Chapter 45
Ashlyn
“Is this what it’s going to be like forever?” Zane asks as we sit down at our reserved table at Blue Fin Sushi and Steakhouse.
“What? You and me going to fancy restaurants on date night while my ex-husband’s soon to be ex-wife watches our son because, strangely enough, she and I have enough in common to be friends and I trust her deeply with Bentley?
” I ask. Whoa. That was a mouthful. I hope he got it all.
I unfold my napkin and drape it over my bare legs.
I am wearing a dress tonight. I never wear dresses anymore.
Between working at the daycare and taking care of Bentley, I am pretty much doomed to be a leggings girl for life. But I love it.
“No. You and me running into a restaurant to make sure we don’t miss our reservation because you take thirty minutes to shower, another hour to do your hair and figure out what you want to wear and another twenty minutes to say goodbye to Bentley even though you’re going to see him again in less than three hours after our calm and relaxing date,” he says and I roll my eyes.
“Your tits look great, by the way. Are you wearing a push-up bra?”
I look down at myself. “What? No. And listen…it’s a process,” I tell him.
“A long one,” he laughs. I shoot him a dirty look and he winks.
But despite the saltiness between us, we are good.
So good. We have fallen back into our routine of taking care of Bentley, who is finally sleeping through the night.
He’s been loving daycare, which is such a blessing because it means I get to be around him at work too.
“You do know that you don’t have to work at the daycare, right?” Zane asks.
“What do you mean?” I ask, sipping on miso soup. I love sushi. I love seafood. But I’m still feeling a bit off even though when Zane told me he’d made a reservation here, I was ecstatic.
“I’m not sure if you’re aware,” he whispers as he leans in across the table. “But I’m kind of rich,”
“Only kind of?” I whisper back. “And here I thought you were super rich. I might have to rethink things.”
Zane gives me a look and shakes his head, but I just laugh.
I love that we are back to our normal banter.
“I love working at the daycare,” I say.
“I know. But all I’m saying is if you wanted to stay home and just take care of our son and not a room of crazy, screaming children who think I’m a bad man who drives a fast car, it would be fine and no one would judge you,” he says as the waiter sets a boat of sushi down in front of us.
“Like I said. I love…my…job…” I trail off at the end as I look down at the sushi.
Suddenly, the sight of raw meat has me turning green.
The smell is even worse. “I’ll be right back,” I say, b-lining for the bathroom.
I get there just in time to get sick and find myself puking until there is nothing left in me.
After a long moment and three flushes, I wipe my mouth and wobble out to the sink to fix my hair and dress. A woman comes up next to me, and I grimace.
“Sorry. Food poisoning or something,” I tell her as I wash my hands.
“Mints help,” the woman smiles.
“I’m sorry?” I ask, and she reaches in her purse, pulling out a box of Tic Tacs. “The smaller the better. I never go anywhere without them,” she says, popping the top and holding it out to me. I open my hand, and she dispenses three mints.
“Thanks,” I say.
“No problem. First time?” she asks, and I am lost. It isn’t until I really look at her and notice her very pregnant belly that I realize she isn’t just giving me mints for my bad breath. And she also doesn’t think I have food poisoning.
“Oh. Oh, I’m not…” I shake my head.
“You sure?” she asks. When I don’t respond, she just smiles again. “If I’m right…congratulations. And stock up on mints. Morning sickness is a beast.”
With that she walks out, and I am left gaping in the mirror, unsure what to say or think.
* * *
“You’re very quiet. Are you sure you’re okay?” Zane asks as we make our way into the bedroom. I was able to sit through dinner, though I didn’t eat much. Mostly soup and some dumplings. Needless to say, we brought home enough sushi to feed an army.
“Yeah. I’m not sure what came over me,” I say.
“Well, either way, it was nice to come home to Bentley already being in bed. Becca is going to make a good mom someday,” he says with a smile. Then it’s replaced by a look of remorse. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, you’re right,” I smile back. “She will make a great mom. But first she’s going to have to find a great man.”
