31. Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Three weeks later
T he air inside the clinic was too cold, the kind of sterile chill that seeped into her skin and made her wish she’d brought a sweater. But she hadn’t. She hadn’t brought anything or anyone.
Natalie had offered. Insisted.
Hell, Natalie had practically demanded she come, standing in Jesse’s kitchen that morning, arms crossed, ready to fight her on it.
“You shouldn’t be doing this alone.”
But Hayley had shaken her head, pressing a palm over the curve of her stomach, still barely noticeable beneath her oversized hoodie.
“If Jesse can’t be here, I don’t want anyone else to be.”
So here she was.
Twelve weeks pregnant.
Striding into a medical clinic, alone.
A couple months ago, she had been in Australia playing the biggest festival of her career. The industry had been at her feet, the label mapping out an international tour, Caiden standing at her side as her musical other half. Now, she was here. Walking into a fluorescent-lit waiting room where no one knew her name, no one cared about charting singles or magazine covers.
Just another pregnant woman.
Just another appointment.
She signed in at the front desk, her name barely legible on the clipboard because her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
She had spent the last three weeks fending off threats from the label, warning her to fix things with Caiden, to get the band back on track, to be the rockstar they had invested in. And for three weeks, she had thought maybe—maybe—she could still do it. Still be the woman she had worked so hard to become while figuring out how to be a mother.
But none of them gave a shit about the fact that she was pregnant. No one wanted to hear about doctor’s appointments or nausea or exhaustion. No one was asking if she was okay.
They just wanted her to keep producing. Keep singing, keep touring, keep playing the part.
And something inside her had snapped.
So she told them all to go to hell.
Now, here she was.
Her fingers curled around the edge of the plastic chair as she sat in the waiting room, breathing through the tightness in her chest. Somewhere, halfway across the world, Jesse was in another time zone, gearing up for another mission. The last time she’d heard his voice was in the middle of the night, raw and desperate, telling her to wait for him.
“When I come home, I’m coming home for good.”
She had played those words over and over in her head until they were worn and threadbare.
But waiting was hard.
Waiting was lonely.
The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, the scent of antiseptic thick in the air. Her heart was racing for reasons she couldn’t name—nerves, maybe. Or the fact that this was it. This was the moment she would see the baby for the first time.
Alone.
And now, as the receptionist called her name, her stomach twisted.
She stood, pressing a hand over the barely-there swell beneath her hoodie, and started following the nurse toward the back, her pulse pounding in her ears.
Then—
“Wait.”
The word cut through the quiet waiting room, sharp, breathless.
Hayley froze.
Turned.
And there, standing in the hallway near the entrance, chest rising and falling like he’d just sprinted off a plane—
Jesse.
Still in uniform. Boots scuffed, desert camo still clinging to his body, a bag slung over his shoulder like he hadn’t even stopped before driving here.
Like he had landed and come straight to her.
Her breath caught.
He was here.
* * * * *
Jesse barely registered the weight of his bag slipping from his shoulder, hitting the waiting room floor with a dull thud.
Because Hayley was already moving—running toward him, her auburn waves flying behind her, her eyes wide, shining, disbelieving—and then she was in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist, her hands fisting into his uniform, kissing him like she didn’t give a single fuck that they were standing in the middle of a medical clinic.
He caught her effortlessly, like she belonged there, his hands gripping her thighs, holding her against him as her mouth crashed into his.
Desperation. Relief. Weeks of missing her. Wanting her.
She tasted like something he had been starving for.
Jesse kissed her like he was trying to breathe her in, his heart hammering against his ribs, his fingers digging into the soft curve of her waist.
She pulled back, just enough to press her forehead against his, her breath coming fast, her lips swollen from his. “You’re here.”
His throat felt tight. “I fucking told you I would be.”
Before she could respond, a voice—flat, unimpressed—cut through their moment.
“Sooo… still gonna follow me?”
Jesse turned his head, blinking at the nurse standing a few feet away, clipboard in hand, eyebrows arched like she had seen this shit before.
Hayley let out a breathless, embarrassed laugh, still clinging to him.
Jesse smirked, keeping his hands right where they were on her ass. “Yeah, give us a second.”
The nurse sighed, flipping a page on her clipboard. “We don’t really do foreplay in the waiting room.”
Jesse chuckled, setting Hayley down reluctantly, his hands lingering on her hips as she swayed slightly, like she was still trying to process that he was actually here.
She reached up, her fingers brushing over his jaw, like she didn’t quite believe it. Like she was checking to make sure he was real.
Jesse caught her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Come on, baby. Let’s go meet our kid.”
And just like that, they followed the nurse, Jesse’s grip firm and unshakable, walking into the future together.
* * * * *
The room was small, dimly lit, the monitor flickering to life beside the exam table. Hayley lay back, rolling her tank up just enough for the ultrasound gel.
The sonographer adjusted the probe, moving it slowly across Hayley’s stomach, the cool gel smoothing under gentle pressure. The machine hummed, and the black-and-white image flickered across the screen—a grainy but unmistakable outline of their baby.
“Everything looks good,” the sonographer said, voice warm, professional. “Strong heartbeat. Baby’s measuring right on track.”
Jesse was locked in place, his eyes fixed on the screen, his grip on Hayley’s hand still ironclad. He was barely blinking, his jaw tight, like he was afraid to breathe too hard and miss something.
“Do you want to know the sex?” the sonographer asked, glancing between them.
Hayley nodded, heart pounding. “Yes.”
Jesse let out a rough exhale. “Hell yes.”
