31. Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Elsa
I took an Uber to go to see my doctor for what the was called an anomaly ultrasound performed between the eighteenth and twenty-second week of pregnancy.
The anticipation and anxiety meant that I sat nervously in the waiting room of the H?pital Saint-Louis, my hands resting protectively on my growing belly.
Thierry and Dean had promised to be there, and I kept glancing at the entrance, waiting for them to arrive. Their support had been a comforting buffer against the uncertainty of my pregnancy and marriage.
I was about to text them in capital letters asking them where the hell they were, when my husband walked into the waiting room.
He looked hesitant, his eyes searching mine for some sign of acceptance. I felt a surge of both relief and anger. Relief because I was glad he cared enough to come, and anger because I wasn't ready to forgive him for everything that had happened. Still, I managed a small nod, acknowledging his presence.
"Thierry and Dean told you," I accused. I'd give them a piece of my mind as soon as I was done with my checkup; even though my heart wouldn't be in it because a large part of me was very happy to see Duncan.
"Yes, ma douce . But don't blame them for not being here. I convinced them to let me accompany you." He took a seat next to me. "How are you feeling? How's our baby doing?"
He looked so forlorn that my heart melted, but only just a little, enough to not kick him out of the hospital. The rest of my heart, I decided petulantly, was hard as stone. "I'm angry with you. The baby is fine," I muttered, looking away from him.
He smelled so good, and I wanted to lean into him. He'd been such a great husband for a minute and then he'd ruined it; broken me, broken us.
"May I stay, Elsa?"
The uncertainty in my usually confident husband grated on my nerves. I didn’t want him to beg, but I didn’t know how to fix things. I couldn’t unbreak my heart.
The baby kicked, and I gasped.
"What happened? Are you okay?" The panic in his voice was almost sweet—it meant he cared about me and our baby.
I smiled tentatively at him. "She's kicking," I whispered. Because he looked so bereft, I took his left hand and placed it on my belly so he, too, could feel our baby. Our daughter had just started to make her presence known. A few weeks ago, it was just flutters, but now there were solid kicks that went right to my bladder.
He put his second hand on my stomach as well, and the awe on his face made me want to tell him, " It's all forgiven. Come home, be with us. "
"Oh, baby," he breathed reverently, stroking my stomach, soothing my baby and me. And arousing me as well.
I understood that I was hormonal, and Duncan was my first and only lover, so when I thought about sex, I invariably thought about him. I was also madly in love with him and sometimes that emotion was way stronger than anger and bitterness.
"This is the most amazing feeling, isn’t it?" His face was bright; lit up despite the bags under his eyes.
I looked at him, my emotions a tumultuous storm. "Yes," I admitted quietly, and then, because I couldn't stand it any longer, I pushed his hands away, ignoring the pain and hurt that transformed his face from happy to sad.
"I am so sorry, ma douce ." He put his hands back on my stomach. "But don't ask me to not touch you; touch our baby. Please ."
Tears threatened to fill my eyes, but I didn't want to cry in front of him or for him. I'd cried enough.
"You can stay, but don't think everything is okay. ?a va ?"
He gave me a knowing nod. " ?a va, ma chérie . I just want to be here for you and the baby. I don't want to be anywhere else but here."
His sincerity was going to be my undoing—I just knew it.
I wasn’t much of a fighter by nature or personality. If I were, I’d have stood up to my father years ago. I preferred to keep things conflict-free and avoid drama. I’d done a poor job of that since Papa started hinting at me marrying his heir apparent. I’d made plenty of mistakes—the first being losing my virginity to Duncan without telling him who I really was, which had put his life in danger. Then I got pregnant. There was never a question of keeping the baby, with or without a father—but when I had the chance to make us a proper family, I took it. Maybe I should’ve checked with Duncan to make sure he understood I wanted a real marriage. Looking back on all the conversations I never had with him, I realized just how much I’d messed up too.
Thankfully, before the conversation could push me to the point of ugly crying, a nurse called my name.
The drill was the same as it had been for previous visits. Duncan was led to the ultrasound room while I changed, peed in a cup, and let them draw my blood.
Duncan was standing by the gurney when the nurse led me into the examination room.
At twenty weeks, I was getting bigger and ungainly. It wasn't going to be easy to get on that gurney with any grace.
"Let me, ma douce. " Duncan kept his tone gentle. He picked me up and, just like I weighed nothing, deposited me on the gurney. I heard the nurse sigh. Well, hell, join the club, girlfriend , and you're not even hormonal and don't know how good this man is with his hands.
He helped me lie down and shift my ass, so I was situated properly for the doctor. He'd seen what we'd done last time, which I appreciated. I didn't mind at all that his hands were all over me. It felt nice to be touched by him; it felt nice that he was here and he cared enough to be here.
The doctor came in, and she grinned at us. "My favorite parents. How are you both doing, and how do you feel, Elsa?"
"My back hurts," I told her.
