CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Luke
I ’m fifteen minutes early for Amelia’s ultrasound appointment, and as I stand in front of the old, run-down clinic, I realize arriving early was a bad idea.
It gives me too much time to think. To panic. I should have taken my time this morning, had a long shower, and cooked myself a decent breakfast. But the second I finished my workout, I was antsy. Rushing for no reason.
While I’ve never been to a pregnancy ultrasound before, I’ve seen enough TV shows and movies to know they’re a big deal. And the idea of that scares the hell out of me.
This situation is strange enough without adding a shared, intimate moment. But I can’t not be there. It wouldn’t feel right.
At nine fourteen, Amelia still hasn’t arrived, and my panic grows.
Am I at the right place? I wouldn’t be upset if I wasn’t because this place has definitely seen better days, but I said I’d show up, and that’s already a touchy subject for her. I don’t want to fuck it up first go, because let’s face it, I’m going to mess up at some point and I’d prefer it was further down the track, when I’ve already proven myself a little.
God, who the hell am I?
This kid already owns me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I halt my pacing. When did I start pacing? Shaking off my thoughts, I rush to check it and find a message from Amelia.
Amelia: I’m up next. I guess I’ll see you later today
What the hell? Did she give me the wrong address?
I hit call on her name and take a deep breath so I don’t snap at her when she answers. She’s a pain in my ass but she’s also carrying my child, so I guess I should be nice to her. Within reason.
Amelia answers with a gruff hello, almost forcing the words to fly out of my mouth, but I remain calm. “I’m out in front of the address you gave me. And I’ve been here for fifteen minutes. Where are you ?”
“I’ve been inside for twenty.”
“What? Where’s your car?” I turn around to search the parking lot again, but it’s definitely not here.
“Um, it doesn’t matter. Can you come in? We’re up next.” Before I can answer, she rushes out a “please” and a little tension leaves my body.
“Yep, I’m on my way.” I hang up and open the door just as a heavily pregnant woman steps out.
“Oh, thank you,” she says with a smile. “Good timing.”
A young girl follows behind her, gripping the back of her dress as she dances along, and when they step out into the sunshine, she jumps excitedly. “Can we call Dad? He said to call as soon as we were done.”
The woman’s smile widens, projecting so much warmth my chest tightens. That’s not in the cards for us. Instead, we’re welcoming our child into an already broken home. And I know with absolute certainty that Amelia would never have wanted that. This must be killing her.
I continue to stare after them as they walk hand in hand, until Amelia whisper-yells behind me.
“Luke. We have to go in.”
“ Coming ,” I sing as I jog to catch up with her, only slowing when I fall into line, taking her in. Today she’s in black yoga pants and a loose-fitting tee. Her wild hair is braided loosely down her back, with random strands poking out at all angles. I find myself staring until she starts clenching and unclenching her hands nervously.
“It’s going to be fine,” I whisper as I step closer. I have no idea if that’s true, but I have an urge to put her mind at ease. Like I’m reverting back to the kid that used to do anything he could to protect her, and forgetting all the shit that’s happened over the years.
“What?” Amelia asks as she jumps, obviously not hearing me approach.
“I said it’s going to be okay. Great even.”
She puts on a smile, but while it’s clearly forced, she shakes out her hands before folding them over her chest and nodding, a little tension of her own dissipating as we walk to the exam room.
And I take it as a win.
After a quick introduction, Amelia’s directed to the bed, while I hover awkwardly by the door, unsure of my place.
“You don’t have to stand over there, Dad. Come on in. I’ll grab you a seat.”
Dad. Dad ? Jesus. Saying it myself is one thing, but hearing it out of a stranger's mouth is an entirely different ballgame…and I prefer football.
The woman, who I think is named Jill—I can’t remember because I was too busy assessing the equipment—moves a seat next to Amelia’s head and gestures for me to sit.
I rush out a thanks as I do as I’m asked, then meet Amelia’s gaze, her wide eyes doing nothing to hide her feelings. This is weird. We both know it. There’s no other way to put it. I’m in a clinic, with Amelia, waiting to see our baby.
What the hell is this life?
“Okay, shall we begin?”
Amelia and Jill chat about timing and how she’s feeling while I smile and nod. I’m certain I’m paying attention but the next thing I know, Amelia’s tee is tucked under her bra and the waistband of her pants is being rolled down. I avert my gaze, because this part is personal, but when Jill laughs, I find myself glancing back to see why.
“You’re going to want to focus this way,” she says with a mocking tone, like she’s speaking to a child. “I promise it’s not scary. Just watch the screen if the rest of it concerns you.”
