Chapter Eighteen
Trenton
“I don’t know this one.” I stared at the sonogram picture sitting on the nightstand, afraid it might disappear if I looked away.
Camille was lying in bed, the comforter pulled up to her underarms, the hospital bracelet still around her wrist as if it were the final mark of proof. She’d changed into my favorite T-shirt, wearing a simple black headband to push her bangs away from her face. She seemed calm, but I knew better. I could see the nerves simmering just under the surface by the way she fidgeted with the edge of the blanket.
“I want to scream it from the rooftops.” I felt manic, like the same electric buzz firing all over my body after a brawl. A Viking-like urge to raise my shaky fists in the air, saluting the sky while bellowing a victory roar—or something like that. It was animalistic, instinctual, and nearly impossible to contain. But Camille’s eyes softened, pulling me back, reminding me of the quiet strength she needed; a lighthouse, not the frat house cokehead with a megaphone. The next best thing would be to call everyone we knew, but there was just enough fear to keep me from reaching for my cell.
“But we’ve got time. We can keep this news just for us until it feels right to share,” I said softly, brushing a thumb over her knuckles.
She sighed, a ghost of a smile touching her lips, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach. “It’s so bizarre to think our baby is in there. Growing, sleeping, comfy, and warm. I want to finally be able to say it, but…” She trailed off, her voice catching in her throat.
“The but seems like it’s always there for us, huh?” I moved to sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle her too much. “We’ve earned that hesitation. Hell, we’re the MVPs in the waiting game. But we’ve also been so damn patient for this. We’ve fought for that tiny, beautiful bean inside of you like it was the last PlayStation on Black Friday.”
“Fought,” she repeated like the word tasted bittersweet on her lips. “After years of trying and failing… I know you said to just focus on the happy, and I want to. But I feel like the moment I stop worrying and let myself feel joy, something’s going to go wrong.”
I nodded. I wanted to be positive, but considering what we’d been through, it was unrealistic to expect that from her… or from myself. “I can’t argue with that. We’re finally here where we’ve always wanted to be, but we’ve been in this cycle of hope and disappointment for so long that it feels like the second we even think about celebrating, it’ll vanish. Like the universe is sitting there, rubbing its hands together, just waiting to yank the rug out from under us.”
Her eyes flickered up to mine, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the comforter. “Thank you. It makes me feel less crazy that you understand. I’ve prayed so often for this, and I have to remind myself to change it from asking for a baby to asking to keep this one safe.”
“Yeah, it’s the ultimate parent package deal—wrapped in equal parts love and sheer, gut-twisting terror. It’s like the unwritten contract we all sign when we bring a mini-me into the world: constant anxiety included, no refunds. But it’s the trade you make to raise a kid, to watch them grow, hit those little milestones, see that goofy pride on their face when they finally nail something. That’s the kicker, right? Love is precious because it’s vulnerable to a gazillion variables—one wrong move, and poof , it’s all gone. Keeps you on your toes, keeps things… I mean how much can someone mean to you if they’re replaceable?”
She looked down at her middle, something I’d never get tired of. “I know I can’t shield this baby from everything that might go wrong, but if I’m lucky enough to meet her… or him… every breath, every laugh, every hug will be worth the risk a thousand times over.”
That hope, that tiny flash of light, was there in her voice, but it was fragile. And yet, I couldn’t help but feel it, too.
“We’ve gotten to this point, and it’s further than we’ve been before. That alone is worth celebrating. Maybe we just take it one win at a time?”
“I know, I just… I’m so conflicted and I need you to decide for me. I have been waiting to say the words to someone for so long, but I can’t help feeling like we’re tempting fate if we tell everyone too soon. What if we jinx it?”
I took her hand in mine, feeling the warmth of her skin, the pulse of life between our fingers, knowing there was an extra beat in there somewhere. “I get it.”