"What? Why didn't you say something?" Duncan exclaimed, turning to my doctor. "Her back hurts. Do something!"
"Well, that's what happens when you get pregnant; your body becomes a bit of a runaway train." Dr. Lévy didn't seem fazed at all by Duncan's tantrum.
"There must be something—" Duncan protested, but I cut him off by taking his hand in mine.
"It's fine."
He looked at me like I was the most precious thing in the world. "Oh, baby. I hate that you're hurting."
"I’m afraid, it's going to get a lot worse," Dr. Lévy interjected humorously.
Duncan looked at her in horror.
"Childbirth," she remarked and laughed softly.
"Fuck!" Duncan kissed my forehead. "I'll be there with you. I promise. And we'll get you drugs. All the drugs. Okay? Emilia said something about an epidural and—"
" Non . I don't want epidural." He looked so stricken that I stroked his hand. "Duncan, it's going to be alright."
The doctor applied the cool gel and began the scan, the familiar black-and-white images appeared on the screen. As she moved the transducer over my stomach, she explained each part of the scan. "We're checking the baby's growth, the organs, the spine, and the brain. We'll also look for any markers for Down's syndrome or other conditions."
I held my breath, my eyes glued to the screen. The flickering images were both fascinating and terrifying. The doctor measured the baby's head, checked the heart chambers, and examined the limbs.
"Everything looks good," Dr. Lévy said reassuringly. "The baby's growth is normal, and there are no markers for Down's syndrome or any other conditions based on your initial blood tests. We'll get your final reports in a couple of days but I don't think we'll have any issues."
I exhaled a long, relieved breath, feeling some of the tension drain from my body. I squeezed Duncan's hand. I looked over at him, and to my surprise, tears were streaming down his face.
"She's okay," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Our baby is okay."
Seeing him cry, his raw vulnerability laid bare, softened my heart even more. Despite the hurt and betrayal, I still loved him, and part of me wanted to believe we could find a way through this.
Dr. Lévy handed us the ultrasound pictures, and I stared at the tiny, perfect profile of our daughter.
"She's beautiful," I murmured, tears of my own welling up.
"She certainly is," Dr. Lévy smiled. "Well, if you don't have any questions, I'm going to let you get dressed. I'll see you next month."
Once the doctor left, Duncan gently stroked my cheek as we both looked at the ultrasound picture. "Thank you for letting me be here, Elsa. I know I don't deserve it, but I'm so grateful."
I looked at him, my heart torn between pain and hope. "This doesn't mean I've forgiven you, Duncan." All lies! "However, I'm glad you're here today." All true!
He kissed my hand, his eyes full of regret. "I understand. And I am sorry, ma douce . I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."
I wasn't sure how he could do that. I didn't trust him anymore, and that was something you couldn't rebuild, could you? I wanted to. I didn't want to lose my husband or my family even before we became one.
He helped me get off the gurney.
The nurse had brought my clothes and laid them on a chair. I looked at them, and Duncan's jaw tightened. "I've seen you naked."
"I know," I grumbled. He had, and it seemed petty to ask the father of my child to leave the room so I could get dressed, especially since he could help me lace up my shoes, which had been an interesting experience this morning.
He looked at my naked stomach like he'd never seen it before and marveled. Well, he hadn’t seen it in a few weeks and pregnancy meant my body of changing rapidly and all the time.
"May I?" he requested, his eyes blazing with intensity.
The air got sucked out of the room. I nodded shakily. He put a hand on my naked stomach, and I bit back a moan.
"You're so beautiful."
He dropped to his knees, and I almost pushed him away until I saw him kiss my stomach. "Hey, sweetheart, this is your Papa. I already love you so much. Love you as much as I love your Mamman."
I stilled, my eyes glassy. Did he just say he loved me? Love ? Was this real, or was he using this to get me back? If he'd said this a few weeks ago, I'd have believed him, no questions asked. Though his behavior in his office with that American friend of his would have made it as suspect as it was right now.
He lingered for a long moment and then stood up. He looked at my breasts and groaned. "They've become darker." He put a finger on a nipple, and my whole body swayed, not away from him, but closer to him.
"Stop, Duncan," I said softly because I was having trouble speaking.
"I miss you." He leaned his head and took a nipple in his mouth. I gasped, my legs going weak. But his arms were around me, holding me. He then kissed the nipple and suckled the other and kissed it, too.
He straightened. " Alors, ma belle ."
That he called me beautiful in French tugged at my heartstrings. Was I complicating my life by not forgiving him? No, I thought sadly. This wasn't about forgiveness. He’d broken something between us, and even though I loved him, I didn’t know how to be with him anymore. My feelings for him mirrored what I felt for my father—I loved him too, but I was always on guard, just like Mamman had been. I didn’t want a marriage like that. I’d seen the damage it caused, how hard it was for her to open up to anyone again. She had lovers, but no one serious, never letting anyone fully into her heart. Was that going to be my fate as well?