No matter what I do, I can’t get rid of the lump. It’s heavy and filled with doubt that won’t leave.
“Fuck it.” I reach forward and slap my clammy hand on the envelope, sliding it towards me and swallowing down the ball of fear. Turning it over, I rip it open and pull out the contents. Inside are various folders filled with different people hoping to be chosen. I spread all the folders out in front of me without opening them.
I count them, coming up with twenty different people that want to be parents. Twenty different people that could be my child’s mom and dad. Are they good people? I can’t very well open these up and determine if my child will go into a serial killer’s home. I can’t read through their paper profiles and come to a conclusion that the people won’t love my child as much as the next profile. How would I ever be able to find the perfect parent for my little bean?
I open up the first one and read through, eyes blurring as I stare at their pictures. I slap the folder closed and open up the next, only to slap it closed again.
When I see a tall figure pass my window, I roll my eyes and wonder what I’ve done to have such bad luck.
Does Jackson seriously need to come over right now? What kind of timing is this? I mean seriously.
I debate whether I should hide the folders, but then decide it doesn’t matter. He should be a part of this process, and the sooner he comes to terms with the fact the better.
He knocks, and I get up and walk towards the door. When I go to open, I stop in my tracks. My eyes go wide and I bend over to clutch my stomach.
What the fuck?
It feels like gasor something.I don’t know, but when it happens again, I let out a little squeak.
“Cara?” He opens up the door, and when he sees me curled over, his eyes go wide and he rushes to me. “Cara? Are you all right? Is it the baby?”
If I wasn’t in such shock, I would laugh my ass off. This emotionless man looks overwhelmed right now.
Here’s this tall, overgrown eighteen-year-old in basketball shorts and a black hoodie. The hood is pulled over the tops of his eyes and makes him look cold. His hair pokes out from the hood and his eyes glow with unease in the dim light. He’s handsome. I never realized it, but he’s seriously good looking.
Why did I never notice this before?
And why the fuck am I noticing it right now?
But he’s also a jackass. Can’t forget that.
“I’m fine.” I gasp, slowly straightening and keeping my hand on my stomach. Eyes wide, I feel it again.
“Well, what is it? What happened?” He barks at me.
“It’s the baby.” I only say, bringing my other hand and curling both hands around my bump.
“Is something wrong? Should we go to the hospital?”
“No, I… I think the baby is moving.” I look up at him with shimmering eyes and grab onto his hand, bringing it to my stomach and pressing where I’ve felt the movements.
His face pales, eyes going wide as he stares down at my stomach. Crouching down, his fingers clench around my shirt, trying to remain still but I can see the slight tremor in them. When I feel it again, I shoot my eyes down to his, the same moment he looks up at me.
“Feel it?” I whisper.
He nods his head.
We stare at each other for so long, the rest of the room fades out and it’s just us, connecting on a level we’ve never been before.
I don’t think I’ve ever had such a deep connection with Logan—ever.
Is it because of the baby? Or is it us?
Memories flood my mind. The day I first met Jackson and how closed off he was. His sad face throughout his childhood that turned into an angry stare when he became older. The night we slept together, how broken he seemed and how he brought me pure ecstasy with his anger and hurt. Then the next morning, how he shut me out and hurt me when I was already in pieces. How it’s been a roller coaster of emotions with him since the beginning. How he left me in the dark after I told him I was pregnant.
I blink, clarity making my skin turn from hot to ice cold. I step out of his hand and watch the wonder in his eyes turn cloudy with uncertainty. His shoulders flex and stiffen as he comes to a stand, and his mood darkens the entire room.
I brush my hand through my hair and back away from his intense stare.