Chapter 44
~Elle~
Lub dub. Lub dub. The rhythmic gallop fills the room, echoing as the probe coated with cool gel is pressed against my abdomen. I’m transfixed, moved to tears by the sound—it’s music to me. On the monitor, the tiny heart flickers steadily, a sight beyond words.
“Everything looks good, Elle. Your baby is healthy and growing well,” my doctor reassures.
“Now that the vomiting has eased, your weight gain is on track. Just try to keep your stress down—we need your blood pressure steady.” She offers me a tissue, and I wipe the cool gel from my skin, still overwhelmed by the miracle before me.
“Of course, I understand.” Doctor Phillips, my obstetrician, steps out to give me a moment to dress. When she returns a few minutes later, she hands me copies of the ultrasound images. I trace the photograph with my fingertips, overwhelmed by love.
“There are Lamaze classes at the Women’s Center,” she says, pausing as she writes out my prenatal prescription. “I think you should join. They’ll help prepare you for labor.”
I keep my eyes down, avoiding her gaze, already knowing where this conversation is headed. “Do you have someone to attend with you? Have you reconsidered telling the baby’s father?”
“I’m not going to force him to be part of our lives. A friend might come with me to Lamaze classes.” “Okay. I’ll see you in two weeks for your next antenatal check. Remember—limit the stress.” I nodded, leaving the office without another word.
God, the thought of telling Dominic about the pregnancy makes my heart race. I can’t predict his reaction. In our marriage, he never once voiced unhappiness—until that night. His disappointment shattered me. He made me feel disposable, unwanted, for the first time.
How can I trust him again? How can I believe he wants this baby? Doubt gnaws at me, even about the night he whispered he wanted a child with me. As the elevator doors close, sealing me in silence, I remember that night…months ago.
We had just made love, and now lay wrapped in the afterglow.
Breathless, my limbs weak, my heart still racing from the intoxicating release.
Dominic lay beside me, mirroring my exhaustion.
When we finally stirred, he turned toward me, his fingers tracing gentle circles across my abdomen.
The feather-light touch sent butterflies through me.
Propped on his elbow, his face hovered close, his expression unreadable.
He paused, palm resting protectively on my stomach, before breaking the silence.
“Angel… do you think we just made a baby?”
The question startled me, pulling a nervous laugh from my lips.
Yet beneath it was a flicker of joy. “I… don’t know,” I admitted softly, then braved the question that lingered.
“Dominic, do you want children?” I forced myself to meet his gaze, holding my breath in anticipation.
His eyes shifted from my stomach to mine, intense and unwavering.
Then his lips curved into that familiar, lopsided smile.
Relief washed over me as I exhaled. He leaned closer, whispering just before his kiss claimed me.
“Yes, Angel. Yes.”
Moments later, mischief danced in his eyes. “To be sure it sticks,” he teased between playful nibbles, “we’ll need plenty of practice.” I laughed, wondering how much more he thought we needed—we’d been insatiable, sneaking moments together whenever we could.
Just yesterday, Jimmy had burst into Dominic’s office after hearing a crash, only to find us tangled together, the desk lamp toppled.
His face turned crimson as Dominic barked at him to leave, frozen in place with his weapon drawn, only to be met with the sight of Dominic’s bare backside.
My embarrassment dissolved into helpless giggles.
Now, as Dominic leaned in for another kiss, I traced the tattoos across his chest, teasing a finger toward his nipple. “You know what they say,” I whispered playfully.
His voice became strained. “What do they say, Angel?”
“Practice makes perfect.”
His grin widened, melting my heart. “Then who am I to stand in the way of perfection—or our ultimate goal?” He crushed his mouth to mine, our hands roaming, exploring, claiming. And so, the night became ours again—spent in endless practice.
The elevator doors slide open onto the ground floor just as my phone begins to ring, pulling me back to the present. Sam’s name flashes across the screen—he must be on a break between cases.
“Hey, Elle darling, how was it?” His voice is as bright and cheerful as ever.
“Everything’s fine,” I answered, hesitating before clearing my throat. “Sam… Doctor Phillips mentioned Lamaze classes are starting next week. She thinks I should attend. Would you be able to come with me? I know it’s a lot to ask…”
He cuts off my rambling with his usual ease. “Hey girl, I’ve got your back. Just tell me when.”
Relief washes over me at his easy agreement. It’s my day off, and since my appointment was at the same hospital where I work, home is only a short walk away. Stepping outside into the chilly air, I smile. “Sam, let me repay you with dinner tonight at my place.”
“Rain check, girl? I’ve got a date with a hot radiologist.” His excitement makes me laugh.
Sam has been pining after Doctor Steve Grant for weeks, finding excuses to pass by radiology just to catch a glimpse.
Normally he flirts shamelessly with everyone, but around Steve he turns shy and tongue-tied—a sure sign of how much he really likes him.
“When did this happen?” I ask, suspicious, knowing full well he practically goes mute around Steve.
“Well,” Sam begins, “I was passing by radiology during lunch when he came out of the MRI suite.” We both know there’s no way he just happened to be passing by—radiology is two floors above the operating theatre.
“When he spotted me, I pretended I was escorting a post-op patient on a stretcher waiting for a scan. I even grabbed his chart.” The image of Sam lurking and getting caught makes me laugh.
“Elle, I could barely get a word out while he stood there smiling at me. I wanted to sink through the floor when the nurse came back from the bathroom and snatched the patient’s records right out of my hand.”
“Oh my God, Sam!” I burst out, laughter spilling over as I catch the curious glances of people passing on the sidewalk. I laugh so hard my stomach aches, nearly doubled over. Sam’s own laughter rings through the phone, contagious and unrestrained.
When he finally manages to speak again, he continues, voice still broken by chuckles. “So, while the nurse and porter were wheeling the patient into the MRI suite, he stopped at the door. Asked if I was Sam from OT… and if I wanted to grab drinks tonight.”
By the time Sam finishes recounting his encounter, I’m stepping into my apartment building, still smiling, his excitement lingering in my ears like an echo of joy.
“I’m so happy for you, Sam.” I say as I lock the door behind me, slipping off my shoes with relief. My keys and purse land on the hall table, and I collapse onto my worn couch, propping my aching feet up.
“I’ll be waiting for every detail of your date,” I add with a grin. “I just got in, and you know I live vicariously through you, buddy. We’ll catch up later, okay?” “Sure, later darling,” he replies warmly before ending the call.
I shift into a comfortable position, letting the quiet of my apartment settle around me. Minutes pass and I’m still chuckling to myself, replaying Sam’s antics in my mind.