Chapter 51
CHAPTER 51
DIXIE
T he waiting room was filled with young children and women in various stages of pregnancy. Some princess was singing from the TV in the corner that was doing nothing to entertain the children that crawled around on the floor. This was going to be my life for the next nine months. I would be coming to the OB/GYN every month or more often.
I still couldn’t get my head around the idea.
I stared down at the clipboard in my hands, the words on the form blurring together as my thoughts spiraled. Pregnant. I was pregnant. The word felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else’s life, not mine. I had been saying the word over and over and it was still so weird to think I was referring to me. But here I was, sitting in this waiting room with a dozen other women, all of us united by this one overwhelming fact.
My stomach churned, and I wasn’t sure if it was morning sickness or sheer panic. I hadn’t even told Hayes yet. Every time I thought about it, my throat closed up, and I couldn’t find the words. How do you tell someone something that will change everything?
The silence between us had been eating at me for days. The secret was a weight pressing down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I wanted to tell him, needed to tell him, but I was terrified. Terrified of his reaction. Terrified of what this would mean for us.
I told myself I would tell him after the appointment. I supposed I wanted to know with absolute certainty that I was pregnant. I wanted to be able to tell him the baby was fine and give him a due date. Facts. I was relying on facts. I returned my clipboard with my medical history and sat back down.
My leg bounced nervously, clutching my phone like it was a lifeline. Frankie was beside me, scrolling through her phone, but I could tell she was keeping an eye on me. She always did.
I stared at the text I’d just sent Hayes, my stomach in knots.
Hey, I’d love to see you tonight. There’s something I want to talk to you about.
I hit send before I could overthink it, but the second it was gone, I regretted it. What if he didn’t answer? What if he did? What if he had given up on me?
By the time the nurse called my name, he still hadn’t replied.
Frankie stood with me, her hand giving mine a quick squeeze. “Let’s do this.”
I nodded. The nurse led us down a narrow hallway with pictures of babies at various stages in the womb, her cheerful tone doing little to ease the knot in my stomach. I focused on the pictures, anything to distract myself from the enormity of what was happening. Frankie stayed close as we entered the exam room.
I went through the usual pre-doctor things. I peed in a cup and returned to the room. I was so damn nervous.
Once I was settled on the exam table, the paper gown crinkling beneath me, Frankie stood beside me. “You’re going to be fine,” she said.
The appointment itself was… underwhelming. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected—maybe some grand revelation or a dramatic moment where everything suddenly made sense. Instead, it was mostly talking. The doctor asked me a million questions about my health, my family history, my lifestyle. She gave me paperwork for bloodwork and handed me a stack of pamphlets that felt heavier than they should have.
“These are resources for you,” she said, her tone kind but clinical. “Information on prenatal care, nutrition, support groups. There’s also information on doulas if you’re interested.”
I blinked at her. “What’s a doula?”
She smiled, like she got that question a lot. “A trained professional who provides emotional and physical support during pregnancy and childbirth. Some people find them really helpful.”
I nodded, but my head was spinning. There was so much I didn’t know, so much I hadn’t even thought about. My limited research did not prepare me for this.
“Are you ready to hear the heartbeat?” the doctor asked.
I stared at her. “Seriously?”
It was that moment it all became real. There was a legit baby growing inside me.
The doctor smiled. “We’ll give it a try. No promises, but sometimes I’m lucky and can find the little peanut.”
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. Frankie squeezed my hand again, as the doctor moved around the room, preparing the ultrasound. The cold gel on my stomach made me flinch, but I barely registered it. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure it would drown out anything else.
The doctor pressed the wand against my skin, moving it slowly. For a moment, there was nothing but static. Then, faintly, a rhythmic whooshing sound filled the room.
“There it is,” the doctor said, her voice warm with approval. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”
I stared at the ceiling, tears blurring my vision. The sound was so small, so fragile, yet it felt like the loudest thing I’d ever heard. Frankie’s grip on my hand tightened, and when I glanced at her, her eyes were glistening too.
“That’s your baby,” she whispered.
It was official—I was pregnant.
I got dressed and made an appointment for the following month.
“Lunch?” Frankie asked. “You’re eating for two now.”
“Yes. I’m starving.”
We ended up at a little café down the street, the kind of place with mismatched chairs and a chalkboard menu. Frankie ordered for both of us, knowing I’d just stare at the menu for ten minutes without deciding. When the food came, she launched into a monologue about all the things she was going to do when the baby arrived.
