothing happens in the next couple of months.
“Nothing yet,” I say quietly.
“Don’t stress about it,” she says with a sympathetic smile. “It’ll happen when it’s supposed to; it always does.”
“I know.”
“I know I told you to wait to see the specialist, but why don’t you come in tomorrow? We’ll just do some basic lab work. Run some blood and urine tests… just to see if there is anything off.” I immediately feel better and smile at her.
“That sounds like a good idea.” Anything to help ease some of my fears will make me feel better.
“Good; come early on your way to work. I’ll get you in before we start seeing patients.”
“Thanks, Reagan.”
Abby runs into the kitchen, hugging Reagan’s legs. “Mama. Princess,” she says, pointing to the TV again.
“Uncle Matt let you watch princesses, didn’t he?” She narrows her eyes at Matt. Reagan likes to limit the amount of TV time with Abby, but Uncle Matt won’t hear any of it.
“If she’s screwed up as a teenager for watching too much Sophia the First, you can blame me,” he jokes with her, pulling a t-shirt over his head before picking Abby back up and putting her on his shoulders.
Reagan rolls her eyes and sets the kitchen table. We enjoy a nice breakfast with Landon, Reagan, and the girls before they leave and Matt and I spend the rest of the day in bed, watching movies and “practicing.”#p#分页标题#e#
 

 
Reagan shoves me toward the bathroom with a wipe and a small, plastic cup in my hand. “Wipe first, then capture the sample in the collection cup. We’ll do bloods when you’re done.” The bathroom door shuts behind me and I sigh loudly before doing as she told me. I twist the plastic cover back onto the cup, wash my hands, and meet her outside the bathroom.
“Cup o’ pee?” I say in my best Irish accent. She pulls the collection cup from my hands and gives it to one of her medical assistants.