Chapter 25 Monday, May 15th #3
She hits a button, and suddenly we can hear it—that fast, fluttering rhythm, like hummingbird wings. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
Neither of us speaks. We just listen, both of us still, both trying to process what this really means: there’s a baby. A real one. Hers. And mine. Ours. Our baby.
Dr. Simmons takes some measurements, then grabs a few more stills before glancing up. “You’re eight weeks along.”
Okay, I know enough that pregnancy math means subtracting a week. Maybe two? I do the math automatically.
Montana. Right when we got back together.
Memories flash through my brain—Cat in my truck, in my lap, breathless and urgent.
Later in her bed, when I worshiped her slowly, when I thrust into her with deep, long strokes.
In the barn when she demanded more, and I gave her everything.
Or one of those other wild, desperate moments we stole from the world that week.
So many times, like we seemingly couldn’t get close enough. I guess we did after all.
Dr. Simmons checks her calendar, then smiles. “How do you feel about a Christmas due date?”
Cat’s trying to contain the small smile tugging at her lips, but I notice it anyway. “Really?”
“Really,” Doctor Simmons says. “We’ll be able to determine the baby’s gender in about another seven or eight weeks.”
Cat shakes her head immediately. “I don’t want to know,” she says, then turns to me. “Is that okay?”
“If you don’t want to find out, we won’t find out.
” My answer is easy, solid. Of all the things I’m uncertain of right now, I know this one thing for sure: I’ll follow her lead.
I’ll be what she needs. She’s the one doing the impossible, the one whose body is already changing, already carrying the weight of something new.
The least I can do is carry what’s mine.
Honestly, I don’t care if it’s a boy or girl. I just care that Cat’s okay.
“I want to see you again in a month,” Dr. Simmons says, already standing and gathering her things. “Until then, try to rest when you can. The nurse will give you some information up front. You’ll also need to have your blood drawn before you leave.”
She hands Cat a printout with four ultrasound stills. Cat stares down at them for a long moment before quietly taking my hand. I squeeze it, grounding us both, and guide her out of the office.
Cat
I can’t even begin to describe how surreal the past few days have felt, how strange this doctor’s appointment was.
Even after seeing the baby on the ultrasound, hearing its heartbeat, Ronan by my side, holding my hand, it still feels like an out-of-body experience. There’s a human growing inside me.
My hands move to my stomach and I rest them there, even though there’s obviously no belly yet and no movement can be felt. I feel Ronan’s eyes on me and turn my head to look at him.
“I can’t believe we’re having a baby,” I finally say.
“Me neither,” he says with a sigh, his voice heavy. “How are you feeling?”
“Scared. Really scared. You?”
“Same. We’re going to have to figure out some stuff.”
I nod. We sure do. We fall silent then, each retreating into our own heads, into our own anxious thoughts.
The most immediate decision we’ll need to make is also the hardest, most difficult. It’s all I think about while Ronan navigates the sticky afternoon traffic. I run the scenarios in my head—us with a baby, us without a baby—even when we arrive at home, while Ronan makes us a quick lunch.
“Ran?” I start, gathering every ounce of strength to initiate the conversation I know we have to have. “Do… do you…” I stutter and stumble. “I mean…”
He stops mid-bite, looking at me, brows raised in quiet encouragement. I’m too scared to ask the question outright.
“You know we don’t have to keep it,” I say with heavy meaning wedged between the words.
“You mean, like, adoption?” he asks carefully.
I nod slowly. “Yeah, or, you know… termination?”
He looks at me again—his eyes searching mine—and then exhales, something unreadable shifting behind his gaze.
“Baby,” he says, his voice calm but serious. “I need you to know that my next words are the truth. No hidden meaning. No subtext. No secrets, okay? I know I haven’t always been totally open, but I told you: no more bullshit.”
I nod, signaling that I understand.
“Whatever you want,” he says simply.
I blink.
“Whatever you want,” he repeats, firmer now.
“I don’t want you to hold back because of me.
If you want to have this baby and give it up for adoption, then that’s what we’ll do.
If you don’t want to carry the pregnancy to term, then I’ll be by your side through that.
If you want to have this baby… with me… then we will have this baby.
It’s your body. The only person who gets to decide what happens next is you. ”
I think my heart just left my body, climbed into his lap, and curled up there. “Love” suddenly feels like too small a word for what I feel for him right now.
He looks at me again. “So what do you want, baby? Given everything. What do you truly want?”
I sit with the question for a moment, pretending to think it over. But I already know. I’ve known since I saw that little worm twitch on the ultrasound screen. Maybe even before that—maybe the moment I saw the two pink lines.
I’ve weighed every version of this life: one where we walk away, one where we give someone else the chance to raise it, one where we try and fail and break ourselves in the process.
But none of them felt right. None of them felt like us.
“I want to keep it,” I whisper.
For a moment, guilt wants to nip at me for how easily I say it, for thrusting us into something so utterly life-changing when I know how he’s felt, know what a line this crossed for him, even if unintentionally.
“Okay,” he says.
I wait. He’s not done. His jaw clenches.
“But what I told you in Montana still goes. If I lash out at you or… or the baby, you walk. You have to promise me that, Cat. It’s the only way I’ll be able to sleep at night. I need to know that you’re ready to protect yourself and—”
I rest my hand on his right arm. “I’m ready, Ran. I won’t need to, but I’m ready.”
He exhales shakily. “Okay.”
“Okay. And… you’ll need to protect me from my dad.” The next storm is already building in the distance; I feel my blood pressure rise just thinking about it.
Ronan lets out a dry, humorless laugh. “Only if you’ll protect me from mine.”
