22. Clay #2
“I see; I look forward to that moment then,” I say, winking at her. “Can I get anything else for you before I go shower?”
“No, I’m good, thank you.” She smiles at me.
“Well, we’re going to get going,” Kennedy says.
“Lola, come,” River says. Lola stays rooted in place. Abby gives Lola a few extra scratches and then gives her permission to go off with River and Kennedy. She finally relents and takes off.
River looks at us like he’s taken offense that his dog doesn’t want to leave.
“That’s low, Abby, stealing another man’s dog.” River brings his hand to his heart like he’s wounded.
“So dramatic, River.” Abby rolls her eyes.
Kennedy rounds the bed, gives Abby a hug, and whispers, “Lean on me whenever you want.” Kennedy kisses her cheek, and I can see the two of them have grown close in a short amount of time.
River grabs the bags Kennedy had brought, and once I hear the front door close, I turn to Abby. “Are you sure you don’t need anything before I grab a shower?”
“No, thank you. I’m not on bed rest, Clay. I can get up, remember?” she says with a wink, sipping her tea and taking a bite of her toast.
“Right. Still feeling alright?” I ask, probably for the hundredth time.
She rolls her eyes, likely annoyed by my pestering, but I don’t even care. “Yes, drill sergeant. Go!” She shoos me off, and I start to walk away.
“What time should we head out? Ten forty-five?” We have an appointment with her regular obstetrician. It’s a fun one because we get another ultrasound. Any opportunity to see the baby is one we look forward to.
“Yeah, that should be enough time to get to the office,” she says, already focused on the screen in front of her.
I’m about to walk out of the room when she screams.
“Oh my gosh, what is it?” My heart may literally leap out of my chest.
“I think the baby just kicked. I have been feeling little movements. They’re more like flutters for me.
Samara told me, last I spoke to her, it would feel like a fish swimming against your skin at first. But this one felt like a limb.
Oh my gosh.” She’s got her palm against her belly, her smile so wide, tears instantly pooling.
“Do you think I could feel?” Even though we’ve been intimate, I still don’t know where we stand. Everything feels fragile between us, so I’m tentative as I approach her.
“Of course,” she says, one hand still splayed on her belly while the other motions for me to come over.
I walk around the bed and sit down opposite her.
The minute I take a seat, she grabs my hand and presses it against her warm belly, directly against her skin. At first, I don’t feel anything. She makes a face, disappointment etching her features.
She uses her hand and guides mine around her belly, hoping to capture the movement again.
“Come on, little one, let Daddy feel you move,” she coos at the baby.
This is the first time she’s spoken to the baby in front of me, and it’s the first time the acknowledgment of daddy is made from her to me. A lump forms in my throat. I try to tamp it down but find it futile. It’s hard to hide the emotion.
She presses my hand against her belly, and I try to resist, not wanting to hurt her.
“It doesn’t hurt, Clay,” she says, as if reading my mind.
Before I can protest, I feel it, this little kick from the inside.
I take a breath in, my eyes go wide, and I am not even the least bit embarrassed to admit I cry.
The tears fall down my cheeks as our baby kicks against my hand, and that life that I believe brought us back together makes it known to us both.
“Our little miracle,” Abby whispers. She’s looking down at her belly, which is still so small in comparison to something so powerful, yet it holds so much love.
“Yes, truly a miracle,” I say, bringing my other hand to hold her belly on the opposite side, and on instinct, I kiss the center. Abby moves her opposite hand through my hair, and I relish the feeling.
I whisper a soft, I love you to my little son or daughter and hope they hear me. Nothing sweeter has ever existed.
“Do you mind if we stop at a coffee shop on the way home?” I ask, headed back from our appointment.
We couldn’t have asked for a better appointment. In reality, after the scare Abby had the other week, things have gone smoothly. I’m so relieved. She could have gotten hurt, but I don’t allow my mind to wander to the worst-case scenario.
The baby was bouncing on the screen today, and each time Abby giggled, the baby reacted on the ultrasound. We were surprised to find out the technician could see the baby’s gender, even with all the movement.
We had gone back and forth on finding out, not sure if we were going to wait until the delivery day to know for sure.
We decided to put the results in an envelope and find out later.
Abby said getting pregnant spontaneously was a pretty big surprise.
She thought getting the nursery ready together might be a fun project.
We’re torn whether to find out with the family or just make it about us looking in the envelope at a later date. I’m leaning toward it just being me and her because this has been about the two of us coming back together, even though that seems to be a slow-moving process.
It feels like we have taken two steps forward, then ten steps back when it comes to where we stand, but I’m hoping what I’m about to do helps us somewhat. I think I’ve figured out how to start anew, and my plan is starting now.
“Sure. Is there a spot you have in mind?” she asks, looking down at the images that were printed, not the ones where the gender is revealed. She’s not even paying attention to where I’m driving us. “Isn’t it crazy how big the baby is getting, and yet, I am not showing that much?”
“They say everyone carries differently,” I repeat what her doctor said. She’s forgotten about the coffee shop, so I simply keep driving.
The moment I pull up to the spot, I cut the engine and open my door. I walk around and open her door. She’s still too enthralled by the ultrasound pictures to look up, but I go to grab her, and it pulls her out of her thoughts enough to get her gaze to shift toward the spot I’ve brought us.
Amazonia’s Bean Co . is displayed up above, and her mouth hangs open.
“What are we doing here?” She uses my hand to stand and shifts her gaze from the sign in front of us to me.
This is where we met years ago, and it’s where I first saw the woman I would fall in love with.
“Abby, I have loved you, probably since the moment I laid eyes on you. I was a stupid twenty-year-old kid who needed something warm on a cold day, and I left this place with more than a cup of coffee. I left with my heart full. You keep saying you were a shell of yourself at the end of our marriage. I’m here to remind you that’s not how it has to be.
“Life is about navigating the changes it brings. It’s about weaving through the hard parts and figuring out how we want to adapt.
You’ve adapted. You’re not hollow; you’re adapting.
But I get it. For you, it felt like you were on empty.
I’m here to recharge you. This baby will be a symbol of all the pieces of you that have overcome the hardships you have in the past. But it will also be a symbol of the parts of our future we still get to live.
Piece by piece, I’ll give you these little glimpses into the past so that together, you can still be you.
Because I think we can still be us, just as much as you can be yourself when we’re apart. ”
I see her eyes fill with tears, but she holds back from letting them fall. She keeps looking from me to the sign in front of us.
“Please, Abby, just give me this shot. Give us a chance again. Let me try. Let me try for us. I get you’re scared. But for all the moments you’re scared of being lost with me, I’m petrified that I can’t live without you.” I put my hand on the bump that’s growing this life of ours.
“But what if I lose this version of me I already lost before?” she says in a whisper.
“Then I'll be right here beside you, ready to help you find your way back. But what if you soar higher than you ever thought possible?” I say in return, moving that chestnut hair that blows in her face, those bright-blue eyes looking back at me, and I feel like she’s warming my heart with her gaze.
She beams at that response and then grabs my hand. Before she drags me into the cafe, I pull her toward me and grasp her cheeks.
My hazel eyes lock onto hers, and I feel like I’m having an entire conversation with her as I lose myself in her gaze. And then I bring my lips down on hers, and that zap of energy I’ve longed for takes over, and I kiss the woman who was made for me.
Her hands grip the sides of my shirt and pull me closer. The little moan that I pull from Abby spurs me on, and all I want to do is deepen the kiss, but then I remember we are on a public sidewalk, so I pull back. A soft smile grazes her features when I pull away.
I think she might actually be falling for my charms.
Again.