I love you.
Ugh.
Deciding to just go for it, I hit his number and put the phone to my ear, listening to it ring. He answers after the first one.
“There you are. I was freaking out,” he says, sounding a little frantic. “Where were you?”
“Taking a nap,” I say, swallowing hard. Now that I have him on the phone, it’s hard for me to actually do this. To say the words, I’m pregnant.
“Fable, everyone in marketing and publicity is freaking out. Some jackass supposedly followed you and said he heard you say you were pregnant to a friend in a restaurant.” He pauses, letting the words sink into my stunned brain. Holy crap, someone actually followed me and Jen? Unbelievable. “Is it true? Or is this ass**le just making shit up? I told them it’s not true because I’d know if you were pregnant or not. I mean, shit—I’m your husband. And we already discussed this. You wouldn’t run and go tell a friend first.”
Actually, now both Jen and Owen know before my own husband, but that’s beside the point. “I don’t want you to be mad at me,” I murmur.
“What?”
I clear my throat. “Drew. I’m pregnant.”
He’s quiet. Way too quiet. I can feel the explosion building, can practically hear the wheels turning in his brain as he tries to process what I just said. “You’re kidding.” He sounds scarily calm.
“I’m not.” I lie back on our bed, my stomach pitching and rolling like a tiny boat caught in a stormy sea. “I’m about five weeks along.”
“How long have you known?”
“That doesn’t matter.” I didn’t expect that question, though it was stupid of me not to.
“It kind of does, at least to me. How long have you been keeping this secret, Fable? Did you really tell someone else at a restaurant? Who the hell was it?”
“I was with Jen,” I admit, closing my eyes. “I was scared to tell you, Drew. I didn’t know what you might say or how you’d react, especially after what happened in Boston.”
“When?” His voice drops to a near whisper. “When do you think it happened? That we conceived the—baby?”
“This is the funniest part.” Not really, but I’m trying to make light of the situation. “I’m pretty sure it happened when we were in Boston.”
“But you’re on the pill.” Another pause. “Right?”
“Yes. This is why I was afraid to tell you. I was scared you’d think I tried to trick you. We agreed that we wouldn’t try for a baby for at least a year, and then I go and get pregnant.” It was almost a relief, unloading all of that. For the first time in about two weeks, I feel like I can breathe easy again.
“Fable.” His husky voice is thick with emotion. “I can’t freaking believe it.”
“Are you upset?” Fear kicks in again, making my heart beat triple time.
“No. Hell, no,” he says quickly, his voice fierce. “I just … I think I’m in shock. Holy shit, Fable. We’re going to have a baby.”
“I know.” Tears form, slipping from the corners of my eyes. “I’m still shocked, too. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around.”
“And it’s weird, right? That we have that entire fight about having a baby and then bam, you get pregnant. I think that’s a sign.” He goes quiet again and I listen to his breathing, know that he’s still trying to process all of this, the poor guy. My poor, sweet, accepting husband. How did I get so lucky? “It was meant to be, Fable. This baby, us becoming parents at this time in our lives. It’s like God’s will or something.”
“Yes, I-I think so, too,” I say, sniffing discreetly, but he hears me.
“You’re crying, aren’t you?”
“Fine. Yes, I am.” A sob chokes me up and I let it out, beginning to cry in earnest. It takes me a moment to compose myself before I blurt out a string of words. “I was so afraid you’d be mad and think I tried to trap you into this. I have no idea what happened. I can’t tell you if I took a pill too late or what. It just … happened.”
“Birth control pills aren’t one hundred percent foolproof,” he says, Mr. Factoid. “We’ve been taking a risk for years.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“I wish you were with me,” he murmurs, the promise in his voice making my skin sizzle. Helping me momentarily forget my drying tears.
“I wish I were there, too,” I confess.
“Are you feeling okay?”
The question makes me laugh, because I have been the complete opposite of feeling okay. “No. This little booger does its damnedest to make me miserable on a daily basis.”
“How? Holy shit, Fable, I can’t believe you haven’t told me until now that you’re pregnant. All this time I could’ve helped you … do you need anything? Do you want me to come home?” He sounds panicked, and I immediately reassure him.
“No, I’m fine, really, and I have Owen. He’ll help me if I need it. And I have Jen. I just get morning sickness, like all the time, and I’m really tired.”
He doesn’t sound convinced, but he gives in. “Fine. Okay. As long as you’re all right.” Drew pauses and my heart lightens. He just wants to make sure I’m all right and I adore him for that. “I’m sorry, baby. I’d take care of you if I were there. Give you whatever you need.”
“I know.” I smile. “I’ll come see you when you get back.”
“No, I’ll come see you. It’s your lucky day because I have a bye week next week and no game to play,” he says.
“Really?” Hope lights my chest, filling it with warmth. A bye week means my husband won’t have a game to play or practice for. He can have a few extra days off. “Oh my God, Drew, that’s such great timing.”
“I know, baby. I’ll be home Monday. And I’ll take care of you all week, okay? I promise.”
“Okay.” I sniff again, more tears falling. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m going to be a dad.”
I burst out laughing, even through the tears. “Well, get over it because it’s true. You so are.”
“And you’re going to be a mom.” His voice softens, full of wonder. “We’re going to have a baby, Fable.”