“If it’s a girl, I’m buying her all the cute dresses,” she said. “And ribbons for her hair. Oh my gosh, little girl shoes are just adorable. I’m going to spoil this kid rotten.”
I laughed. “What if it’s a boy?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Then I’ll buy him tiny suits and bow ties. Either way, this kid is going to be the best-dressed baby in town.”
Her excitement was contagious, and for a little while, I let myself imagine it—a tiny human with Hayes’s eyes and my nose, wrapped in a soft blanket, surrounded by people who loved them. It was a nice thought, even if it still felt a little unreal.
“Have you heard from Mom and Dad?”
I shook my head, poking at my food. “Not a peep.”
“And Hayes?”
I glanced at my phone, which had been silent all morning. “Nothing.”
Frankie frowned. “That’s weird, right? He usually texts you back.”
I shrugged, trying to play it off like it didn’t bother me. “Maybe he’s busy.”
But the truth was, it did bother me. Hayes wasn’t the type to ignore a text from me. I hoped he was okay. Rather that we were okay.
After lunch, Frankie drove me home, her chatter constant. When we pulled up to my apartment, I was surprised to see Hayes’s car parked out front.
“Looks like someone’s here,” Frankie said, raising an eyebrow.
My heart skipped a beat. “Yeah.”
She gave me a knowing look. “You want me to stay?”
I shook my head. “No, I’ve got this.”
She squeezed my hand. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”
“I will.”
I got out of the car and walked up to my apartment, my stomach in knots. Hayes was sitting on the steps at the top landing, his elbows resting on his knees, his head down. He looked up when he heard me approach, and the expression on his face made my heart sink.
I didn’t need him to say anything. We were not okay.
“Hey,” I said, forcing a smile.
“Hey,” he replied, standing up.
“I texted you. I would have come home earlier if I knew you were waiting.”
He shrugged. “I haven’t been here long.”
“Come in,” I said.
I unlocked the door and let us in, my mind racing. I could tell something was off. We settled in the living room, and I couldn’t help but glance at the drawer in the coffee table where the test was still tucked away. I took a deep breath, conjuring up the courage to tell him about the baby.
“I’d like to tell you something,” I said, my voice trembling slightly.
This was it. The moment I’d been dreading and anticipating in equal measure. I wondered what he’d say, how he’d react. Would he be excited? Scared? Angry? I’d been warming up to the idea of this baby, starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, Hayes and I could figure this out together. People did it all the time, right?
And after listening to Frankie going on and on, even I was envisioning frilly dresses and little bowties. I was picturing a precocious boy bringing me bugs or taking my little girl to ballerina class.
“I already know,” he said.
At first, I didn’t register what he was saying.
I faltered, my heart pounding. “Know what?”
“About the baby.”
My stomach dropped. “How?”
He grimaced, like part of him had hoped it wasn’t true, and that made me want to disappear. He sighed and hung his head. My first question should not have been how he knew. That just made me sound very guilty. Knowing that he knew and I didn’t tell him was a huge blow. It was exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I hated that I wasn’t the one to tell him. It just made me look deceitful. Guilty. And now he was probably questioning whether the child was his at all. That thought was worse than anything.
“How long have you known?” he asked quietly.
I cringed. I could have lied to try and make this look less bad, but if he knew about the pregnancy, he likely knew a lot more. I didn’t want to lie. It was only going to get in the way.
“Two weeks,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just.”
He nodded, his jaw tight. I sat and waited for him to say something.
“Who told you?” I asked.
Frankie was with me.
Simon .
Shit.
He looked at me, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite place. There was hurt and anger and disappointment. The disappointment hurt the most.
“Your mother.”
My eyes narrowed, anger flaring in my chest. I couldn’t have heard him right. How? When? Why!
“What the hell?!” I gasped. “My mother!”
He didn’t answer, just sat there, his shoulders slumped like the weight of the world was on them.
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. My mother had gone behind my back, had taken this moment away from me. I told her I wanted to be the one to tell him. It was my secret to tell. Damn her. She had no right.
And Hayes… he’d known for who knows how long and hadn’t said a word.
I didn’t know what to say, what to do. All I knew was that everything had changed, and I wasn’t sure if it was for better or worse. Judging by the look on his face, we were definitely in the worse category.