Chapter 27
Chapter twenty-seven
A constellation of light across the screen
Reid
I’m halfway through a recovery circuit when my phone buzzes on the bench beside me.
I almost ignore it, because I only have thirty more seconds on the bike, but something makes me glance over anyway.
Heidi (Physio)
I slow down and hit accept on the first ring.
“Hey—”
“She’s okay.”
I stop pedaling.
“She?” My voice is already sharp.
Heidi sighs softly. “Carina. She’s okay, I just—look, I probably shouldn’t be calling you, but I figured you’d wanna know.”
I’m already wiping my face, already standing up.
“What happened?”
“She got lightheaded, and eventually confessed she’d skipped lunch. It’s not dramatic, she didn’t faint or anything, but she’s pushing too hard, and she won’t sit down.”
Fucking hell.
“She’s okay,” Heidi says again, gentler now. “But she looks pale, and she brushed me off. And yeah, I know calling you is a choice, but she’s over halfway now, Reid. I didn’t wanna risk her pretending she’s fine if she’s not.”
“I’m on my way.”
I don’t even hang up, just grab my keys and go, barely registering the drive.
By the time I pull into the Moreno Clinic lot, I’ve run through every worst-case scenario twice. Something with the baby, maybe her blood pressure. Something internal she’d never tell anyone about or something she’d try to handle on her own just to prove she still could.
I shove through the clinic doors. Jenny is at the desk, mid-sentence with someone else, but her eyes snap straight to me when I walk in. I see the flicker of recognition.
“Mr. Hutchison! I’m not sure we—”
“You don’t.” I don’t stop for her. I head straight for the corridor that I know leads down to her consult room.
Heidi rounds the corner a second later, her eyes wide and already holding a hand out like she’s preparing to calm down a feral animal.
“Where is she?”
“She’s alright. Come on, this way.”
I follow without question, every muscle in my body stretching tight. Heidi pushes open a side door to one of the consult rooms, not Carina’s office.
She’s sitting on the small padded bench, still in her white coat. A water bottle in one hand, her other arm braced against the wall like she needs the contact to stay upright. She looks up when I enter, and the second our eyes meet, her expression darkens.
She’s not happy I’m here. She is pale, though.
And tired. There’s a sheen of sweat at her temple, and the top she has on underneath her coat is stretched tight across her bump.
“You didn’t need to come,” she mutters.
I don’t answer. I’m too busy scanning her. Eyes to belly. Belly to face. I take in the slight shake in her hand when she unscrews the cap on her water.
Heidi lingers behind me. “Vitals are stable, and baby’s moving well. She just looked off, and I didn’t wanna take chances.”
Carina lets out a frustrated exhale and takes another sip of water, her eyes darting to Heidi, then back to me.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
“You don’t look fine,” I say tightly.
Heidi lifts her hands like she already regrets getting involved. “Alright, I’m not in this. Just didn’t want her passing out before the scan.”
Carina mutters something under her breath, but Heidi’s already backing toward the door.
“Scan’s in an hour anyway,” she adds. “Why don’t you just take her now, Reid? Get there early and give her a breather.”
“I’m right here,” Carina snaps, but her voice lacks bite.
Heidi gives me a look, then ducks out, letting the door click softly behind her.
It’s quiet for a second.
Carina adjusts her posture like she’s fine, like she hasn’t been scaring the shit out of me for the past half hour. She won’t meet my eyes, so I move closer, lowering onto the bench beside her.
“You fainted?”
She rolls her eyes. “I didn’t faint. I stood up too fast, skipped lunch, and Heidi decided to escalate.”
“Skipped lunch again,” I say quietly.
That gets me a glance—a sharp, annoyed one—but I hold firm.
“You’ve been pushing hard lately.”
“I always push hard, that’s not new.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “But you’re not on your own anymore. I can help.”
Her expression shutters at that.
“I didn’t ask you to come,” she says. “Heidi shouldn’t have called.”
“I’m glad she did.”
More silence.
Carina looks down at her hands. They’re folded neatly in her lap, but her thumb keeps brushing the curve of her belly like she’s trying to anchor herself.