“Concerns me?” The way she says “concerns” makes it sound like the sight of Amelia’s stomach disgusts me. And that’s not it. At all. I’m respecting her goddamn privacy. “I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”
She smiles before squirting thick jelly-like stuff onto Amelia’s still-flat stomach, making her hiss. “Sorry, it’s a little cold. I promise you’ll forget all about that in a second.”
“It’s fine. I just didn’t know what to expect.”
“Are you ready?”
Amelia rushes out a yes, while my head screams no . This is something I never thought I’d be ready for. But I can’t exactly say that out loud.
I’m still as she lowers the rod excruciatingly slowly toward the gel, my heart pounding so hard I’m surprised no one can hear it. I feel everything in those seconds—not just my rapid heart but also the blood pulsing through my veins, the buzz of the lights ringing in my ears, the energy surrounding me—yet my eyes don’t move from Amelia’s stomach, watching as Jill swirls the rod around, spreading the gel where she needs it.
I’m completely mesmerized until a new sound permeates the air, and my eyes flash to the screen. “What’s that? Is that bad?” I ask, my chest so tight, I’m terrified of having a heart attack.
Jill laughs, but Amelia appears just as shell-shocked as I am. “That’s the heartbeat,” Jill says casually. “I thought I’d start with that since you’re both new to this.”
“The heartbeat?” I turn to Amelia at the same time she gapes my way, a sheen of water coating her eyes as mine tingle. “That’s—”
“Our baby,” she finishes for me, her voice so choked with emotion it cracks.
“I love this part of my job,” Jill interrupts. “Ready for more?”
All eyes move back to the screen as Jill talks us through what we’re seeing, and I stare in awe, my voice trapped in my throat.
Amelia and Jill continue to chat throughout the appointment, but I don’t say a word because nothing feels right. There’s nothing in my head big enough for this moment.
When she’s done, Jill wipes Amelia’s stomach and smiles. “Congratulations, Mom and Dad, you have a healthy—and I’m going to say happy—baby. Would you like a photo?”
“Yes, thank you,” Amelia says, while I remain silent.
Then as Amelia gets up and straightens out her clothes, she says thank you and goodbye, on behalf of both of us, and I still can’t speak.
A million thoughts rush through my mind as we walk toward the reception desk, and when Amelia hands over her credit card, a pit forms in my stomach. Doesn’t her insurance cover this? Why is she paying if it doesn’t? Shouldn’t that be me? I need to talk to her about how this is all going to work and how we’re going to split the costs. Jesus . The costs are the least of our worries. We have to share custody. We’re going to need two of everything the same so he or she doesn’t notice we’re constantly shipping them off from one place to another.
This is so much more complicated than I imagined.
Amelia hurries outside ahead of me, letting the door shut instead of holding it open, and it narrowly misses smacking me in the face. I’d call her out if she wasn’t marching away from me, seemingly annoyed until she spins on a dime to face me, her expression matching my awe. “Did that really just happen?”
I have no idea what just happened, but it was magic and I—
Her face drops and she shakes her head. “Are you going to say anything ?”
I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out because I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to say. Amelia stares at me for the longest beat before rolling her eyes and scoffing. “Okay, then. I’ll see you at work.”
I stay in my messed-up stupor as she storms off in the opposite direction, and it’s then I remember she doesn’t have her car, and I snap myself out of my daze. “Wait!” I call out.
She stops instantly, waving her hands around as she turns. “So you’re finally going to speak?”
“Just get in my truck.” I wave a hand toward my Chevy and wait for her scowl. But instead, her eyes widen.
“ What ?”
“I’m not letting you take a bus, Joy . Come on, I’ll take you home.” Did she honestly expect me to watch her go ?
“How do you know I’m taking the bus?” she sasses. “Maybe I’m going to meet a friend.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Then get in my truck.”
Amelia folds her arms across her chest and taps her foot, unimpressed, until I add “please” and put on my cheesiest smile, once again gesturing toward my beast parked on the other side of the lot.
We stare at each other, locked in some kind of standoff until finally, “Okay. Fine,” she says as she gives in. “Because it’ll be faster. Can you drop me at the stadium? My car’s there.”
“Yep, that’s where I’m headed.” I smile, but God, is it going to be this hard every time I try to do the right thing? I get that she’s perfectly capable of doing this on her own, but why make it harder than it has to be?
Holy shit. When did I become the rational one of the two of us?
I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt today because we just went through something life-changing, but it’s going to suck if she keeps arguing every time I try to help.
Unless…
An idea I’d refused to acknowledge pops back into my mind, and I can’t deny that it’s kind of perfect, no matter how crazy it is.
I let the idea play out as we walk in silence until I’m certain it’s the right choice.
It has to be. It solves all our problems. Thank you, Reed.
Keeping my mouth shut, I wait until Amelia’s settled in the passenger seat—so she can’t run away—then before starting the ignition, I hit her with my thoughts. “I’ve decided we should get married.”