23. Chloe
Chapter 23
Chloe
F or several days, I’d spent the time between vomiting fits reading everything I could find about pregnancy. This child did not fuck around. Most food was repulsive, and sometimes even water made me gag. Celine assured me this was a good sign, that there really was a growing baby in there. I was dubious. It seemed I was possessed by a demon or maybe one of those viruses that turned people into zombies.
And I was no closer to figuring out what was going on in the forest. I’d been avoiding Gus since our excursion last week. We’d called the FBI, and they had come up to investigate, finding dozens of cameras and other recording equipment in my woods.
The unknowns and the concerns were making me feel even sicker. Had we been in danger out there? Were my employees in danger? How was this not over yet? The FBI had been investigating for two years. One would think that they’d have caught the bad guys already.
Not to mention I’d met with my partners this morning, and there had been talk of a potential acquisition in Alabama. The last thing I wanted to do was fly down there in August, but I took notes and tried to hold back the vomit until I was off the Zoom call.
Given how things were going in Lovewell, I wasn’t leaving anytime soon. And since Hebert Timber belonged to me alone, that meant I had to balance it against my portfolio of other holdings and projects. A few months ago, I was certain it was totally doable, but that was before I was forty and pregnant.
Now I wanted to curl up on the wicker chair on my screened-in porch and stare at the lake while reading one of Celine’s spicy books.
Instead, I needed to head to Orono, or I was going to be late. I grabbed my phone and keys and slipped on a pair of sneakers, then headed toward the door.
After a lot of research, I’d found a wonderful ob-gyn. Orono wasn’t exactly close, but the drive was manageable, and the town was a healthy distance from both Lovewell and Heartsborough. The last thing I needed were rumors spreading like wildfire.
The facility was tranquil and clean, with pamphlets displayed everywhere, formula samples galore, and an abundance of information about car seat safety. According to the reviews I’d found, the birth outcomes were excellent, and they had a mix of midwives and doctors.
The waiting room was filled with happy couples and women with cute bellies, these occupants making me acutely aware that I was alone.
Celine would have come with me, but it was summer, and she had a lot on her plate with the girls and Julian. Plus, this was just routine. I’d handled a lot harder things alone.
I rubbed my temples and scrolled through emails while I waited. I knew I was an ass for not telling Gus, but when I’d scheduled the next few months’ worth of appointments, blood work, and tests, I’d only sent him calendar invites for the important ones. Like the ten-week ultrasound next month. That was the kind of thing he could come to.
Although it felt shitty, I told myself it was for self-preservation. I could only deal with so much of his presence. Not only because he was becoming more and more irresistible, but because I was doing my best to avoid discussing the future. I couldn’t keep this up forever, but I needed some space from him to decide where and how I was going to have this baby.
The minute a woman became pregnant, she was inundated with crucial decisions and important things to consider. Prenatal vitamins, doctors, delivery plans, activity levels. The complicated relationship with my baby daddy and the possibility that I’d have to travel across the country shortly were pretty far down the list.
We’d gotten along so well lately, and I didn’t have the energy to fight him over our child. I just needed to work and gestate and minimize all the other drama.
And I only had so much time between running a timber company and puking my guts up every few hours. If only my situation were simple. I wasn’t doing this alone, exactly, but I also wasn’t doing it with a husband or a long-term partner. What were the rules here? And how the hell would I make it right for my child?
I was lost in a hurricane of questions when the door to the waiting room opened and there he was.
Bearded, handsome, and wearing his usual plaid and scowl.
He walked right over to me, bent at the waist to kiss the crown of my head, and took the seat next to me.
“What are you doing here?”
“I heard you had a doctor’s appointment.”
“How?”
“Karl saw Rachel in the coffee shop, who mentioned it to Bob, who told my mom, who called me.” His eyes narrowed with disapproval.
“It’s not a real appointment,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “It’s only blood work.”
His nostrils flared as he assessed me. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here. I said I’d be here for every single minute.” He angled in and lowered his voice. “I told you. My wife will not do this alone.”
“Ex-wife,” I hissed, my blood pressure spiking. This, right here, was why I didn’t want him at every appointment. Smothering me and being all territorial. We needed distance and healthy boundaries, not whatever the forehead kisses and the thigh squeezes and the showing up uninvited situation was.
He shrugged. “Semantics. It’s the thought that counts.”
“That’s for gifts, not legally binding unions,” I snapped.
He squeezed my thigh again. His hand should not be there, like he owned my body or had some kind of claim to me. “I’m good with it, Dragonfly.”
“I’m not.” I picked his hand up and put it on the armrest of his chair.
“Ms. LeBlanc,” a nurse said from the doorway.
We both stood, and with a hand on the small of my back, he led me down the long hallway. With every step, I grew more annoyed.
The nurse weighed me, sent me to the bathroom for a urine sample, and quizzed me on my cycles and my diet. Then she gave me information about vitamins and supplements.
Totally standard. Totally boring.
Once she left the room, I turned to Gus. “See? You didn’t need to be here. I don’t need a chaperone to pee in a cup.”
He crossed his arms and sat back in the plastic chair against the wall. “I’m not missing anything. I’ll sit here quietly, and I won’t get in the way, but you can’t push me away, Chloe.”
He stared at me, and I stared right back, a mix of excitement, panic, and sheer exhaustion swirling within me. He wasn’t backing down. Bastard.
Our stare-down was interrupted by the doctor, who entered with a smile. She was middle-aged with a no-nonsense bob and pearl stud earrings. She had an air of competence around her that immediately put me at ease.
“So we’re going to listen to the heartbeat,” she said, pulling out a small machine that looked like a toy. “Lean back.”