She closed her eyes for a second, as if trying to push the worry away. “So, we wait? Because, Trent… if we tell everyone and something happens, we’ll have to tell them that, too. And those looks I can’t stand, the ones that have made all of this so hard. This time they’ll be condolences on top of pity, and I can’t… I don’t know that I’ll survive it.”
I swallowed hard. Nothing terrified me more than when Camille talked like that. “Then we’re not telling anyone until there is little to no possibility of having to break that news. We’ll know when that is.”
Camille’s eyes opened, irritated and red from unshed tears. “But we can still be excited, Trent. I want us to talk about baby names and nursery themes and all the things I was too afraid to let myself think about before.”
I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Then let’s do that. In our own way, at our own pace. We keep him close, keep him safe.”
She placed her hand on her stomach again, looking down at her middle. “Him? What if she’s a her?”
I fell onto my back against the mattress. “God help the men of this world. I don’t know how my brothers do it.”
“You’ve been fine with Olive.”
“Oh, shit, Olive.” I sat up. “You think she’ll be happy? She was so worried about the Madison thing. You think she’ll feel replaced? What?” I asked, noticing Camille’s expression.
“Madison. I’d almost forgotten about her.”
I closed my eyes. Fuck. My. Life. “I was motivated to erase that threat before. I’ll nuke anything that even causes you a mild inconvenience, baby doll. You have absolutely zero to worry about. I promise.”
Camille’s fingers tightened around mine. “Do you think it’s too early to get a crib?” Her nose wrinkled and she tucked her chin, the corners of her mouth pulled back showing most of her teeth, silently pleading with me not to think the suggestion was as cringey as she did.
I winced, one eye closed tight. “Maybe just a little.”
She laughed out loud, from deep in her chest the way she used to when we were just dating. I’d almost forgotten the sound. “Baby steps. Literally.”
Camille leaned over to hug me, still laughing against my chest, and it felt like a victory. Small, maybe, but after everything we’d been through, any battle won felt like we’d won a war.
My cellphone pinged, the display lighting up to reveal Taylor’s name. I read the text, looking up at Camille. “He’s asking if you’re out of surgery. They have to be worried sick. I wouldn’t let them come so they’d focus on what they came here to do. Made everyone else stay home to watch the kids, and I fucking forgot to keep them updated.”
“Tell them my labs came back funky so we postponed, but it’s nothing serious.”
“They’ll want to come over and check on you.”
She shrugged. “Then let them.”
I texted him back, knowing he’d spread the word, and then shot a text to Camille’s family’s group chat. We’d have a house full within the hour.
“I texted the Camlin chat, too. I’d better set out some food or something.”
Camille shook her head. “We’ll be reheating casseroles for weeks.”
I blinked, then set down my phone. “True.”
Twenty minutes or so later, the soft knocking parade began. Camille’s mom was the first to show, making a beeline for the bedroom to nervously fuss over her daughter in typical Susan Camlin style. Then Taylor and Falyn arrived, herding their kids inside with Dad close behind, followed by Travis and Abby. Eventually, Camille’s brothers Chase and Clark trickled in with their wives, and Coby with his girlfriend, Holly.
Camille was spot-on with her predictions: four casseroles, two Tupperware tubs of sandwiches cut into dainty little triangles, and enough finger foods to supply a small army. If this family knew how to do one thing well, it was to show up with a feast at a moment’s notice.
They crowded into the bedroom, staring down at us while I sat next to Camille. She was trying her best to relax under the comforter, her knees propped by a pillow beneath. The way she was gripping my hand, I knew we were about to launch into the family briefing. Couldn’t really blame her for the nerves—giving updates on canceled surgeries and weird lab results was more SNL cold open than the heart-melting pregnancy announcement we’d imagined. But there we stood, front and center, getting eyeballed like zoo exhibits, bracing ourselves for the inevitable third degree.