I snort. “Deal.”
“Fuck,” he mutters.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “Fuck.”
Ronan
I don’t rouse Cat from her sleep. She passed out on the couch about an hour ago. She looks so relaxed, sleeping peacefully for the first time, I imagine, since finding out she’s pregnant.
I already texted Tori, asking her to bring back some dinner so Cat has something to eat when she wakes up. She didn’t eat much today—probably from the nerves—which can’t be good. Especially now.
I slide into my car, call Dr. Seivert’s office, and leave a message asking for a callback once she’s in tomorrow.
I’ve been slacking on therapy, but if I’ve ever had an incentive to get my upstairs shit in order, it’s this.
There’s no ignoring the dark family history, not anymore.
Before, I could run, could try to hide. No more.
It’s time to face that crap head-on. I’ll be damned if I’m not going to fight my demons with everything I’ve got.
The nanosecond Shane spots me at Murphy’s, he waves me into the office and shuts the door behind us. “Tori’s made some kind of vow of silence,” he says with a huff. “Wouldn’t tell me anything. All she texted me was, ‘You’ll know when you know.’”
“Yeah, so, I need to talk to you.”
His eyes widen. “Oh shit.”
“I need a bump in my pay and more hours.”
His eyelashes flutter like I just offered to Riverdance on the bar counter. “Okay. I mean, we can talk about it. But…?” He’s already bracing for something bigger.
Might as well rip off the Band-Aid. “Cat’s pregnant.”
Shane blinks. His mouth opens. Closes. His brow furrows. Reminds me a lot of me roughly six hours ago.
“You’re fucking joking, right?” he finally says, pressing his palms to the cluttered desk.
“I wish I was.”
“Holy fucking shit, Ran. No fucking way.”
“Yes, way. Three tests, one doctor’s visit, and one ultrasound all confirm it.”
“That’s… fuck… that’s…” He’s scrambling for words. “It’s yours, right?”
I roll my eyes. “No, it’s Stevie’s.”
“Hey, just checking,” he says quickly, holding up his hands. “Oh fuck, dude.” His whole vibe shifts, realization blooming in real time, almost like it’s happening to him. Yep, exactly how I felt earlier today.
“This is… fuck, this is heavy,” he says.
“Yeah. It really complicates things,” I say through gritted teeth.
“That’s an understatement. Dude, didn’t you… weren’t you guys using protection?” There’s surprise in his tone, probably because he knows how careful I’ve always been.
“Yeah, she’s been on the pill since we got together, but…”
“Shit,” he groans, dragging a hand over his head.
“So, yeah. Seeing as I’m about to be responsible not only for making sure Cat’s okay, but also feeding and clothing a kid…” The words still feel foreign in my mouth. “I need to either make more working here or find something else. Obviously, I’d rather stay here, but—”
“Dude, no, I got you,” Shane says instantly. “What are you thinking?”
“Uh, if I can work twelves on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, plus pick up Mondays? And if you could bump me a couple of bucks an hour? That would help.”
“That would only give you one day off, Ran. You sure?”
I shrug. “I don’t think I have a choice.”
He nods pensively. “I’ll take a look at the schedule, but I’m pretty sure we can make it happen. And I’m sure my dad’ll be fine with the raise.”
“You know, honestly, all of this might not matter come Friday,” I say dryly.
“Why?”
“My grandparents are flying in, and the plan is to tell both our families at dinner. So… I may not survive the night.”
He snorts. “That’s a very real concern.”
I groan, the weight of it all finally breaking through. “How am I supposed to do this, man?” I sink into one of the creaky office chairs and drop my head in my hands. “How am I supposed to—”
God, it hits me like a dumbbell to the chest.
Cat and I are having a baby.
I’m going to be a dad. I’m only turning nineteen in June… I have the unprocessed weight of my mother’s dark family history on my shoulders, and I have no idea how to protect Cat, let alone a baby, from what might lurk inside me.
“By taking it one day at a time,” Shane says. “There’s no point in overthinking this right now.”
“Easy for you to say.”
He lowers himself in the chair next to me, draping an arm over my shoulder. “Yeah, I know. But you’re not alone, Ran. You have Cat and me and Stevie. And, yeah, your families are probably going to freak the fuck out at first, but they’ll come around. Try not to stress.”
“Dude, have you even met me?” I deadpan. “It’s what I do. I stress about shit.”
He laughs. “Sorry, forgot who I was talking to for a second.”
Somehow, I already feel lighter.
“When is Cat officially moving in?” he asks.
I blink. “Uh, I… I haven’t thought that far. Are you sure you want a newborn in your apartment?”
“You mean our apartment? It’s your place, too. And what, you’d just… put the kid in storage?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Find another place?”
“Fuck that,” Shane says. “I’m not about to kick you out just because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.”
I groan. “You’re such an asshole.”
“But I’m a supportive asshole,” he says with a grin. “Plus, your kid can only benefit from spending its early years around Uncle Shane.” He pretends to wipe something off his shoulder with a smug look.
That does it. I laugh. “Uncle Shane? You sure about that?”
“Fuck yes. That kid is going to be a badass.”
“No doubt about that. I’m just wondering if you’re really set on ‘Uncle Shane’ or if you’d consider something… less creepy-sounding.”
Shane always manages to make me feel better about the heaviness in my life. There’s a reason why he and Cat are such anchors for me.
“Whatever the kid wants to call me, I’m cool with.” That smug but soft-ass look is back on his face.
“Damn, Ran,” he says suddenly, eyes wide like it just hit him. Again. “You’re gonna be a dad.”
“Don’t say it out loud,” I mutter. “It makes it too real.”