“What do you mean?”
I cup her face with both hands. “I never dreamed I could have this,” I reply, my voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t even know this was something I wanted. But all of a sudden, it makes so much sense. It’s like a puzzle piece falling into place.”
Her mouth trembles. “Samuil…” she says in a watery voice, but I don’t let her finish.
Instead, I kiss her again, slowly and humbly, savoring every inch of her that I can taste. She’s a miracle, I think. She is the first, and possibly only good thing that’s ever happened to me. She’s brought me this gift, and I can never show her enough gratitude. Inside her, this fragile, precious life is growing, and I can never allow the world to destroy it. My life has more purpose now than it ever has before.
I slide my hand down her arm until I can rest my palm against her lower belly. She covers my hand with hers, guiding me to the flat part of her where our child is growing. There’s nothing visible there yet, but I already feel a magnetic pull to this sacred space. My son or daughter lives there.
“The first night we were together?” I ask quietly, my eyes burning a hole into that spot.
“Yep.”
For over a month, my child has been growing inside her, getting stronger each and every day.
“I can’t believe how well you’re taking this,” she says softly, searching my face. “I didn’t know how you would react. I thought you might be angry. Or that you wouldn’t want…” Her voice breaks again as she trails off. “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to force anything on you.”
I shake my head, pulling her closer. “You’re not forcing anything,” I tell her earnestly. “I’m surprised too, but I’ve never been happier in my life than I am right now. You have no idea how much this child means to me.”
Tears spill down her cheeks again, and I kiss them away. She curls against me, finally letting herself relax. I wrap my arms around her, holding her in my lap and stroking her hair.
We lie back on the bed together, her head resting on my chest, our hands joined over her belly. I smooth her hair slowly, luxuriating in the softness, in the quiet, in the unimaginable tenderness swelling inside my chest.
“I know it’s a lot. It was a lot for me when I found out. It’s okay if you need a minute to adjust.”
I breathe deeply, trying to find the words for exactly how I’m feeling.
“It is certainly unexpected,” I say slowly. “Maybe even a little overwhelming and terrifying.” I tilt her chin so she looks at me. “But I also think it’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”
She nods at this, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, and presses a gentle kiss against my lips. It almost feels like a promise.
We speak quietly for a long time, voices barely above whispers, imagining what our lives could look like with a baby. We talk about places we want to travel together as a family and the things we want to teach our little one. We talk about our own families, or lack thereof, and the kind of life we want to give our child.
“I want to show them the ocean,” she says softly. “I’ve never gotten to go, and I promised myself that if I had a kid one day, I would make sure they get all the chances I never did.”
“I’ll take you both,” I murmur. “Wherever you want to go.”
“And if it’s a girl,” she whispers, “I want to teach her how to be strong. How to be brave. How to take up space in the world.”
“And if it’s a boy,” I say, “I’ll teach him to be a man who protects, not harms.”
She smiles, small and aching and beautiful. “I like that.”
Silence settles over us again, warm and fragile. Then I gently take her chin between my fingers.
“Molly, listen to me.”
She looks up at me, questioning.
“I’m going to protect you,” I say, my voice steady and absolute. “I’m going to protect you and this child with my life. Nothing will happen to either of you. Nothing. I swear to you.”
Her breath trembles. “Samuil…” she starts, but I can’t let her finish.
“I’ve never had anything worth protecting like this,” I continue. “I’ve never had anyone who mattered to me like this. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Let me keep you safe.”
She nods and tucks her head under my chin, a sign that feels like surrender and acceptance. I wrap both arms around her, holding her as tightly as I dare. She fits against me perfectly, like she’s always belonged exactly here.
She falls back asleep against me, but my mind is too wired to slumber. I still can’t believe that I’m going to be a father. I can’t believe that somehow, despite everything I’ve done in my life, I even deserve this.
