Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Hudson arrived twelve minutes early for the prenatal appointment and stood when Abby entered the waiting room. He wore the navy suit she had once helped him choose for meetings with his father, and his expression held the grave attentiveness of a man preparing to be observed.
“You look tired,” he said as he reached for the folder in her hand. “Give me that, and I’ll carry it.”
“Thanks, that’s what every woman loves to hear.” Abby kept hold of the folder and took the chair farthest from him. “I’m fine, and it only has two forms in it.”
Hudson lowered himself into the chair beside hers. “I was trying to help, Abby. You don’t have to turn every ordinary gesture into a referendum on our relationship.”
“There is no relationship, Hudson. Nothing but co-parents.”
The receptionist glanced toward them before returning to her monitor. Abby opened the folder and checked the forms she had already completed, unwilling to begin an argument in a room full of expectant parents.
“Thank you for coming on time,” she said. “I sent you the boundaries for today, and I need you to follow them.”
“I read your email.” Hudson crossed one ankle over his knee and lowered his voice. “I still think it was unnecessary to write to me as if I’m a difficult client.”
“Written communication keeps things clear.” Abby returned the forms to the folder. “That is how we’ll handle plans concerning the baby.”
His mouth tightened, but the nurse opened the door before he answered. Hudson stood immediately and offered Abby his hand in full view of the waiting room.
She rose without taking it. The warmth in his expression did not falter until the nurse turned away.
Inside the examination room, Hudson became the version of himself Abby had trusted for nine years.
He thanked the nurse by name after reading it from her badge, asked where he should sit, and listened without interruption while Abby described the nausea that still appeared without warning.
He looked, for all the world, as an attentive partner and future father. Abby resisted making a sharp remark.
When the doctor entered, Hudson shook her hand and introduced himself as the baby’s father. He did not mention the canceled wedding or the apartment Abby had left, and the omission allowed them to resemble an ordinary couple for several uncomfortable minutes.
“The heartbeat is strong,” Dr. Shah said as she moved the monitor so they could both see it. “Growth is right where we expect at thirteen weeks and two days.”
Abby watched the small shape on the screen shift beneath the sweep of the wand. The image was clearer than it had been three weeks earlier, with the curve of a head and a body that no longer required the doctor’s explanation to seem real.
Hudson leaned forward in his chair. “Can you tell the sex yet, or is that at the next appointment?”
“We may be able to learn through bloodwork now, but the anatomy scan is usually around twenty weeks.” Dr. Shah looked toward Abby. “Some patients want to know as early as possible, and others prefer to wait.”
“We’ll find out,” Hudson said as he kept his eyes on the screen. “There’s no reason to make planning harder than it needs to be.”
Dr. Shah did not respond to him. “Have you decided what you prefer, Abby?”
“I want to know,” Abby said after considering it. “I haven’t decided whether I want anyone else told immediately.”
Hudson gave a short laugh and turned toward her. “I assume the father qualifies as more than anyone else.”
“The results will go to Abby because she is the patient,” Dr. Shah said as she wiped the gel from Abby’s abdomen. “She can decide how and when to share them.”
The pleasant expression stayed on Hudson’s face, though Abby saw the small movement in his jaw. “Of course. I only meant that I’m looking forward to knowing.”
He remained controlled through the rest of the appointment. He asked reasonable questions about nutrition and travel, accepted the doctor’s answer when she said Abby could continue working, and carried the printed information after asking permission a second time.
In the parking garage, the performance ended before the elevator doors closed behind them. Hudson pressed the button for the ground floor, then looked at Abby’s reflection in the metal doors.
“You embarrassed me in there,” he said as he folded the doctor’s papers into a neat curve. “You made it sound as if you might conceal medical information about my own child.”
“I said I hadn’t decided when I would tell people the sex.” Abby took the papers from his hand before he creased them further. “That isn’t the same as concealing medical information.”
“You knew what I meant, and so did the doctor.” Hudson turned to face her as the elevator descended. “You invited me, then used the appointment to show a stranger that I have no place in this pregnancy.”
“The appointment was about the baby’s health.” Abby slipped the papers into her folder. “It wasn’t an opportunity to establish your place with me.”
