I snort.
Could have fooled me.
He pulls off the baseball cap, swiping a hand through his thick dark hair. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine. Nauseous. Terrified. The usual."
"Yeah." He leans back in the chair, and I notice he's even stiffer than usual. “Understood.”
We sit in awkward silence for a moment, surrounded by couples who seem to have their shit together in ways we definitelydon't.
To my right, a woman is showing her partner paint swatches. "I'm thinking sage green for the nursery. Calming but not boring."
To my left, another couple is discussing baby names. "If it's a boy, I like Sebastian. If it's a girl, maybe Olivia?"
And here we are. Not touching. Barely speaking. Two people who made a baby together and have no idea how to be in the same room anymore.
“By the way…” Donovan's voice is quiet. "I got your text. The one you left after the food drop-off.”
I stiffen. The text I wrote at two AM while eating pad thai and crying.
“Thank you for the food. Thank you for being honest. Even if it doesn’t seem like it, I appreciate it. -E”
"You don't have to—" I start.
"I want to.” Dark brows knitting together, he turns slightly to face me, his handsome face furrowing. "I just need you to know thatI—“
"Emma Sinclair?" A nurse appears in the doorway. "We're ready for you."
I stand, and Donovan stands with me.
"You're coming in?" I ask.
"If you want me to."
I should say no. Should maintain boundaries. Should protect myself from getting hurt when he inevitably decides he doesn't want this.
Instead, I say, "Okay."
The exam room is smaller than I expected, with an ultrasound machine in the corner and stirrups that make my stomach churn for reasons that have nothing to do with morning sickness.
Dr. Chen is a woman in her forties with kind eyes and an efficient manner. She introduces herself, asks routine questions about my last period and symptoms, then turnsto Donovan.
"And you're dad?"
Donovan freezes for half a second. "Yes."
The word comes out rough. Uncertain.
But it's a yes.
"Great." Dr. Chen doesn't seem to notice the tension. "Let's take a look at what we have here.”
She has me lie back on the exam table, and I try not to think about how vulnerable I feel with my shirt pushed up and Donovan standing awkwardly by my head.
"This will be cold," Dr. Chen warns, squeezing gel onto my stomach.
It is cold. Shockingly cold.
