Epilogue #2
Her chin trembles and she shrugs, unable to meet my eyes at first.
“Claire,” I repeat, softer, though I know exactly what she’s going to say.
She finally looks up at me and shakes her head solemnly, and I set the hot coffee down to kneel before her.
“I’m sorry, my love,” I tell her.
She inhales shakily and adjusts her robe. “Me, too.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I insist.
“I guess it caught me off guard,” she says meekly. “I hadn’t expected to start so soon. I mean, my temperature only rose nine or ten days ago.”
I frown. “Maybe we should check your progesterone again. That’s a short luteal phase.”
“I don’t get it, though. I mean, my temperature actually went up a few more tenths of a degree. It usually drops the day my period starts,” she laments with a sniffle, and I sit back on my heels and furrow my brow.
“I was feeling a little crampy the last day or so, but I honestly thought I was just sore … you know, from all of this,” she gestures between us, and even though I shouldn’t be allowing a cocky smirk to take over my face at a time like this, I can’t exactly help myself.
She rolls her eyes and allows it, though.
“Can I see your chart?” I ask her.
“My phone’s still on the nightstand,” she replies, looking confused.
“Bleeding or spotting?”
“Uh, spotting, for now.”
I hum thoughtfully then move to dig around beneath the sink for a pregnancy test. “Think you’ve got enough left in the tank?”
She frowns. “Rowan, don’t …”
“I’m serious. Trust me,” I tell her, and she swallows hard and nods before she takes the box from my hands.
I return with her phone a few seconds later, just as she’s setting the test strip onto the counter, and I pull up the charting app she’s been using since the NFP class we accidentally took together less than a year ago.
“You’re about nine days past ovulation, according to your peak day.
Since we started with the little hearts a few days before that, there’s a chance this is implantation bleeding.
It would also coincide with this secondary temp rise,” I point out, goosebumps lining my arms when I realize I could be right.
She bites her lip and stares down at the chart. “I don’t want to get our hopes up, just to be disappointed.”
“I know, I know. And the odds of it happening so quickly are pretty crazy. But then again, everything you’ve done, all the bloodwork and the hormones, it’s all come out normal, right?”
She shrugs only one shoulder again, as if she’s afraid to confirm what we already know to be true. “Mostly, yeah.”
“It’s not impossible,” I add.
She gulps and reaches out for me, and I pull her down to sit in my lap on the bathroom floor. “I guess … maybe it’s time for me to learn to let go of what I can’t control, to let God lead me to what He wants for us,” she ventures, and I nod and kiss the top of her head.
“Don’t be too discouraged if we don’t get a positive result right now. It’s still pretty early for an hCG spike,” I say. Before I can finish the statement, though, she’s already craning her neck to peer up at the test on the counter.
“Might as well wait another minute,” I say with a chuckle.
But her gaze is still zeroed in on that test strip, and I watch as her face pales.
“Claire?”
Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, and her throat works as she continues staring.
“I … I see it,” she chokes out, making my stomach dip.
“What?”
She licks her lips. “I see the second line from here.”
My eyes dart over to the counter, and I immediately know she’s right.
She clutches one of my hands in her own as she slowly rises from my lap and leans over the test. Sucking in a sharp breath, she grabs the test and sinks down into my lap, and we stare at it together as I whisper a prayer of gratitude.
“Is this what they mean by God having a sense of humor?” she asks, torn between laughing and crying.
“Because He literally answered your prayers within the same minute you handed over the reins?” I laugh through a sniffle.
“Well, yeah. But also because … after all these years of thinking the answer was no, He was only asking me to wait until He could knock them all out at once.”
My heart skips a beat, and her bottom lip trembles as she lifts her chin for a kiss.
“Never could have guessed a virgin with a peanut allergy would be the answer to all of my prayers, either,” she adds with a laugh, and I kiss her again.
We sit there so long holding one another and drying our tears that our coffee gets cold. By the time we’re able to move, we barely have enough time to shower and dress before Mass.
I promise Claire that we can stop by the clinic on the way home to run a blood test, mentioning that Tenley would be glad to check her charts as well, but she says, “Not yet. It’s just for us right now.
” Then she turns to stroke my cheek as she adds, “And not just because I’m afraid it’s too good to be true, but because you’re my soulmate.
” I can’t help but agree with that and tack on a few reminders of how much I love her.
I do pull the doctor card on her, though, and require that she at least sneak in to check her progesterone levels tomorrow, just in case.
She also insists on taking another at-home test before we go, a digital one this time, but we get the same result.
It seems to satisfy her and make her a jittery mess at the same time.
“Guess I should shop for a new truck now,” I think aloud as I open the passenger door for her.
Claire clicks her tongue. “Oh, now he wants to be comfortable.”
“Aren’t you going to—”
“Touch my Bronco and find out,” she interrupts me to say. “Community property, my ass.”
I snort out a laugh and reach over to hold her hand on the way.
“You know you’ll never be able to keep this a secret, right?” I say as we drive up at church and spot Landry’s Jeep in the parking lot.
“Of course I can.” Her eyelashes flutter wildly, and she glares at me when I point it out.
“You’re the one with the silly grin. I’m sure you’re just itching to announce that you’re going to be a daddy in a certain golf-buddies group chat,” she argues, shoving me playfully, but her cheeks flush with the prettiest shade of pink when I bring her hand up to my mouth for a kiss.
“Never been more proud or excited, even if you count that time I needed an epinephrine shot right after everyone saw you eating a peanut butter cookie,” I drawl, pressing my lips to her knuckles and making her simper.
“You’re amazing, you know, the answer to all of my prayers, and then some. I couldn’t have asked for anyone more perfect for me,” I remind her after a while.
“Are you saying that because I’m pregnant, or because I did that thing you like this morning … twice?” she muses.
I heave out a sigh, not even caring about the silly look on my face anymore. “Well, that, too. But mostly because you’re my soulmate.”
“I’ve already used that one today,” she replies. “But you haven’t said anything about my butt yet.”
“You didn’t let me finish,” I protest. “You see, I used to have this one really, really spicy fantasy about bumping into my soulmate in the most unlikely circumstances, then marrying her and making her the mother of my children—”
And that’s when she cuts me off and drags me in for a kiss.
Thanks for reading!