My eyes darted back and forth between his. In the same way I’d sensed there was something going on, I also knew he wasn’t lying to me now.
“Believe me?” he asked.
“I do.”
“Good. Now, rest if that’s what you need. When you wake up, I’ll be in the same place I am now.”
He stroked my hair, and I let my eyes drift closed. There’d never been a time in my life when I trusted in anyone the way I did Kick. It was sad to think I couldn’t say that about either of my parents.
Rather than allow myself to get lost in what would only lead to more tears, I did as Kick had suggested and slept.
“Ms. Van Orr?” I heard someone say at the same time I felt a hand on my arm. I opened my eyes and looked around the room. Kick wasn’t in the chair beside me, but he waved from right outside the door.
“I had to take a call, but I’ll be right in,” he said.
The ultrasound technician, a woman who looked to be in her fifties, had kind eyes and a calm demeanor. She dimmed the lights and shifted the machine closer to the bed.
“I’m going to do a transvaginal ultrasound since you’re still in your first trimester. It’ll give us the clearest picture. Is that okay?”
“Of course.”
“Is there someone you’d like in here with you?” she asked just as Kick returned and sat in the same chair he’d been in earlier.
“I’m here,” he said, taking my hand and brushing my forehead with a kiss.
The technician positioned the wand, and the screen flickered to life with shapes I couldn’t interpret.
Unable to look, I watched Kick’s face instead. His wide eyes moved across the monitor as silence stretched. Seconds that felt like hours.
Then his expression shifted, and his grip on my hand tightened. And I heard it.
Thump-thump-thump-thump.
It was fast and strong, filling the room like a tiny drumbeat.
“There we go,” the technician said. “Strong heartbeat. One hundred fifty-two beats per minute. Right where we want it.”
A sob tore out of me before I could stop it. Relief and terror and exhaustion all tangled together until I couldn’t tell where one ended and another began.
Kick brought my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against my knuckles, and when I looked up at him, his eyes were wet.
“The baby looks good,” the technician continued, pointing at the screen. “See that flicker? That’s the heart. And there’s the head, the body. Measuring right on track for thirteen weeks.”
I made myself look. On the monitor was a grainy image of something that didn’t look human. To think that flutter of movement was a heartbeat—still there, still fighting.
“I’ll get the doctor to come talk to you,” the technician said, handing me a paper towel to clean up. “Butfrom what I can see, baby’s doing just fine.”
When she left, the room went quiet except for the hum of machines.
Kick still held my hand. He hadn’t let go since he walked in. “Thirteen weeks,” he said softly. “That means October.”
“Yes.”
“It’s mine.”
“Yes.”
He nodded slowly and kissed my knuckles a second time. I braced myself for the accusation. The anger. Thewhy didn’t you tell methat I deserved.
