As I reach for the door, a wave of nausea hits me—I’m pretty sure it’s not morning sickness this time, but pure anxiety. In an hour, I'll be lying on an exam table, a stranger probing and measuring and telling me how my life is going to change. Izzy will be there, thank God—I don’t know what I’d do without her.
My eyes burn with sudden tears. I blink them back furiously, refusing to mess up the makeup I just applied. I will not cry over Alexander fucking Kingsley again. I've wasted enough tears on him.
The baby deserves better than him.Ideserve better than him.
I lock my apartment door behind me, squaring my shoulders as I walk toward the elevator. Whatever happens in that doctor's office today, I'll handle it. I just need to get through it without falling apart.
The elevator doors slide open. I step inside, pressing the lobby button with a finger that only trembles slightly. As the doors close, I catch a final glimpse of myself in the mirrored wall—a woman pretending to be braver than she feels.
It'll have to do.
My phone vibrates in my hand. Izzy's name flashes on the screen, and I answer immediately. "Hey, I'm just heading out. Meet you there?"
"Cami, I'm so sorry." Her voice already tells me everything I don't want to hear. "My boss just dropped a last-minute business trip on me. I have to be on a plane to Chicago in two hours."
"Oh." My heart falls to my stomach.
"I feel terrible. I know how important today is." Genuine regret fills her voice. "Can you reschedule? Maybe for next week when I'm back?"
"The appointment took three weeks to get," I say, trying to keep the desperation from my voice. "And I... I need to know everything's okay."
"Shit. I'm so sorry." Papers rustle in the background—Izzy already packing, already moving on with her life while mine stands still. "What about your mom?"
I almost laugh. "Right. Because what I need today is my mother asking who the father is and telling me I've ruined my life."
"Fair point." Izzy pauses. "What about Julian? You said he's been checking in on you."
Julian. The thought of calling him makes my face warm. He's been texting almost daily since he brought me soup, just little check-ins, funny observations about his day. Nothing pushy, nothing that crosses a line. Just... letting me know he’s there.
"I can't ask him to do that," I say, even as the elevator doors open to the lobby. "It's would be too weird."
"From what you've told me, he wouldn't mind," Izzy says. "I’m so sorry but I really have to go if I'm going to make this flight. Call me as soon as you're done, okay?"
The call ends and I stand frozen in the lobby, people streaming around me like I'm a rock in a river. Alone. The wordechoes in my head. I'm going to be alone for the first glimpse of my baby, the first time I hear its heartbeat.
Unless.
Before I can second-guess myself, I pull up Julian's contact and press call. He answers on the second ring.
"Camille." His voice is warm, surprised. "Everything alright?"
"I'm sorry to bother you," I begin, words tumbling out too fast. "I have my first prenatal appointment today and my friend who was supposed to come with me had an emergency, and I just... I don't want to go alone." I pause, breath catching. "It's completely fine if you can't. I know it's last minute and completely inappropriate of me to ask?—"
"Where and when?" Julian interrupts gently.
I blink. "What?"
"The appointment. Where is it and what time?"
"Upper East Side. Dr. Wiley. In—" I check my watch, "—forty-five minutes."
"Text me the address. I'll meet you there." No hesitation, no questions. Just simple certainty.
"Julian, you don't have to?—"
"I want to," he says, and I can hear his smile through the phone. "No one should have to do this alone, love."
The endearment, casual as it is, makes my throat tight. "Thank you."
