46. Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Six
JACKSON
I lean against the wall outside the bathroom. There’s only a door between us, but it feels like she’s miles away.
Uncertainty edges in.
Is this happening too soon?
I rub a hand over my face, forcing my thoughts to steady. She needs me here, solid and present.
Not spinning out.
Inside, I hear the faint shift of her feet against the tile. My fingers tap lightly against my thigh—restless, useless movement. Every second stretches, taut and heavy, until the doorknob finally turns.
My head snaps up.
Ava steps out, one hand braced on the frame like she’s holding herself up. Her eyes meet mine, wide and uncertain, and my pulse hammers hard enough I feel it in my throat. Everything in me wants to close the distance, to ask, to fix, but I wait.
Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Will you… look with me?”
“Of course,” I murmur, my voice rougher than I intend.
She swallows, then slips her hand into mine. Her palm is cool; her grip is iron. We turn back to the bathroom together, step by small step. I can feel the quick thrum of her pulse against my skin. I squeeze gently, a silent promise.
The test waits by the sink. A tiny strip of plastic that somehow weighs a ton.
We stand there an extra heartbeat, both of us just… looking. She turns her phone over on the counter; the timer’s already running.
1:41.
We don’t talk. The fan hums. Somewhere in the house the fridge kicks on, then off.
0:58. Her grip tightens.
At 0:12 the numbers start to speed up. At 0:05 I’m not sure I’m breathing.
The phone chirps. She flinches; I squeeze her hand.
We lean forward.
Positive.
The word blurs, like my brain won’t accept it.
For a second, I think I’ve read it wrong, but when I look again, it’s still there. Clear as day.
I turn to her, my heart pounding so loud it drowns everything else out. Her eyes search mine, wide and glassy, caught between fear and something that looks a lot like hope.
I can’t seem to find the right words, but I know she needs something solid from me.
“It’s real,” I say, emotion thickening my words. “We’re going to have a baby.”
A tear slides down her cheek, and I swipe it away with my thumb. She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.
She presses closer, forehead to mine, and everything else fades away.
I kiss her forehead. Fear runs a cold finger down my spine. Right behind it is awe. There’s also a spark of relief at finally being on the same page with her. When I pull back, there’s something different in her eyes. A flicker of courage breaking through.
“Come on,” I whisper. “Let’s get out of here.”
She hesitates, glancing at the test one last time like it might change its mind. Then she lets me lead her out. Sunlight spills across the floor in wide beams as we make our way to the kitchen.
I fill a glass and hand it to her. Her fingers shake only a little when she drinks. Mine do too, but I keep the glass steady. We make it to the couch and sit.
I stay close, our knees touching. “I know it’s a lot. More than either of us expected. But we’ll figure it out, okay? I’m in this with you.”
She studies my face like she’s checking for cracks. “Are you… okay?”
“Honestly? I’m a little scared,” I admit. “But also… weirdly relieved. At least we know.”
Her lips wobble as she nods. “Me too.”
She exhales, long and shaky, like she’s been holding her breath for a week. Without thinking, her hand rests lightly against her stomach. I feel something shift in my chest—protective and fierce and brand-new, layered over everything I already feel for her.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, the sound too loud in the quiet.
“It’s the trainer,” I murmur. I answer, and after a short conversation, I hang up.
“I’m out for Game 3. They think I’ll be cleared to play in Game 4.”
Ava nods, her hands restless in her lap. “That’s good. You’ll be back on the ice before it’s over.”
“Yeah. I’ll still travel with the team for Game 3. We head out in two days.”
She looks up. “Do you want me to come with you?”
Her question catches me off guard, hitting somewhere deep.
“Only if you want to,” I say carefully.
“I do.” She slides her fingers into mine, giving my hand a firm squeeze. “I want to be there with you. Miss Taylor can stay with the boys.”
I curl my hand around hers, my thumb tracing softly over her knuckles.
“I’d like that.”
She nods, then her brow furrows. “I should probably call my doctor.” She swallows. “They’ll want to check everything. Make sure…”
I squeeze her hand. “I’ll drive,” I say. “I’ll sit in the waiting room. Or go in if you want me to. Whatever you need.”
She gives a tiny, relieved nod, her shoulders dropping just a fraction.
She nudges her knee against mine. “This wasn’t in my plan,” she says softly, a rueful little smile tugging at her mouth.
“Mine either,” I admit. “But plans change. What doesn’t is me. I’m not going anywhere.”