“Too bad we are so rare,” he says, pulling me closer to him.
“Yeah. I’ve been looking for one for ages and still haven’t had any luck,” I joke before giggling. Zane tightens his grip around me and kisses me.
“Maybe I need to show you just how good I am…and how bad…” he says, edging me towards the bed.
But I pull back. “Why don’t you grab a bottle of wine and turn on some music while I freshen up. And then you can show me every side of you…”
“You don’t need to freshen up,” he says, kissing me again. “I like you just like this…”
“I beg to differ,” I say, pulling back again. “Besides. I ruined the romance at the restaurant. I’d like to make up for it now.”
“Right. Wine and music. Got it. But don’t keep me waiting too long,” he says.
“I would never,” I smile before going into the bathroom.
Once I close and lock the door behind me, I let out a breath. My heart is racing.
It’s been a while since I’ve done this. A long while. Honestly, I haven’t had the need. I assumed I wouldn’t. But under the sink, in my hygiene bag with tampons and condoms, are two white sticks.
I pull one out and stare at it. Literally just holding it in my hand brings back a flood of emotions.
Hope. Anxiety. Let down. Month after month after month.
But unlike those times, when I was riding on hope and nothing else, there have been signs.
Signs I didn’t even see because I stopped looking a long time ago.
But now, as I go through the motions, I pass the time by thinking about all those signs and how this time they’re there. The cravings, the aversion to foods. My apparently voluptuous breasts.
Are you wearing a push-up bra?
I’ve also been exhausted. And irritable. But given the fact that there is a baby in the house, that all makes sense.
But so do other things.
“Don’t get your hopes up, Ashlyn,” I whisper to myself. “You know what it feels like when you get your hopes up.”
My phone dings, alarming me that the five minutes is up.
Give it another minute, just for good measure.
“I’m not baking a loaf of bread; it’s either negative or positive.”
Negative.
Negative.
Negative.
The word plays over and over in my head until I finally stand up and grab the stick.
I stare at it, blinking multiple times.
A knock comes to the door, but it sounds muffled. The racing of my own heart is the only thing I can hear.
“Ashlyn? Are you okay?” Zane calls before knocking again, harder this time. “Ashlyn–”
I open the door just before he knocks for the third time. His expression is a mix of surprise and confusion.
“Hey,” he says. “Are you alright? You weren’t answering and–”
“I’m pregnant,” I tell him, and he stops.
“You’re–”
“I’m pregnant,” I say again, louder this time. It’s almost like I just need to say it for it to be real. For me to believe it. Even though those two pink lines are so unmistakably bold, they look like they were written in Sharpie.
“You’re pregnant?” he asks softly, and I nod, handing him the stick. I watch as his eyes widen and his expression shifts. When he smiles, I cover my mouth with my hand, a half sob, half laugh escaping my throat.
“You’re pregnant,” he says.
“I’m pregnant,” I cry.
“But I thought–”
“He lied,” I tell him. “My ex had a vasectomy years ago.”
“How do you know?” he asks.
“Becca told me. I know it’s weird and all of it sounds nuts, but–”
“You’re pregnant,” he laughs, staring at the stick again. Then he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into him.
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper before crying again.
Zane holds me, and we hug, laughing and crying together for a moment.
“I’m going to be a mom,” I whisper. “And you’re going to be a dad. Again.”
“I am,” he nods. Then his shoulders droop. “Good God, how old will Bentley be when–”
“Thirteen months,” I answer.
“Jesus,” he lets out, and I laugh.
“It could be worse. We could be having twins,” I say.
“With our luck, that’s exactly what’s going to happen,” he mumbles.
But I can’t stop smiling. “Are you upset?” I ask, lacing my hands around the back of his neck.
“God, no,” he says. “I’m excited.”
“Me too,” I say. “And happy. I’m so happy…”
“Good,” Zane says, “I love our crazy life. And I love you.”
“I love you too,” I tell him before we kiss again. And again. And again.