Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Suzie
Dr. Victor adjusts the scanner over my stomach, his movements careful and precise. I barely register his explanations, too caught up in the whirlwind inside my head. My fingers grip the blanket underneath me, knuckles white as I stare at the ceiling, trying to block out everything—every fear for my baby, and my heartbreak.
I still can’t believe Pete and Dexter just walked out again. After all those promises. All those gifts.
I should have known better.
The sting of their departure clings to me, making it hard to focus on the doctor’s quiet reassurances as he moves through the scans.
“Everything looks good so far,” he says, his tone calm and measured. “But I want to double-check a few things.”
I nod numbly, the doctor’s words slipping past me. All I can think about is Pete and Dexter’s expressions. Or more accurately… their lack thereof.
No anger. No joy. Nothing.
It’s like they didn’t even care.
The scan feels like it drags on forever, but eventually, Dr. Victor straightens up, offering me a kind smile. “Good news, Suzie. Everything looks fine. Your baby is showing a strong heartbeat, and no signs of distress. Granted, it is still very early in your pregnancy and there is still a lot of risk, but I’d say you have a guardian angel watching over you and your little one.”
My breath comes out in a shaky exhale, a flood of relief washing over me. I press a hand to my stomach, a small comfort to the life growing there.
Dr. Victor steps back, giving me space. “I’d like to keep you overnight for observation, more for the bump on your head than anything else. You definitely have a mild concussion, and paired with your pregnancy it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice breaking slightly. “Did anyone bring in my bag and phone, doctor?”
He smiles in response. “I’ll check with the nurse, and have her bring it in, if they have it.” He pats my shoulder gently before stepping out, leaving me alone.
After a while—I’m unsure how long as I dozed off a nurse returns with my bag, and I quickly dig through looking for my phone.
I dial the home number, and the second they answer, I let out a shaky laugh, tears slipping down my cheeks.
“Hey, it’s me,” I say softly, wiping my face.
“Suzie.” Monty’s voice is warm and steady, laced with a mix of relief and concern. “Baby, we were so worried! Are you okay? The clinic called us?—”
“I’m fine,” I interrupt, my throat tightening. “They’re keeping me overnight to keep an eye on me… and the baby.” The words are soft, almost a whisper, but I know they both heard me.
“Did you say baby?” Lo asks first, his tone controlled and even.
There’s a brief silence before I finally respond. “Yeah.”
Monty clears his throat and I can hear Lo whispering something in the background but the words are indistinct. Finally, they put me out of my misery.
“We got some things to talk about, Suzie.” Lo sounds almost like he’s reprimanding me. “But for now, I’m just glad you’re okay. We were worried.”
I take the out he’s giving me. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”
“It’s okay,” Lo says. “But it means we’re moving our visit up. We need to see you.”
I sniffle, smiling through my tears. “You don’t have to do that.”
“We want to,” Monty insists. “You should have your family with you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, my chest aching. “I love you both. And give Annie my love.”
As the call ends, the door creaks open, and my breath catches when Pete and Dexter walk back in. This time their faces show emotion—worry etched into every line.
Pete steps forward first. “Is the baby okay?”
I nod, keeping my eyes trained on the blanket. “The baby is fine.”
Dexter shifts awkwardly, and the silence feels heavy. Pete sits at the edge of my bed, his voice low. “Were you planning on telling us, Suzie?”
I never thought I could miss Pete’s nickname for me so much as I do right then. I’d give anything to be his babygirl right now.
“Yes,” I respond, my voice barely above a whisper. “I was going to tell you both when I was ready.”
Pete exhales slowly, his posture softening. Dexter excuses himself quietly, leaving us alone. His absence causing the fractures in my heart to splinter deeper.
“I expect nothing from you,” I murmur, my words spilling out before I can stop them. “I just… I want you to know that you’re both welcome in the baby’s life if you want to be. But you don’t have to feel obligated?—”
“Obligated?” Pete’s voice cuts through mine, sharp and incredulous. “Suzie, this isn’t about obligations. This is?—”
Before he can finish, the door opens, and Dexter strides back in, his arms full. A massive bouquet of balloons floats above him, tied to a stuffed bear almost as big as I am. In his other hand is a vase of vibrant flowers.
“For the baby,” Dexter says, holding up the bear. “And for you.” He shows me the flowers, before carefully setting everything down.
I stare at the gifts, a lump forming in my throat. I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t. Instead, I mumble a quiet, “Thank you,” and let my hands fall into my lap.
“Suzie, we need to talk,” Pete says, and he has that no-nonsense voice on.
But I don’t have it in me to do ‘the talk’ now. The one where they tell me that they will help me, look after me and the baby, but they’re not interested in me anymore. Or even worse, that they’re not interested in being fathers. “Can we not? I’m tired and in pain.”
He nods in response, but from the set of his mouth, I know I’ve only bought myself a little time.
I let the two of them fuss over me for a few minutes, and even though I know it should feel nice, it doesn’t.
Glancing at the clock, I make my decision, knowing I need some space. A lot has happened in a short time, and I’m feeling overwhelmed and overemotional. The pregnancy hormones are not helping. “The doctor says I’m staying overnight for observations. You two should get back to your hotel.”
Pete frowns. “We’re not leaving?—”
The nurse chooses that moment to step into the room, smiling apologetically at us. “Visiting hours are over now. I’ll have to ask you both to head out, please.”
They hesitate, but eventually, Pete nods, standing from his chair. Dexter follows suit, casting one last glance at the balloons and bear before they both turn to leave.
“Get some rest. Then we can talk tomorrow,” Pete says softly.
The door closes behind them, and the quiet of the room settles over me like a heavy blanket. I lie back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling as tears slide silently down my cheeks.
I’ve cried more these past few weeks than I have in my entire life.
And from the feel of my broken heart in my chest, I doubt I’ll be done anytime soon.