“I love you.” I watch her for a beat. “And I worry the fuck about you, and I’m trying really hard to not be overbearing. But if you refuse to sit down and take a break at twenty-one weeks pregnant—”
“Twenty-one and a half,” she snaps. “And you think I don’t know my limits?”
“I think you ignore them.”
Her jaw tightens. “So you’re mad now?”
“I’m—” I stop myself. Run a hand over my face. “I’m scared.”
That’s worse somehow, because her eyes drop and the silence thickens.
“You should’ve called me.”
“I didn’t need to,” she says quietly.
Bullshit.
“You’re burning the candle at both ends, Carina.”
She flinches, like I’ve slapped her. “So quit lighting the fucking match, Reid.”
I breathe out. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No?” Her voice goes flat. “Because it sounds a lot like I’m not capable of this.”
God, my chest hurts.
“That’s not what I meant,” I repeat, softer now.
She blinks hard and looks away. I let the quiet sit for a beat, then I stand and offer my hand.
“Come on.”
She frowns. “Where?”
“Scan’s not for an hour. We’ll drive slowly. Grab a danish on the way.”
“I have stuff to do—”
“I know,” I say. “But this matters too, and you know it.”
“Reid—”
“You need air, Havoc. And sugar. And not to pass out in front of your boss.”
That earns a reluctant twitch of her mouth, almost a smile. And after a second, she slips her hand into mine.
I pull her gently to her feet and let her steady herself. She’s warm and tense and still a little pale, but her grip tightens on mine before we step into the hallway.
As we walk past reception, Jenny’s head turns. Her eyes bounce from our joined hands to my face, then to Carina’s stomach. She doesn’t say anything, just watches.
And I couldn’t give one singular flying fuck.
Carina doesn’t notice, or maybe she does, but she’s too tired to care.
I open the truck door for her, wait until she’s settled, then round the front and slide in beside her.
The cab fills with a quiet hum and the late afternoon light. I reach for her hand again on the console.
“Raspberry or blueberry?” I ask.
She leans her head back against the seat and closes her eyes. Her fingers flex tighter around mine. “Are those my options for the pastry, or are you taking bets on our child?”
I huff a laugh. “Both.”
“Mm. I’ve met your sweet tooth. This kid doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Right,” I say, nodding. “So definitely a raspberry.”
That gets one eye open. “You think it’s a girl?”
“I think it’s someone who already ignores medical advice and refuses to sit down when she’s dizzy,” I say dryly. “So, yeah. Girl feels like a safe bet.”
She snorts. “God help you.”
“Too late,” I murmur, squeezing her hand. “I’m already fucked.”
***
“Ready?”
Carina nods, and my thumb brushes hers.
The cold gel makes her flinch a little, but then the sonographer presses the wand to her belly, and the screen flickers to life.
And I forget how to fucking breathe.
Because there it is.
A baby.
Our baby.
Not some blob or a small bean-shaped blur, not a heartbeat on a black and white pulse strip.
They’re fully formed now, with tiny legs tucked in, little arms stretching lazily toward their face. With fingers. Toes. A round belly. A perfect spine like a constellation of light across the screen.
I stare, locked in place, and my hand tightens around Carina’s without thinking.
“There’s the heartbeat,” the tech murmurs, adjusting the probe slightly. An even pulse echoes from the machine. “Strong and regular. Looks good.”
Carina lets out a breath beside me, so soft I barely hear it. I glance down, but her eyes are fixed on the screen, and her expression is every shade of relief and wonder and fear layered in quiet stillness.
The sonographer moves the wand again. “You want to know the sex?”
Carina doesn’t answer, just tilts her head to smile softly at me. “You decide.”
My mouth is dry, my throat’s tight, but I manage a nod.
“Yes.”
The tech smiles. “It’s a girl.”
The words land soft. So soft, they don’t hit all at once.
A girl.
A second passes, then another.
Then it crashes, and my throat burns. I blink, heart suddenly hammering harder than it ever has in my whole damn life.
A girl.
I swallow and say it out loud, even though I barely recognize my own voice.
“A girl.”
“Yeah,” Carina whispers. She looks up at me now, eyes wide and wet and searching. “You okay?”
