Winter Baby Bump & Grind (Seasons in Montana: Winter)

8. Ryan

eight

Ryan

A nger and fear twine together in my head, muddling all my thoughts as I try desperately to focus on getting to the hospital safely.

Quickly.

The clock on my dash changes. Another minute gone.

Save the baby. Save the baby. Lost one. Can’t lose another.

I blink, cursing under my breath as I pull into a parking space and usher her through the doors of Wintervale's hospital, heading straight for Urgent Care. My sense of time warps once we check in and wait for a nurse to usher us into obstetrics.

Why couldn’t she tell me what she’d been going through?

Conversations play out in front of me even as I slip a hand in Mel’s, hating how sallow her complexion has become as she tightens her fingers around mine. I can’t even give her words of comfort because all I hear is her words replaying in my mind.

I can’t do this again, Ry. I can’t lose this baby, too.

Her eyes went round, and her pupils expanded as her breath grew shaky. Her nails dug into my skin, biting painfully as she whispered that she’d been through this before.

Alone.

My girl had been pregnant with my baby and suffered through losing it, alone.

Fuck .

A medical team pelts her with questions, and I watch as she hugs herself and rocks back and forth on the examination table, struggling to respond. Her brow furrows, and her big, beautiful brown eyes take on a sunken look. My beautiful little bunny has never looked like this—terrified and trembling.

I can’t fucking stand it. Surging to my feet, I wrap a reassuring arm around her shoulders and turn to the medical staff.

“Are you the father?” The nurse turns to me, her expression carefully calm.

“Yes.”

“Okay, we’ll run some tests and see what’s going on. Some spotting can be normal,” she says, directing her words to Mel. “Please try not to worry. We’ll prep the ultrasound room now, but while you wait, we’ll need to take some samples.”

“What if…” I clear my throat, hating that I need to say it aloud. “What if she’s miscarrying?”

The nurse’s lips flatten into a thin line. “She said she’s about eight weeks along? If that’s what’s happening, there isn’t much we can do. We’re all powerless at this early stage, I’m afraid. But you’ve done the right thing by coming here as soon as you could. I know it’s hard, but try not to worry about it until we know what’s happening.”

I nod as she flits around the room, taking Mel’s vitals and drawing blood into tiny little vials. Just the sight of that life-giving red liquid filling the tube has me feeling queasy enough to drop into a waiting chair with my eyes shut. I’ve never done well with the sight of blood, so I bend over in my seat, fighting to control my breathing as my brain brings back the times I’ve seen it streaming from broken noses, cut knuckles, and split lips.

Powerless.

The feeling is so familiar, so paralyzing that I have to focus on dragging air into my lungs and expelling it in a rush. I’m not a boy anymore. I’m a man. I don’t need to cower in a corner. I don’t need to be afraid. I’m not in danger, but my child is.

And I can’t do a fucking thing about it.

Shit, is this what she had to do alone? How could she stand it?

I suck in air, deep and slow, and try to settle the tremble in my fingers. If Mel can scrape together the courage to face this, so I can I.

“You can… You can stay outside, if you need to,” Mel says quietly. “I’m a big girl. I can do this.”

My head jerks up, and I grit my teeth.

“I’m not fucking leaving you,” I growl. “I wasn’t by your side the first time around. Whatever happens this time, Mel, I’m going to be by your side for all of it. You hear me?”

She nods, licking her lips and repeatedly clasping her hands together in an anxious motion. The nurse presses a cup of water in Mel’s hand, explaining that she needs a full bladder for the ultrasound before excusing herself. I keep my gaze steady on Mel as she sips.

Fragile and strong. Beautiful and terrified. My safe place and confidant.

My fucking everything.

“I guess you hate me now, huh?” she winces. “For not telling you about before. For being so stupid and wearing shoes with no grip. For being careless enough to trip over my own two feet. So typical, huh? Irresponsible, silly Melissa.”

My jaw clenches, hating how she sometimes falls back into parroting all the bullshit her family fed her. I shake my head and take her chin between my fingertips.

“Stop it. I don’t hate you, and none of this is your fault.” I cup her face and kiss each of her wet cheeks. “While I wish you would’ve trusted me enough to tell me at the time, I’m sure it was confusing and terrifying to go through on your own. We were both so young, and maybe we were both a little stupid, but I don’t blame you for not telling me. Plus, you were trying to look out for me. You didn’t want to cause me pain.”

“I’m so scared, Ryan.” She stares at her belly, one hand wrapped protectively around her middle. “I know we haven’t really discussed it, but I know I want this child. Our child.”

I swallow hard around the lump forming in my throat.

“Until now,” I say, my voice going gruff with emotion. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted any kids. But it turns out I want what you want, Bunny. I want this baby. With you.”

Then her face crumples and a sob escapes her, so I hold her in my arms for a while as the terror threatens to engulf us both.

It’s not long until we’re sat in the ultrasound room, and the technician squirts gel on Mel’s stomach.

She jumps a little, yelping, “Oh, it’s cold.”

