23. Archer
ARCHER
“All right. Let’s get a look at little baby Evans here, shall we?”
I bristle, clearing my throat. Allie doesn’t correct her doctor, but her mouth twitches in the corner as she lays back on the exam table. The room is small, just big enough to fit the three of us and the bundle of equipment in the corner. The ultrasound machine, I assume.
The room is dark, save for the light filtering through the blinds above the bed Allie is lying on.
“Dad, you can take a seat”—the doctor nods toward the two chairs pressed against the wall—“and roll on over beside the bed if you’d like.”
Dad. Christ, that word sounds like it’s being spoken in a different language entirely.
What does it mean to be a dad? To hold that title? I can’t even begin to wrap my head around it. Allie’s eyes flash to mine, and she raises a brow before smirking, as if to say, I know, right?
I do as the doctor suggests, stopping beside Allie’s bed. She glances at me, offering an uneasy, close-lipped smile.
We hardly talked on the drive over here, or in the waiting room after she checked in. I don’t know what to say to her, how to navigate this fucked-up situation. For the first time in my life, I look at her face and see deception. As dramatic as it may be, I feel like I’ve lost sight of who she is.
Or perhaps she lost sight of me.
Believed I was someone she had to hide from, when I’m supposed to be the person she runs to.
All I know is that when she opens her mouth, I’m fearful for what will come out of it. Terrified there are further secrets she’s harboring. She holds my entire soul inside her being, and I don’t know if I can trust her with it anymore.
That’s a heartbreak more potent than anything I’ve ever known.
Yet… I look at her and see something new. Something ethereal and god-like. Something I’ll worship for the rest of my life because she’s carrying my child. A new life, made of her and me, is going to bloom, and as petrified as I am of what the future holds, I somehow feel…complete? Whole?
I haven’t found the words for it, but there is an instinctual understanding that what Allie’s giving me is a gift, and the tether that’s long existed between us will gain a brand new thread, and I’ll forever be changed.
The splurt of gel over Allie’s stomach rips me from my thoughts as the doctor flicks on the monitor and begins maneuvering the wand over her midsection. Allie’s bump is still small enough to hide, just a rounded swell at her lower abdomen, most prominent when she’s lying on her back like this.
“They’re a little more formed now than the last time you were in.” The doctor, Abbey I think is her name, smiles as she points at the screen.
The breath whooshes out of me as my world flips on its goddamn axis. There on the screen, in black and white, is the clear outline of a head, a body, and tiny feet. “Fuck.”
The doctor laughs to herself. “It’s pretty incredible.”
My face falls into my hands as I prop my elbows on Allie’s bed, covering my mouth as pure astonishment rushes through me. My mind can’t keep up with what my eyes are seeing.
Allie lets out a breathless giggle, and suddenly the screen is shaking—our baby moving with it.
“Are you ready to hear the heartbeat now?”
I glance at Allie, and she looks at me, tears lining her eyes. “I didn’t want to do it without you.”
Her words strike a chord in me, my chest filling with warmth. I grab her hand, holding it to my lips as I brush them over her knuckles. “Thank you.” I turn to Dr. Abbey. “Please, can we?”
She smiles wide, red ponytail swishing as she spins in her stool and messes with the machine. A second later, the steady thrump, thrump, thrump of our baby’s heart floats through the room.
And I fucking lose it.
A wrecked sob bubbles out of my throat, eyes stinging with tears as I listen to that strong heart thrum through my ears—a heart that I helped create.
“That’s our baby,” Allie whispers, voice thick with astonishment.
“That’s your baby,” Doctor Abbey confirms.
I pull my eyes from the monitor and look at her, she’s still watching the screen—complete and utter wonder floating in her eyes. I stand up, leaning over her as I brush loose curls from her forehead and plant my lips against her skin.
Running my nose over her temple, I whisper, “Our baby.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, quiet enough that only I could hear the cracked words leave her lips.
I hush her, kissing her cheek before sinking back into my chair.
I’m still lost and confused and blinded by the shock of it all, but staring at the little life we created, feeling the weight that comes with that—I believe I might understand her a little more.
“I think I might throw up,” Allie says as we march up the front porch steps of my parents’ house.
“Did you check your blood pressure this morning? Is it high?” I ask, placing my hand against her back.
“No, Archer.” She sighs. “It was slightly elevated, likely because of my anxiety, but not in the danger zone.”
I breathe out an exhale of relief. “Okay.”