Hudson stared at her for a moment. “My mother has already contacted an interior designer, and I told her to hold off because I thought you should have some input. Apparently even that was giving you too much credit.”
The doors opened onto the garage. Abby stepped out and stopped beside a concrete pillar, where another couple stood within sight near the payment kiosk.
“There will be no designer,” she said. “I signed a lease yesterday on a new place, and I’ll choose what goes into the apartment.”
Hudson’s expression emptied. “You signed a lease without discussing it with me?”
“I told you I was finding my own place.” Abby tightened her grip on the folder. “The lease is for twelve months, and the building is close to Sadie and my office.”
“Where?” Hudson asked as he took a step closer. “I need the address.”
“You’ll have the address when I decide to share it.” Abby kept her voice level. “For now, you can send anything through my attorney or to my post-office box.”
“That is insane.” Hudson looked toward the couple by the kiosk and lowered his voice. “You are treating me like a threat because you know it makes your behavior look more reasonable.”
“I’m creating privacy while we learn how to communicate.” Abby began walking toward her car. “You have ignored every boundary I gave you. Don’t make me regret inviting you today.”
Hudson followed her between the rows of vehicles. “I respected every one of your rules today, and you repaid me by hiding where my child will live.”
“The baby is living inside my body right now.” Abby stopped at her car and faced him over the roof. “The apartment address has nothing to do with your ability to attend appointments or receive health updates.”
“You cannot make decisions like this forever.” Hudson placed one hand on the roof before she could open the driver’s door. “Once the baby is here, a judge will care whether you’re being cooperative.”
Fear moved through her with the cold precision of a blade. Abby reached for the sentence her attorney had made her practice before the appointment.
“If you have a legal concern, put it in writing and send it to my attorney,” she said as she met his eyes. “Move your hand so I can leave.”
Hudson did not move at once. He studied her face as if waiting for the softer version of Abby to return and spare him the indignity of obeying.
Then he lifted his hand and stepped back. “You’re letting Sadie and Evan turn you into someone you won’t recognize.”
“Neither of them chose the apartment.” Abby opened the door and placed her folder on the passenger seat. “I did.”
She locked the doors as soon as she was inside. Hudson remained beside the car, one hand in his pocket, looking less like a grieving father than a man who had been excluded from a meeting he expected to control.
The apartment was on the third floor of a brick building constructed before anyone considered where tenants might store a stroller.
It had one bedroom, a narrow second room without a closet that the listing called a study, and a kitchen cabinet that refused to close unless Abby lifted the door before pushing it inward.
It was also seven minutes from Sadie’s house, fifteen minutes from Abby’s office, and within her budget without help from Hudson. Sunlight reached the living room for most of the afternoon, and the bedroom windows faced a line of bare trees instead of another building.
Sadie stood in the center of the empty living room on moving day and turned in a slow circle. “I still think the sofa should face the windows. You’ll get more light, and nobody needs to make the television the center of civilization.”
“The outlet is on the other wall,” Abby said as she steadied a box with one foot. “I’m not running a cord across the room because you have strong feelings about television.”
Sadie pointed at the baseboard. “There’s an outlet under the window, and I saw it before you covered it with that box. My feelings are supported by evidence.”
Abby bent to move the box and stopped when a wave of dizziness made the room shift. She straightened slowly, one hand braced against her thigh.
“Sit down,” Sadie said as she crossed the room. “I mean it, Abby. You have been carrying things since eight this morning.”
“I have been carrying pillows and telling everyone else where the furniture goes.” Abby allowed Sadie to guide her toward a dining chair. “You make it sound as if I moved the sofa on my back.”
“You tried to take a box of books away from me twenty minutes ago.” Sadie unscrewed a bottle of water and placed it in Abby’s hand. “Your inability to lift it does not make the attempt sensible.”
A knock sounded against the open door before Abby could answer. Evan stood in the hallway holding two paper grocery bags, with a canvas tool bag hanging from one shoulder.
“I brought what you asked for,” he said as he entered and set the bags on the kitchen counter. “There are also crackers and ginger tea because Sadie sent a second list.”