I jumped as she gently pressed the ultrasound wand to my belly. I turned my head to look at the screen set up by the bed.
Amy moved the wand across my stomach. My whole body was tense as we waited to hear—
My breath caught at the whooshing sound of a rapid heartbeat.
“There we go. There’s the heartbeat.” Amy smiled.
And it hit me. Like a tidal wave.
I was really, actually, truly going to be a mom.
I was going to have this tiny little person to love and raise and show them everything my parents hadn’t shown me.
I’d finally have a family.
Although I’d thought about this from the moment I’d found out I was pregnant … it hit me. There was a little person growing inside me.
Tears filled my eyes, spilling down my cheeks. And suddenly, I could smell Jack’s cologne, I could feel his lips whispering sweet kisses across my temple and down my cheek, catching the tears. His fingers curled tight around mine.
Turning my head on the pillow, I looked at him, his face close, and through the wet in my eyes, I saw his were bright with emotion too. As if he couldn’t help himself, he pressed his lips to mine, and I let him.
In fact, I kissed him back.
It was the sweetest kiss of my life.
“Sorry,” he whispered hoarsely as he broke away. “Caught in the moment.”
I squeezed his hand to reassure him it was okay and then saw our tech beaming at us. She clearly thought we were a loving couple. It hurt that we weren’t.
Looking away from her, I turned back to the screen to listen to that beautiful heartbeat.
Not long later, we left with an envelope filled with scan snapshots that we could share with our friends and Jack’s family. Rosalie was itching to meet me, and Jack and I were putting it off because we didn’t want to deal with any questions about why we weren’t together. I knew neither of us could put off that meeting much longer.
“March,” Jack said. It was the first word either of us had uttered since leaving the hospital.
“Yeah.” Our baby was due March 1. I was definitely twelve weeks along. I clutched at the envelope with the images. “We’re going to be parents, Jack.”
“I know, Em. I still don’t think it’s fully hit me. I’m getting there, but …”
“It hit me harder, hearing the heartbeat … But I know what you mean. I don’t think it will fully hit us until the little one is here.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. And then he said, “You’re right.”
I looked at him and he flicked me a remorseful look before turning his eyes back to the road.
“You’re right, Em. I have made decisions for us both without taking your opinion into account. I never even thought about it like that. I just … you have to know that wasn’t me being a controlling, bullying bastard.” He glowered, but I knew it wasn’t directed at me. “I’m not my father. I thought I was protecting you.”
Sympathy and exhaustion hit me at the same time. “Jack, I know you’re not your father. That’s not what I meant.”
“I know. But I need you to know that it came from a place of good. Pushing you away … I did that for you. If I’d made those decisions for me, we would’ve been together a long time ago. I was trying to be unselfish, and protecting you is just something my instincts scream at me to do. But somehow, I’ve ended up being high-handed. I’ll stop doing that. If you want to come to the trial, then that is absolutely your prerogative.”
Relief flooded me. It wasn’t the first time Jack had admitted when he was wrong and vowed to do better. And he’d proven last time that he meant it. “I do. I want to be there for you. You’re my friend.”
His hands tightened around the wheel. “Yeah.”
This need for him to assure me that he wasn’t his father bothered me, though. For weeks, I’d been concerned that my decision not to be with Jack because I didn’t trust him romantically was still causing him to think he wasn’t worthy of trust, period. I’d known that when he suggested we spend time together because I had to learn to trust him if he was to be the father of my child. I’d agreed at the time, but afterward, it bugged me that he thought I wouldn’t trust him to be a good dad.
“Jack?”