This ultrasound marks the halfway point. I’m no longer newly pregnant. We don’t have nine months to process all this.
My breathing begins to increase as the panic starts to hit.
We’re going to have a baby. A real-life person who is going to need us for everything, and we…we’re expected to know what we’re doing.
“Whoa, what’s going on?” Everett asks, inviting himself into my room when he sees what I can only assume is a look of utter fear on my face.
“We’re going to be parents,” I blurt, as if this is news to us.
“Uh, yeah, sweetheart. That’s kind of where this is going,” he says with a smirk.
He looks so calm, so relaxed. I don’t know why I’m surprised; he’s been the same at every one of my appointments so far.
“Why are you always so calm?” I snap, needing him to get on the panic train with me.
He chuckles, but there’s little humor in it.
“Trust me, I’m not calm. I’ve just perfected the look over the years. If I show fear on the ice, I’m fucked. I’m the one who should be feared, not the other way around.”
His words cause another part of me to be beating right along with my heart.
Damn, I can’t wait to see him back on the ice, being all commanding and dominant.
But also…that’ll mean he’s constantly leaving, and I can’t imagine anything worse.
“Underneath this,” he says, waving his hand toward his stoic face, “I’m a fucking mess.”
I shake my head. “It’s okay to be nervous.” I’m not sure if I’m saying it more for him or myself.
“I’m not nervous. I’m terrified. I’ve gone from barely being able to look after myself, to having to look after you, and then—” He presses his hand to my stomach.
“I never asked you to look after me,” I argue.
His eyes lift from my stomach to stare into mine. “No, you never asked anything of me than to be present for our child. And that’s one of the biggest reasons why I want to look after you. You’re not here out of some fucked-up illusion that you’re going to get something out of me and our relationship; you’re here because you want to be.”
“Or because my apartment was basically a dump.”
“Besides the point,” he laughs. “What we’re going, despite all the noise, feels right, don’t you think?”
I nod, because there isn’t any other way I can respond with the size of the lump that’s crawled up my throat.
Being here with Everett feels…fuck, it feels like home, and that’s just as terrifying as the baby I’m growing because of how much it’s going to hurt when it’s all over.
“However fucked up, we’re a little family. And thanks to this little one, we always will be.”
My gaze drops to where his hand still rests on my stomach.
Family.
It sounds too good to be true. But that’s how I feel when I’m with Everett.
“What if you—” I cut my words off, afraid to finish the thought.
“What if I what, sweetheart?”
“What if you meet someone else and want a family with them?”
His eyes bounce between mine, and I swear I can see some pain within them.
