Chapter 62
Ben, April 18
I cannot begin to explain the ecstasy of this morning. To have Liz know how I feel—and to have her accept it—was spectacular. To finally show her what I’ve been holding in for so long… there aren’t words for that yet.
The sun streams through my window now; it must be nearing noon. Liz is sleeping peacefully beside me, her breaths soft and even. With the time change and the flight, she must be exhausted. Plus, I grin to myself, the physical exertion of earlier can’t have helped her energy levels.
I lie still, watching her. This amazing woman, the one I’ve wanted for so long, came all this way to surprise me. And now she’s here—in my bed, no less—real and radiant in a way that exceeds every expectation I ever dared imagine.
But there’s one thing I never prepared for.
Checking that she’s still asleep, I reach out tentatively, resting my hand against the curve of her swollen belly. I don’t know what I expect to feel. It’s firmer than a thigh or an arm, a different kind of solidness. I press a little more, cautiously, and then—suddenly—the surface shifts beneath my palm.
I snatch my hand back like I’ve been burned, staring. “Did you just move?” I whisper. I’m not sure if I want Liz to answer, or if I’m speaking to the baby.
Leaning closer, I wait. Nothing. Slowly, I place my hand down again. It feels softer now, but as I move it toward her belly button, there’s another firmer spot. I press gently, but this time nothing happens.
“She doesn’t always move when you want her to,” Liz murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.
I freeze, caught. “She?”
Her eyes flutter open, and she smiles. “Yup. The doctor told me last week. It’s a girl. I’m thinking of naming her Emma.”
“Emma,” I repeat softly, trying the sound on my tongue. “Emma what?”
“Emma Michelle.” She beams, the kind of joy that radiates from deep inside, lit by the thought of someone she hasn’t even met yet.
“Emma Michelle Banks,” I say before I can stop myself. The name rolls out naturally, and then I realize my mistake. This baby isn’t just Liz’s. The baby certainly isn’t mine. No matter what I’d like to imagine, Emma belongs to another man. I clear my throat. “Sorry. That’s not right, is it? What’s Matt’s last name?”
“You were right, actually.” Her hand smooths protectively over her belly. “Matt and I agreed Emma should have my name. It’ll make things easier.”
“Oh.” Relief washes through me, though I try not to show too much. “It’s a beautiful name.”
“Thank you. I’m pretty happy with it.”
“I can see that.” I smile, watching her rub her stomach with a tenderness that nearly undoes me. “You’re going to be an amazing mother,” I say.
Her eyes soften. She leans up and kisses me—light, grateful, full of meaning.
When she pulls back, I can’t stop grinning. “What was that for?”
She shrugs, but her smile is mischievous. “Making up for lost time.”
“Well, in that case…” I murmur, leaning closer, letting my actions speak for me as I show Liz how glad I am that she’s here.