Camille drew in a slow breath, her gaze dropping for a moment before she looked back up. “So, here’s the thing. The doctors saw something that wasn’t ideal for surgery in my labs. Just a few changes in my supplements, and I’ll need to gain some weight. It’s really not a big deal.”
Coby, always the first to jump on anything remotely concerning, crossed his arms and smirked. “Yeah, because canceling a surgery is the definition of nothing to worry about .”
I gave him a reassuring smile, which probably looked more like a grimace. “It was just some weird lab results, guys. Nothing to freak out about. Doc wants to be extra cautious, run a few more tests. No biggie.”
Susan wasn’t convinced. “I’m not trying to make a fuss,” she said, clearly about to make a fuss, “but doctors downplay things sometimes. Just makes me nervous.”
Chase’s wife, Shannon, nudged Susan gently. “If they said it’s okay, maybe we should trust that. I mean, they’re the experts, right?”
Clark chimed in from across the room, giving one of those shrugs that made you want to shake him. “Yeah, but doctors also speak in a weird code where you’re fine actually means we’re mildly panicking, but we’re not gonna tell you that .”
Anna, Clark’s wife, was shifting uncomfortably on the chair in the corner, one hand on her belly, her face full of concern but, as always, determined to stay positive. “If they’re running more tests, that’s good, right? It means they’re just being cautious.”
The twins, Jessica and James, were watching us with wide eyes. Travis’s wife, Abby, smiled at them, probably thinking of a way to spin this into a life lesson. “I’m just glad they’re checking everything. It’s probably nothing, but it’s comforting to know they’re not just brushing it off.”
Camille forced a smile, clearly trying to keep things light for everyone else’s sake. “It is. I just don’t want you guys stressing over something completely normal.”
Taylor, carrying Hollis on his back while Hadley fidgeted beside him, raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think a cease fire on the day of surgery should be taken more seriously? I would, if it was Falyn. I don’t wanna be an alarmist, but nothing about that screams normal.”
“I just think they—” Camille began. She opened her mouth to say more but couldn’t find the words.
“Hey, I get that you’re all on edge,” I cut in, sensing Camille might be feeling a bit cornered. “But honestly, it’s nothing serious. Just a couple of blips on the radar. Doc thinks it could be something as basic as dehydration or stress.”
Coby shot me a look. “So, basically, a couple of pre-midnight cocktails and an unexpected bill, and suddenly we’re canceling surgeries now? I’m gonna keep that in mind.”
Susan glared at him. “It’s not funny, Coby.”
He held up his hands. “I’m just saying, if they’re not concerned, maybe we’re blowing it out of proportion.”
Camille’s expression brightened into an appreciative grin. “Exactly. They just want to be thorough, so we don’t have to worry down the line.”
Two lines formed between Susan’s brows. “Worry about what? They weren’t specific?”
Camille shrugged. “No,” she said with a weak chuckle.
I knew she was thinking the same thing I was; we should’ve gotten our story straight before inviting everyone over.
Anna nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe this is just a chance to pause, you know? To pray for which direction God wants you to follow. It could be a sign.”
Shannon raised the glass of wine she’d poured before entering the bedroom. “To divine delay for peace of mind.”
Camille raised her ice water with a little laugh. “I’ll drink to that.”
Jessica and James tugged on Abby’s arm, whispering something, and she leaned down, nodding along with their excited little voices. “They want to know if you’ll still be up for game night this weekend,” she said, looking at Camille.
Camille’s eyes sparkled. “Absolutely! Surgery or no surgery, I wouldn’t miss that. You’d have to trap me in a giant bubble and roll me all the way to Canada to keep me away!”
Travis laughed, ruffling Jessica’s hair. “See? Aunt Camille isn’t going anywhere.”
Taylor leaned over, smirking at Camille. “Just don’t use this as an excuse to cheat, all right? I know how you get.”
Camille laughed, rolling her eyes. “No promises. I might need a handicap this time.”