I don’t answer at first, I can’t. I’m watching the screen again, where our daughter’s curled up inside her, sucking one tiny thumb.
I think of the succulents in Carina’s window. A rainbow in the sky. The beehives and ivy. Carina on the couch, telling me she wants this. Carina on my lawn, telling me she loves me.
My hands shake.
“I’m gonna be a girl dad,” I say quietly. “Two girls… All mine.”
Carina squeezes my hand with a breath of laughter, but her voice is barely audible. “All yours.”
I shake my head, eyes still fixed to the screen, to the heartbeat, to the flicker of movement that’s her—our daughter.
“Fuck,” I breathe. “I hope I don’t screw it up.”
“You won’t.” Her fingers slide from mine and rest on my thigh instead, anchoring me. “She’s already so loved.”
I don’t say it, but I feel it in every cell.
So are you.
***
We end up on my couch.
Carina’s tucked against my side, feet pulled beneath her, my arm around her shoulders. One of the blankets from the living room basket is draped over her legs, and her hand is resting on the curve of her belly.
Gremlin jumps up beside her and curls right against her hip, making biscuits with her paws.
“God.” I shake my head. “She’s obsessed with you.”
Carina hums, eyes closed. “She’s clearly got excellent taste.”
“Debatable.”
That earns me a lazy smack to the chest.
We sit in the quiet for a while as the late sun spills through the windows, and Gremlin purrs. My hand rests along the top of Carina’s arm, thumb tracing the seam of her sleeve.
Eventually, she speaks.
“She’s gonna be stubborn.”
I huff a soft laugh. “No shit.”
“She’s going to try and do everything on her own.”
“So long as she knows she’s always got back up.”
There’s a pause, and I feel her sink into me deeper, exhaling hard.
“She’ll pretend she’s not scared even when she is.”
I let my fingers trace up over her shoulder to jaw, then tilt her chin up to me.
“She’s allowed to be.”
Her eyes soften, and she leans her forehead against my lips.
“She’ll also be loyal, and sharp, and funny as hell.”
I hum, leaning back to kiss the corner of her mouth. “So… me.”
She laughs against my lips, and I feel the sound more than I hear it.
“What do you think she’ll look like?” she murmurs after a beat.
I picture the flicker of her on the screen again. The little legs, the spine, the round belly. The way she sucked her thumb like she had all the time in the world.
“I hope she has your eyes,” I say. “And your laugh.”
Carina tilts her head up, eyes wide and shining. “She’ll definitely have your glare. God help the daycare teachers.”
“She’s gonna be a tiny threat,” I murmur. “We’ll have to teach her priorities.”
“Like?”
“Like… how to nap aggressively, throw a proper chirp, and spot a bullshit apology from a mile away.”
She smiles, snuggling against me. “Mm. All valid life skills.”
“And she’s gonna need a name.”
Carina exhales. “God. We are so fucked.”
I grin. “Hey, we’ve already agreed no naming her after professors, Ikea furniture, or literary heroines.”
“Which rules out half my list.”
“Exactly.”
She groans and drops her head to my shoulder. “Fine, but if you so much as suggest a hockey name, I’m walking.”
“I would never.”
“You would absolutely.”
“Okay,” I allow. “But only if she’s born on a game day.”
Her laughter shakes both of us, and my arm around her tightens. We drift off again, both of us in our own thoughts, both of us clinging to each other and imagining this beautiful girl we’re so close to meeting.
“Do you want me to stay?” She asks me so softly, I almost miss it.
I glance down. “Yeah.” A pause. “Do you want to?”
She doesn’t answer at first, just reaches for Gremlin’s ear and strokes it gently, her brow furrowed like she’s sorting through something in her head.
Finally, she nods. “Maybe… for longer than a night?”
My heart thuds faster, but I don’t push. Just shift a little, so I can see her better.
“You wanna move in with me, Havoc?”
“Maybe? If you want me—”
“I really fucking want you to.”
There’s another beat where she searches my eyes, and I pray to every single molecule in this universe she’ll say—
“Okay.”
She settles back against me, tucking herself into my side again, and I press a kiss to the top of her head and let my hand drift down, resting over the soft curve of her stomach.
My two girls.
My whole fucking world.