Allie’s doctor sent her home from the appointment yesterday with a blood pressure cuff and has advised her to track it twice a day throughout her pregnancy.
Though, she also confirmed that prenatal hypertension is nothing to be overly concerned about, and so long as we monitor it, Allie should be okay. She and the baby are otherwise very healthy, but regardless, I’m still worried.
Thank God Zander had been with her when she fainted, but what if she had been home alone? How long would it have taken for her to get help?
Were she to faint again, or go through a dizzy spell, who knows how long it would take for someone to get to her to help, and if I’m expected to return to Texas tomorrow, I need to make sure she’s completely safe and taken care of before I go.
If I go.
I’m undecided.
I can’t stand the idea of her being alone in her apartment.
“It’s going to be okay. They might be a little surprised, but they’ll support us. They’ll be excited even, I’m sure,” I say reassuringly as I reach for the door.
Truthfully, I don’t know how our parents are going to take this.
My mother had my sister at nineteen, and I’m a little terrified about the fact that I’ll be handing her a sonogram before I hand her a university diploma.
My dad will be happy about it, I bet.
My guess is that Macie will at first exclaim that she’s far too young to be a grandmother, but she’ll warm up to the idea quickly. Dom might hit me. We’ll see.
When I step inside the house, I’m immediately hit with the smell of cinnamon spice and the sound of “Sure Thing” by Miguel. I smile to myself as I reach behind and grab Allie’s hand, pulling her toward the kitchen.
Through the dining room, I can see them moving around the island, sliding across the floor in sweatpants, dancing to the rhythm and singing the lyrics.
The ingredients to my mom’s pumpkin cheesecake are strewn over the counter in a massive mess, but they couldn’t find a care in the world as my dad twirls her around, causing a burst of laughter to leave her mouth.
My parents’ dancing in the kitchen together is a staple of my childhood—something I’ve always been determined to have someday too.
I fantasize about it with Allie, the way our kids may hide behind the pantry door and watch us, witnessing that kind of soul-deep, impenetrable love that I saw in my parents when my brother and I did the same as children.
It’s a searing kind of sting—the way those fantasies slam into my consciousness now.
I wonder if Allie and I will still find that.
“Hey, Mama!” I call over the music.
She pauses mid-spin, halting as she turns in my direction. Her blue eyes widen before a bright smile takes over her face. “Hi, birthday boy.” Allie drops my hand as my mom surges forward, wrapping me in her arms. “I still can’t believe you came home just to spend the day with me.”
She’s squeezing me so tight that the words come out muffled when I murmur, “Well, actually…”
The music stops, and another pair of arms comes around my shoulders. “Hey, kid.”
“Hi, Dad.” I smile as they let me go. “Z is coming by too, and um…”
“My parents should be here in about ten minutes,” Allie says softly. “We were hoping to talk to you before dinner tonight.”
My mom steps back, eyeing Allie curiously before flicking her gaze to me. “Okay…do you want breakfast or coffee while we wait?”
“I’m all right,” I say at the same time Allie chimes, “Can I have a banana with peanut butter?”
Allie hates peanut butter.
Mom cocks her head, as if pondering the same thing.
“C’mon, birthday boy. Let’s go hide in the garage and scare the fuck out of your brother when he gets here.” My dad claps my shoulder, ushering me out of the kitchen.
I glance at Allie. “I’ll be right back.”
She smiles softly. Forced. “Sounds good.”
Zander offered to be with us for moral support when we tell our parents, and I initially declined, but Allie thought it’d be a good idea.
I don’t imagine a world where either of our parents are anything but supportive—even if initially shocked by the news, but Allie seems to think having Zander on our side will help if they don’t take it as well as we’re hoping.
My dad and I do, in fact, scare the shit out of Z when he shows up, and he’s still berating us on the front porch when Macie and Dom pull into the driveway.
Macie climbs out of their Mercedes in a pair of heeled boots and jeans, her sparkly, cream-colored cardigan glistening off the sun as she makes her way up the drive—blond curls bouncing with each step.
She throws her arms out wide as she reaches us.
“Happy birthday, my favorite boys,” she sings as Zander and I hug her back.
When we pull back, she studies me intensely, hazel eyes swirling with an expression I can’t quite read. Her husband appears by her side, and his features are much harder as he soaks me in. Dark eyes narrowed under thick brows, lips a thin line as he tosses me a once-over.
“So…what are we here to talk about?”