Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
IRIS
While Hunter runs to the store, I stare at the ceiling, wide awake, while Buster snores softly at my side.
My stomach isn’t roiling anymore, but my brain refuses to shut down.
Holy cow. A baby. I definitely didn’t see that coming.
Yet, I should’ve. I can’t believe I never even thought about the possibility until my stomach started rebelling each time the sun rises.
I run my fingers absently through Buster’s fur, and it’s so soft it’s almost distracting, but not enough to drown out the panic.
The room is a grayish blue, just barely alive with morning.
The blinds cut the sunlight into slices, laying stripes across the rumpled blanket and Hunter’s pillow.
The only other light comes from the hallway, a little glow sneaking in under the bedroom door.
I’ve never been this tired or this awake in my entire life.
What if I really am pregnant? What if I’m not? Both options loom equally huge and terrifying. I keep trying to imagine the next hour, or the next week, or the next nine months. My mind bounces between disaster and daydream. The mental whiplash leaves me dizzy.
Buster shifts in his sleep, his nose twitching. He makes a little huffing noise, then resumes his snore. My heart softens for a second. I untangle my hand from his ears and let it rest on my stomach, flat and unremarkable. I can’t feel anything there. No flutter, no sign, no clue.
When I hear the soft metallic click of the deadbolt turning, I jolt upright so hard I nearly send Buster flying off the bed. My pulse pounds as my body goes cold, then hot, then cold again.
The door swings open, and Hunter steps into the bedroom. He’s holding a small white paper bag with the pharmacy logo on the side. In the other hand, he’s clutching a pink box of donuts.
He crosses the room in three strides and sits beside me on the edge of the mattress. The entire bed dips under his weight.
“How are you feeling, Sunshine?” He gently pushes a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Much better,” I whisper as he hands me the paper bag. When our hands touch, I feel the tiniest tremor run through his.
His eyes flicker up to mine. There’s something raw and unguarded there. “Are you ready to find out?”
“No, but let’s do it anyway.” I laugh and take the little bag with me to the bathroom.
I sit on the toilet, rip open the package, and read the directions five times.
They’re so simple, I want to laugh. Pee on the stick.
Wait three minutes. Read the little window.
Don’t panic. Runs through my mind on a constant loop as I do what I have to do, then cap it and set it on the edge of the sink.
My whole body is humming now, a tuning fork of nerves and hope and dread.
I stand, staring at the tiny window, and wait.
A minute passes. I can hear Hunter pacing outside, his footsteps heavy, the floor creaking with every turn. At one point, he mutters something under his breath, too soft to catch. The sound is oddly comforting.
I count the seconds, but the lines on the stick start to blur before I hit sixty. My vision goes swimmy. I can’t make sense of the result, can’t look at it, can’t not look at it. My whole future is packed into that half-inch rectangle, and I can’t even breathe.
Finally, I open the bathroom door wider. Hunter is right there, filling the doorway, his eyes locked onto me. There’s a look on his face I’ve never seen—fear and love and wild, desperate hope, all tangled up together.
I point to the little stick lying on the counter, my hand trembling. “Will you wait with me?”
His fingers close over mine, solid and warm. He looks at the test, then at me, and then back again.
For a second, neither of us says a word. We’re just standing there, side by side, waiting to see what happens next.
And that’s when I finally, truly understand that no matter what the result is, I’m not alone. Not now. Not ever.
Hunter’s hand finds my waist, gentle but certain. “Whatever happens, Sunshine, I’m right here. If you aren’t pregnant, I’ll work overtime to make sure you are next month.”
Holy cow. He wants the test to be positive. Actually, so do I.
I manage a nod, swallowing around the stone in my throat. My hands are shaking so badly that I have to flatten them against the sink just to keep from knocking the test into the trash can.
There’s a little beep from the phone timer. Time’s up.
I freeze.
Hunter leans in, his chin barely grazing the crown of my head. “Let’s check it together.”
I nod, tiny and desperate. “Okay.”
We lean over together and stare down at the little piece of plastic.
One word, digital and unmistakable, blinks up at us: pregnant.
My knees almost buckle. The whole room tilts, bright and floaty and unreal.
Tears start, instant and hot, rolling down my cheeks before I can even process what’s happening.
I spin around, searching Hunter’s face for a reaction, any reaction, but he’s looking at me with a softness that nearly undoes me.
His eyes are wide, the color of honey in strong tea, and locked on mine with this fierce, unwavering devotion.
I can’t speak. I just stand there, tears streaming, breath stuttering, arms limp at my sides. A dozen emotions sprint through my veins—terror, wonder, joy, absolute confusion.
Hunter doesn’t say a word. He just wraps his arms around me and holds on tight. The force of it knocks the last of the air from my lungs, and I melt into his chest, clutching the front of his T-shirt like a lifeline.
He rocks us back and forth, slow and steady, as if he’s got all the time in the world. When I finally lift my head, he brushes the tears from my cheeks, thumb rough and gentle at the same time.
“You okay?” he asks, voice barely more than a growl.
I nod, then shake my head, then nod again, because it seems like the thing to do.
“I can’t believe it,” I whisper, and it’s the truest thing I’ve ever said.
Hunter’s hands frame my face, guiding my gaze to his. “I’ve never been happier,” he says. “We’re going to do this together.”
The words wrap around me as my pulse hammers out a brand-new rhythm, loud and wild and hopeful.
I barely have time to finish my happy-ugly cry before the world flips upside down again.
Without a word, Hunter steps back and drops to one knee.
My brain short-circuits. My knees start to buckle, but he steadies me with both hands, never breaking eye contact. “Oh my God,” I whisper, noticing that there’s a tiny black velvet box in his palm, conjured out of nowhere.
The lid pops open with a soft snap. Inside, a beautiful diamond ring glimmers. It isn’t huge, but it’s perfect.
My mouth flaps uselessly. I try to speak, but my mind is still processing the pregnancy test and the ring.
Hunter looks up at me with certainty shining in his eyes.
“Iris.” He says my name, full voice, with a gravity that nearly knocks the air out of my chest. “Meeting you showed me how great life could be.”
His hands are steady now, no more shaking. Just the kind of strength that anchors you when the whole world’s spinning.
He keeps going. “I used to think I was meant to be alone. That I was too old, too set in my ways.” He cuts himself off, jaw flexing. “But you changed that. You changed me. There’s nothing in this world that scares me more than the thought of living without you.”
I’m a mess of hiccup-y sobs and laughs with my face all blotchy, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because he’s here, he’s saying these things, and all I can do is nod like an idiot.
He takes my left hand and holds it between both of his. “I want to build a life with you and our baby. Will you marry me?” he asks.
My throat squeezes so tight I can barely squeak out, “Yes,” I manage. “God, yes.”
He laughs, relief shaking through his whole body, and then he slides the ring onto my finger. My hands are shaking so badly, it’s a miracle the thing doesn’t go flying across the room. Once it’s on though, he stands and pulls me against his warm, muscular body.
“I love you,” I tell him, and this time, I don’t have to fight for the words. “I love you so much.”
"I love you, too, Sunshine." Hunter's voice rumbles through his chest against mine as he takes my hand—his calloused thumb brushing over the new diamond—and presses my palm flat against my still-flat stomach.
His fingers cover mine completely, protective and possessive all at once, and the heat of his touch seeps through my thin cotton shirt.
Things are moving at lightning speed, but watching his eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks down at where our hands rest together, I couldn't possibly be happier.