I reclined on the table and pulled up my shirt, exposing my stomach, which did not look remotely pregnant.
She waved the wand over me, and weird scratchy noises filled the room.
“Hmm.” She moved the wand around. Adjusted the machine a few times, frowning. “Okay. I’m not able to get a heartbeat.”
I froze in panic and immediately looked to Gus.
He stepped closer, his brows pulled low in concern. “Is that a problem?”
She shook her head. “It’s relatively normal for the doppler not to pick it up this early.”
“And that thing looks like it’s made by Fisher Price,” Gus groused, nodding at the contraption.
My throat went tight, making it hard to breathe. This couldn’t be happening. God, what if something was wrong? My hands were shaking, and I could barely form words. I was forty. Ancient. And God, how much wine have I had over the years? Not to mention the lack of sleep and healthy food. I’d treated my body terribly. Of course it was failing at its most important job yet. Excellent, I was already failing at motherhood.
Gus put his hand on my shoulder. “What do we do next, doc?” he asked, his voice thick.
“We can either wait until your scheduled ten-week ultrasound, or I can see if the tech is free now to check.”
“Yes. Now,” I demanded.
Silently nodding in agreement, Gus squeezed my shoulder.
“Okay,” she said, setting the doppler on the counter. “Just give me a moment.” With that, she stepped out into the hall.
Tears stung my eyes as I attempted to breathe, still lying back with my shirt pulled up over my stomach.
Pulling me close, Gus kissed the top of my head. “It’s gonna be okay.”
I sniffled, clinging to his flannel shirt. “What if—”
“Shh.” He kissed my head again, the gesture soothing me more than I’d like. “Listen to me,” he said in a low, strong voice. “This is an exciting day. We get to meet our baby a few weeks early. I can’t wait to see if he or she already knows how to scowl. Or has a head of red hair.”
I swatted at his arm. “An eight-week fetus does not have hair.”
“Our child will be exceptional,” he said, hugging me tight. “Just you wait and see.”
After what felt like an hour later, we were led to an ultrasound room. My legs shook as the tech gave me what looked like a roll of paper towels and told me to strip from the waist down.
Holding it up in front of me, I eyed Gus.
“You want me to leave?” he asked, heading for the door.
I shook my head. He’d seen it all before. Who cared if he saw the cellulite on my ass? I was beyond vanity. I needed to see this baby now.
When the tech returned, she sat at my side. “Okay. We need to do this vaginally.”
She held up a massive wand covered in jelly.
Jesus , way to jump into the deep end.
“Hold still, Ms. LeBlanc, and take a deep breath.”
Gus was on his feet, holding my hand, the connection feeling too damn right. Thank God he was here.
What a bitch I’d been, not telling him about the appointment. What was I trying to prove?
While we waited for her to get things going, I was flooded with shame. He wanted to be here, and I had absolutely no right to keep him away. And there’s no way I’d have been able to manage this alone.
I’d held a grudge for twenty years, and even if my heart never healed, this child did not deserve to be born into that.
As hard as it would be, I had thirty-two weeks to figure out how to forgive him. I was determined to do it, for the sake of our child.
The black and white screen was a mess of shadows and lines, making it hard to orient myself.
“Here we are,” the tech said.
There, on the screen, was a tiny bean. Our baby.
“Oh my God.” I was crying again, the tears coming fast, but this time for a totally different reason.
“See this flickering?” she said, pointing to the screen. “That is the heartbeat.”
I sucked in a long breath to quell my tears. It was unbelievable. The head and the spine and the arm buds and that constant flicker of its beating heart.
Gus leaned down and kissed my cheek, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen to acknowledge him.
“One hundred fifty beats per minute. A very strong heartbeat.”
“Look at that,” Gus murmured in my ear. “Our little lumberjack, growing strong in there.”
The tears were back—happy ones this time—dripping down my face. Wow, makeup had really been a waste today.
“We can’t see a lot right now, but I’m going to take some measurements, okay?”
We nodded eagerly. Even at eight weeks, only the size of a kidney bean, this baby was the most precious, beautiful thing I’d ever seen in my life.
“We made this,” he said, squeezing my hand.
“We did.”
“I’m so proud of you, Dragonfly.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You’ve done everything. You just don’t realize it.”
After the appointment, we sat in his truck, admiring the photos of our little bean.
“We should hit the natural food store while we’re here,” he said. “You can follow me in your car. I read that candied ginger can help with nausea.”
Shifting in my seat, I frowned. “You read? Where?”
He glared at me. “In a book. I am literate, Dragonfly.”
“You’re reading baby books?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re having a baby. I gotta do my research. You expect me to go in cold?”
My heart tripped over itself. What the hell? Men didn’t read baby books. Did they? And Gus ? The thought of him sitting on his porch reading about fetal development made me smile. It also made me feel a bit guilty. I was very behind on my own research.
“How many have you read?” I pushed.
He shrugged. “Not many.”
“Tell me.” I whacked his arm lightly.
Head dipped, he murmured, “Seven.”
“Gus!” I shouted. “You’ve only known about the baby for three weeks.”
“Two were on audio.”
I tipped my head back and huffed. “They count! It’s all reading.”
“I have a lot to learn, okay?” he said, looking sheepish. “And it’s not just pregnancy books. I picked up a few about newborns, and infant brain development too. Oh, and one about sleep. Sleep is huge for babies. Did you know if you exclusively breastfeed, you should supplement with vitamin D?”
What? Between the heartbeat scare, seeing my baby for the first time, and hearing Gus talk about the swaddling technique, my head was spinning.
I was also a bit turned on, not that I was willing to admit it.