The technician gives her a small, placating smile. “Sorry, I should’ve said. Let’s have a look and see what’s going on, shall we?”

Mel grips my hand tightly, and I run my fingers over her knuckles while I try to make sense of the ocean of gray blobs on the screen. Swiping from one side to the other, the technician seems to go on hunt looking for… Well, I don’t know.

A baby, I guess.

When she finally stops, I tilt my head and squint hard to try to make sense of what I’m seeing on the screen.

“Here’s the gestational sac,” the technician explains, pointing it out on the screen.

“It looks like a superhero mask,” I say.

“That’s because there are two.”

“Two sacs?” Mel asks, brows snapping together in confusion.

“Yes, and two babies . You’re having twins,” she says, wiggling the device and snapping screenshots. “Here’s baby A, and here’s baby B.”

My mouth drops open. “D-did you say twins ?”

I stare in shock at the two little blobs that will become our children.

Plural.

Children .

And just like that, I can see it. Mel as a mama, smiling indulgently as I reach out to her to cradle that tiny little, round-faced human in my arms. Me as a father, fitting a toddler with their first pair of skates and gripping their fingers as I take them onto the ice for their first skating lesson. Us, together, hand in hand as we hike through the trails winding around the mountain or splash with the kids in the lake during Wintervale’s spring.

We’d be a family that showers our children with praise and kindness, not with fear and fists.

A family known for their laughter and cuddles, not for endless criticisms and harsh words.

A family that allows for mistakes and growth, granting grace and… love . Unconditional, undying love.

We’d be the family we always wanted—the one we deserved—but didn’t get. We can create it now.

Together.

“Yes, twins. And, good news, there’s a strong, healthy heartbeat present for both.” She circles it on the screen. “See that fluttering, pulsating movement? That’s the heartbeat. Strong. Exactly as you’d expect for this gestational age.”

Wonder fills me as I stare at the image of those two tiny hearts flickering inside of Melissa. Pressing my fingers to my mouth, I’m overwhelmed with an immense sense of gratitude and relief that they’re okay. They’re thriving. They’re perfect.

Just like their mama.

“So… the bleeding and the cramping aren’t a miscarriage?” Mel asks, incredulous.

“While those symptoms may indicate miscarriage, I’m pleased to say that’s not what’s happening here. Some women experience light spotting and mild cramping like you have, so it can be normal. But the nurses will advise you of what happens next.”

The technician prints out the still image of both babies and hands them to us with her congratulations before she steps out of the room.

Holding that thin photo paper in my fingers while Mel swipes the goop off her stomach, I can’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness rise up in me as I stare at the two little bean-looking beings.

My vision blurs as I lift my gaze from the twins to their gorgeous mama, and a single, swift strike of clarity hits me square in the chest.

There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for these babies. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Mel. But I know, without a shadow of a doubt, I wouldn’t do what was done to me and I would do anything in my power to protect them, to make them happy.

Isn’t that what true, pure love is? Caring about someone more than you care for yourself?

With my heart thundering inside me, I go to her, step between her knees and wrap my arms around her. She tilts her head back to look at my face while I push her dark locks away from her face and tuck it behind her ear.

“I just realized something.”

“That we’re about to be in over our heads?” Mel laughs, eyes bright with wonder and emotion. “Twins! I can’t believe it, but I’m so relieved they’re okay.”

“Me too.” I smile and slip my hands into the hair at the nape of her neck, fisting it lightly so she can’t look away from me. One of her dark brows arches in silent question. “But my thought was more of an epiphany.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I realize I can’t live without you.”

Her breath catches. “Oh?”

“You complete me, stabilize me, make me feel like I can face anything. Even the white-knuckled terror of the unknown and the ugliness of my past.” Tracing the curve of her full bottom lip, I press down lightly so I feel the breath she sucks in between her teeth. “I waited for you for six years, too afraid to ask you for another chance because I convinced myself that I was giving you what you wanted.”

“All I wanted was you.”

“You’ve always had me, Bunny. I’ve always been yours.”

She searches my gaze and cups my wrist with her hands while I search for the right words, the ones that will convey everything I feel for her, but there is only one way to tell her succinctly.

“I love you, Mel. I think I always have.” I brush my knuckles against her rosy cheek. “And I’m looking forward to creating a family with you.”

Her mouth parts on a soft curse, and her shoulders relax. “Wow. I wasn’t sure I’d ever hear you say it, Ry. I love you, too.”

Hearing her say the words doesn’t immediately cause me to shut down, or flinch, or question her motives. Instead, I’m filled with warmth and a sense of safety, and I see it for the gift it is. One I can give her back. One I can give to our children.

“Say it again, just so I’m sure I heard you right the first time.”

I smile and nuzzle the curve of her neck. “I love you, Melissa Santos.”

“I’m think I’m going to need you to say it every day for the rest of my life,” she murmurs.

“You got it, Bunny.” Chuckling, I dip my head to kiss her. And when she kisses me back, I feel her love wrap around me as surely and as snugly as her embrace.

And damn, does it feel fucking perfect.