“Clearly not a false pregnancy test,” he quips.
Slowly rising, I see him with his hands on his hips which brings my attention to his belt with his cuffs. Ah, those were some good times. I snap out of it when I see he is still adjusting to the news I just shared.
Stepping forward, I stop when I realize my instinct is to touch him in comfort. I’m not sure the protocol in this situation.
“We weren’t careful.”
“Like at all,” he intones in agreement.
“Exactly, so here we are.” And we should probably question why we were easily so careless.
An unnerving silence wraps around us, and all I can hear is a bird in the distance, an eagle perhaps.
His eyes are fixed on me and then drop to my stomach then zip back to my face. He steps back and laughs bitterly to himself. “Unbelievable.”
I don’t want him to say it out loud. The irony that he wanted a family, and I wasn’t ready then. Now, when we are divorced, here I am telling him I’m pregnant. What he always dreamed of but now the wrong time.
“So, we’re doing this. Having a baby.” The tail end of his sentence almost sounds like a question, and I’m disappointed that he thinks he needs to ask if I’m choosing another path.
“Yes,” I confirm. “We’re doing this.” I don’t even bother saying to him that he has an out and I’ll do it alone, because I know him inside out and he wouldn’t run away from this. Not in a million years.
The back of his curled finger wipes his upper lip as he contemplates. “Sorry, but if memory serves me correctly, you didn’t want kids yet.”
My mouth parts open from his scornful words. “Well, things change. People change.” I have a very different view now, and I’m ready to be a mom.
He glances off into the distance right before he steps forward, closing our space, and his hands land on my hips, causing my breath to hitch from the surprise of his sudden touch. My eyes search his and see a man who is fully fueled with his dominant side because of a switch that was flipped ten seconds ago. He walks me back two steps until my back is against the car. In another time, he would’ve flipped me around and cuffed me in bed.
But now? He’s unreadable.
Even more so when his hands move gently, sliding to the side and catching the edge of my tank top to lift just an inch. The feeling of his warm palms rest against my belly, pressing firmly. A tremor runs through me that is purely due to his touch; my body is sensitive to him.
“We’re having a baby,” he rasps.
My heart pinches with relief and joy, even though we’re now in a complex dynamic.
“Yes,” I whisper.
His eyes travel between his hands on my belly and my eyes. The smile creeping up on his face could warm anybody’s soul.
His entire face brightens, causing my body to release relief and my own elation with this news.
A baby.
Finally, for the first time in days since I started to suspect I was pregnant, I can stop for a moment to let excitement kick in.
“Are you feeling okay? Who else knows? Do you have cravings? When is the doctor’s appointment?” he lists and begins to pat my arms, shoulders, and stomach, because clearly he feels he now went to medical school and can examine me. It’s endearing, to be honest.
“Slow down.” I grin. “Doctor’s appointment is in a few weeks. For a few days now, I can only eat crackers now and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches sometimes. I don’t think that’s a craving, though. It’s more my nausea is really bad, as you can see.” I gesture down to the ground at our side a few feet away, and we both cringe at the sight of my stomach contents before bringing our gaze back to one another.
“You’re throwing up a lot?”
I puff my cheeks before scoffing a laugh. “You could say that again. It’s normal. Still, it’s how I kind of figured that, well…” I point to myself, up and down. “I’m pregnant.”
“Who else knows?”
“Bella. By chance, really. She came into my room when the test was on the floor. I threw up in her presence too, in case you’re wondering.”
He brushes his fingers across his lips as he seems to be contemplating something, and his face turns stoic.