The sonographer chuckled, shifting the probe, moving lower. “Okay, let’s see if baby’s cooperating.”
A moment passed.
Another.
Then—nothing.
The baby had shifted, turning slightly, but not enough.
The sonographer sighed good-naturedly. “Your little one is feeling shy today.”
Jesse scoffed, leaning in closer, as if sheer willpower alone could get his kid to move.
“Come on, little bug,” he muttered. “Help us out here.”
The sonographer grinned. “You’d be surprised how often dads try to reason with their unborn children.”
Jesse gave her a look. “And does it work?”
She laughed. “Not once.”
Hayley smirked, rubbing a hand over her stomach. “You hear that, baby? You’re already giving your dad a hard time.”
Jesse groaned, shaking his head. “Kid, don’t start with me.”
The sonographer pressed a few more buttons, adjusting the angle, patience in every movement. “Let’s try this again.”
A few more seconds passed, then—finally—the image on the screen shifted.
Jesse leaned in, hard, eyes narrowing as he tried to decode the black-and-white mystery in front of him.
The sonographer pointed. “Okay, right there—see that?”
Jesse frowned. “See what?”
Hayley squinted. “I don’t—”
The sonographer grinned. “That, right there? That’s a boy.”
Jesse stopped breathing.
The words landed, heavy and undeniable.
A son.
Jesse let out a rough breath, his grip tightening on Hayley’s hand. A boy. His boy.
Hayley turned her head to look at him, and his face was wrecked.
Eyes locked on the screen. Completely, utterly wrecked.
The sonographer smiled knowingly. “This is where most first-time dads get real quiet or real emotional. You’re leaning toward emotional.”
Jesse let out a sharp, shaky laugh, rubbing a hand down his face.
Hayley squeezed his fingers, her own throat tightening. “Jesse…”
His eyes snapped to hers, shining, glassy, overwhelmed.
“A boy,” he said.
Hayley nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks. “A boy.”
Jesse exhaled sharply, pressing his forehead to hers, his hand slipping from hers to cover her belly, thumb tracing the curve like he was already memorizing the shape of their son.
The sonographer gave them a moment, smiling softly before continuing. “Everything looks great. Strong heart, developing perfectly. Beautiful baby boy.”
Jesse didn’t move for a long time.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t breathe.
Just stayed there, forehead against Hayley’s, hand on her belly, feeling their son for the first time.
His son.
The sonographer stood up with a warm smile. “I’ll print the pictures and be back in a moment. You can clean up the gel now.” She handed Hayley a soft blanket before stepping out of the room.
Jesse barely registered it.
His chest felt too tight, his head too light. The world had stopped—like his entire existence had just collapsed into this one moment.
A son.
His son.
Hayley turned her head, watching him, her green eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Jesse.”
He was gripping her hand way too tight, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should probably loosen his hold, but he couldn’t.
Not when he felt like he might float off the goddamn earth.
“Holy shit,” he whispered.
Hayley let out a watery laugh, dabbing at the gel on her belly. “Yeah.”
Jesse exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face, shaking his head. His heart was hammering so hard it felt like he was still on a mission, adrenaline flooding his system.
But this? This was bigger than any mission. Bigger than anything.
“There’s nothing more important than this,” he said, voice rough, raw. “Nothing.”
Hayley stilled, fingers tightening in his. Her lips parted, like she knew. Like she could see it happening in real time—something inside him shifting, cementing into place.
Jesse turned to her. His everything. The mother of his son. His future.
And suddenly, there was no hesitation. No fear. No second-guessing. Just clarity.
He didn’t want to waste another second.
“Marry me,” he said.
Hayley’s breath hitched. “Jesse—”
“I don’t have a ring yet,” he admitted, cupping her face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “But I swear to God, I will. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” His voice was quiet but certain. “Just say yes, Hayley.”
Hayley let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking her head, tears still slipping down her cheeks. “God, Jesse. This is the worst proposal I’ve ever heard.”
Jesse grinned. “Yeah?”
She nodded, smiling through her tears. “Absolutely terrible.”
“But…” Jesse prodded, grinning like a lovesick idiot, because he already knew.
Jesse let go of her hand just long enough to yank his dog tags from around his neck, tugging them over his head. Then, without preamble, he slipped them over hers.
Hayley exhaled, her fingers curling around the tags hanging from her neck. She shook her head one more time.
Then whispered, “Yes.”
Jesse kissed her before she even finished saying it, his hands threading into her hair, his lips fierce, reverent, full of every damn thing he hadn’t been able to put into words.
When they finally pulled back, still breathless, still grinning like absolute fools, Hayley tilted her head. “Wait. If I’m marrying you, where the hell are we gonna live?”
Jesse smirked. “Already taken care of.”
Hayley narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“My apartment. I told you she was selling the building.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking smug as hell. “So I bought the duplex.”
Her jaw dropped. “You—what?”
Jesse grinned wider. “Yup. We’re moving into the bigger unit. The one with three bedrooms.”
“Presumptuous of you.”
“I had a feeling you’d say yes.”
Her eyes widened. “And your one-bedroom?”
Jesse shrugged. “I have a friend who is going to live there.”
“Who?” she demanded.
Jesse smirked, leaning in like he was letting her in on some grand secret. “My friend Kwilé.”
Hayley stared at him for a long second. Then, out of nowhere, she started laughing. Hard.
Jesse laughed too, pulling her into his arms, kissing her breathless all over again.
Because this time?
This time, it was real.
And he wasn’t going anywhere.