“I’m glad.”
The moment stretches between us, but the silence is comfortable, full of hope. And when he takes my hand in his, I think maybe Ines was right.
The last twoweeks have been filled with a whirlwind of emotions. I’m lying to Piper and my parents. They don’t know I’m staying with Hayden, and we’re still hiding my pregnancy. Without Nastya, I would’ve lost my mind. She and I see each other a few times a week, taking walks, going to lunch, or hanging out at the penthouse. She’s here for me anytime I need her. Thank God, because I need someone to help me decipher my mix of feelings surrounding Hayden.
We flirt, sure. We have breakfast together most mornings and watch TV before bed. He’s caring and thoughtful, and he brings me flowers almost every day. I haven’t pushed for more, too worried his rejection would break me completely. He hasn’t taken the initiative either. So except for the little kiss we shared in Santi’s room on his birthday, nothing has changed between us.
Sometimes, when my hormones get the best of me, I think about going back to my apartment and living on my own. But the media storm hasn’t passed. If anything, it’s only gotten louder after the label announced the release date for the new album on Monday. Maybe then, three weeks from now, it’ll die down, though I doubt it. Hayden is barely home. He spends his days preparing and doing interviews. Day by day, he looks more and more like his old self. It’s a relief, but there’s still a dark side stopping me from being completely happy. It’s hard to let go of fear and apprehension with all the theories circulating: about the album, about the songs, but also about the identity of the woman carrying Hayden’s child.
Last night, when I was doomscrolling before bed, I saw a post speculating Hayden’s ex-girlfriend, an Argentinian actress, is his baby mama. The comments made me nauseous. Some were mean, but many were hoping it was true because “she’s as stunning as he is. Their baby would be the most beautiful child in the world.”
Naturally, I woke up grumpier than usual this morning, just in time for my eleven-week appointment.
I leave earlier than Hayden and slip into the taxi, easily avoiding the crowd. When a familiar wave of nausea hits, I focus on breathing through it. It’s better if I don’t think about the media circus surrounding his life.
Dr. Bell greets me warmly when she enters the room. Then, she gets down to business, asking me pertinent questions. I rattle off the usual: Yes, I’m taking my meds every morning on an empty stomach. Yes, sometimes I have morning sickness. Yes, overall, I feel well; I’m only slightly more tired than usual. Yes, my mood swings like a pendulum, and it gets on my nerves.
Once she’s done with her questions, I ask one of mine. Maybe it’ssilly, but I’ve been wanting to ask since my first visit. “And…um, what about sex? Is it safe?”
“Yes.” She nods. “Unless we discover specific complications later, intimacy is perfectly safe. Listen to your body, communicate with your partner. Your pregnancy is progressing well.”
I nod, relief loosening the knots inside my chest. Though the word “partner” leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
Hayden is not my partner. Period.
He arrives right as that thought hits me, dressed in a white tee and dark blue jeans. Lately, he’s been dressing in lighter, brighter colors. For a long time, he wore nothing but black.
A little out of breath, his hat in his hand, he smiles. “Sorry. Stuck in traffic.” He stops beside the exam table, studying me. “Is everything okay?”
I nod. He was on a call when I left. Honestly, I wasn’t sure he’d make it, but he did. For me, for us. He’s here, just like he promised.
“Good timing, Mr. Hale.” Dr. Bell smiles. “Ready to listen to your baby’s heartbeat?”
“Yes.” I sneak a glance at him.
His jaw is tight, and his shoulders are tense in a way I don’t understand.
When she presses the Doppler to my belly, the room fills with the sound of a galloping heartbeat. My chest nearly bursts with happiness. Somehow, this moment makes our situation real. As if the tests, the bloodwork weren’t enough to make me believe, I can hear it: there’s a life inside me. A little girl or a little boy. I don’t care, honestly. I’m just happy they’re mine.
Hayden’s apprehension has vanished. His dark green eyes shine brightly, his lips parted in wonder. I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but he looks as though his universe has shifted, like this moment has made my pregnancy and his impending fatherhood real for him too. I grasp his hand and squeeze it, silently letting him know I’m here. He squeezes back then lifts my hand and presses it to his lips.
“Heartbeat is strong. About one hundred sixty-five beats per minute, which is right where we want it to be,” Dr. Bell saysas she shuts off the Doppler. “We’ll see you again at around fifteen weeks. At that visit, we’ll check your thyroid levels again.”
Hayden clears his throat. “When do we find out the baby’s sex?”
Dr. Bell smiles. “We’ll do the anatomy scan somewhere between eighteen and twenty weeks. That’s when you can find out the baby’s sex if you’d like.”
“Thank you.” He nods, his cheeks reddening slightly.
“For now, Ms. Evans, keep taking your medication and vitamins,” the doctor says, “and call me if you notice anything unusual. You’re doing really well.”
When Hayden and I leave the clinic, he puts his hat on, but he doesn’t hurry to the car. Instead, he turns to face me, smiling. “How about a little walk through Central Park?”
I blink. “But the paparazzi?—”
“We’ll be careful. I’ve got you. I promise.” He takes a step closer and grasps my hands. “I hate that we can never go out together. While I love hanging out with you at home, I kind of feel like Hades keeping you locked in the Underworld.”
Laughter bubbles out of me. “A Hades and Persephone reference? Really?”