Falyn crossed her arms as she watched their kids play in the corner and muttered, “If you’re on her team, I’d say she already has a handicap.”
Taylor shot me a pleading look, his face tense, and I quickly jumped in with a laugh. “Oh, look at that—Falyn’s got jokes tonight. Just trying to keep you humble, Taylor.” I flashed a grin around the room. “Guess that’s what good teammates are for, right?”
A few chuckles broke the tension, and the family’s attention drifted back to Camille, sparing Taylor any extra glances.
Olive giggled from her spot by Dad. “Did you hear that, Cami? You’re so good everyone thinks you cheat.”
“I guess so,” Camille said, appreciative of the defense.
Olive shrugged one shoulder. “I mean, let’s face it. The only time Cami would have to cheat to win on game night is playing poker against Abby.”
Dad chuckled, giving her a pat on the shoulder. “You said it, Olive.”
I had to hand it to Olive. The kid picked up on things most adults missed, catching those subtle shifts in conversation like a pro. She didn’t need to say much—just a quick, casual comment that gave me the perfect opening to steer everyone away from Falyn’s dig. She was sharp, way beyond her years, and it felt like having a mini-partner-in-crime who just knew when to step in. Watching her in moments like that, I felt this odd blend of appreciation and anticipation. Grateful to have her as my sidekick and eager to see the person she was becoming. She was going places, and I had a front-row seat.
Olive caught Falyn’s gaze, and they exchanged a subtle smile. Falyn lingered for a moment, as if savoring it without wanting to hold on too tightly. There was something in her expression—a quiet admiration for Olive’s cleverness, like she recognized that same spark I did. For a split second, I wondered about the connection between them, what unspoken bond floated in the air. Watching them connect like that felt almost like spotting someone else cheering for my favorite team. Maybe Falyn just respected any kid sharp enough to keep the grown-ups on their toes.
Coby clapped his hands together, scanning the room with an expectant look. “Welp, we can all agree on one thing. Camille’s had a long day, and here we are, camped out in her bedroom, staring her down like a bunch of vultures. We delivered the casseroles, grilled her for answers—mission accomplished. Let’s give her some peace before we get uninvited from her famous Secret Santa party.”
Susan nodded, her face softening. “Not a bad idea, son. They’ll let us know if anything changes.”
Camille looked to me, guilt weighing down her features.
I slapped my hand on my thigh. “You bet, Susan. Once we have something certain to share, we’ll alert the town crier.”
The adults smiled and Olive joined right in, smirking like the sarcastic child I’d known and loved since she was five. The rest of the kids looked around like they’d just missed the punchline. Jessica was squinting, clearly trying to figure out the deeper meaning, while Hollis gave this half-hearted chuckle, as if laughing would somehow unlock the secret.
Hadley, completely baffled, tugged on Abby’s sleeve and not-quite whispered, “What’s a town crier?”
Abby just gave her a gentle pat. “I’ll explain later,” she said quietly.
Jessica walked over to Camille and put her hand on hers. “Does this mean you’ll be okay?”
“It means I’m going to be just fine. I promise.”
Holly grinned from her corner of the room. “Well, now that we have that settled, I know whose team I’m joining next time.”
The room erupted in laughter, a sound that filled every corner and settled like a warm blanket over the evening. Just like that, the tension that had been buzzing under the surface finally melted away, replaced by easy smiles and the comfort that only comes from family. Camille looked around, her eyes glistening, taking in the people who’d been by her side through every up and down. The little details—Dad’s chuckle, Olive’s grin, even Coby’s obnoxious clapping any time he laughed too hard—all combined into a moment that felt oddly sacred.
Camille looked at me, a silent thank you in her eyes that I’d helped her keep our secret while not quite lying to the two messy, chaotic groups of strangers that were now one family because we fell in love. For once , I thought, it’s all gonna be all right . And for the first time in a long time, I believed it.