And if she does, then I’m willing to risk it all for her.
Chapter 38
Teagan
“How was that, Coach?” Zoey asks once her floor routine music cuts out.
“You tell me,” I turn the question on her.
She twists her lips to the side as she folds her hands together. “I think overall my routine is great. My stunts are perfectly placed and I’m executing them well.”
“But…”
She groans. “I didn’t stick the landing off of my double salto with a twist.”
“Nope, you took three steps. The judges will notice that.”
“I know. Even if my stunt is performed perfectly, the landing is what counts.”
“Exactly. So let’s focus on breaking that stunt down next week and we’re going to focus on controlling every aspect of it,” I explain, then soften my tone. “You’re doing a great job. This stunt isn’t easy.”
“Pfft,” Zoey snorts. “Coming from you who did it perfectly at the last Olympics, followed by a double triple. You made it look easy.”
“That’s because I practiced a zillion times. You’ll get there.”
“Thanks, Coach.” Zoey smiles at me while removing her ponytail and letting her black curls down. “Are you going to compete again?” she asks because the girl doesn’t understand what it means to have a filter. Can’t say I blame her because she reminds me so much of myself.
“I am. I’m due in January, so I’ll have enough time to recover and get ready for the following summer.”
“I’ll be rooting for you.” She beams, never once doubting me.
“And I’ll be doing the same for you when it’s your turn.” I smile back at her, then we say goodbye and I make my way to my office.
With an audible sigh, I sink into my chair. You would think training as a professional athlete my entire life, that carrying a baby would be a piece of cake. And yet, I’ve never been more tired in my life.
My eyes land on my desk calendar that reads August 25, meaning there are just less than five months left until my due date. I had my sixteen-week checkup with Dr. Caruso yesterday, and she said everything’s looking as it should.
The confirmation that my baby is healthy never fails to make me elated beyond belief. Knowing that I’m doing something right by taking my prenatal pills, eating healthy, and resting makes me more proud of myself than I think I’ve ever been.
While it’s sometimes weird seeing how my body is changing, I know it’s needed in order to ensure our baby is healthy and thriving.
Quentin couldn’t be there due to a mandatory pitchers meeting, and he was beside himself over it. He excused himself to the washroom for a few minutes so we could video chat during the ultrasound, and when the doctor said the baby was finally in position to tell the gender, we couldn’t have been more excited. I made sure to tell her that we didn’t want to know, so she put it in an envelopefor us, and I dropped it off at a local bakery so that we could find out together.
On my way home tonight, I pick up the gender reveal cake and head home to find out together with Quentin.
I unlock the front door, the melody of my favorite Sleep Token song filtering throughout the house. A warm, fuzzy feeling blooms in my chest every time I catch him listening to the music I like. It’s as if he’s trying to understand me through music, and fuck, that thought alone could make me sob.
Dropping the cake box gently on the counter, I look around in search of him.
I decide to check upstairs, finding the light on in what will be Blueberry’s room. Tiptoeing, doing my best not to make a sound, I peek into the room and find Quentin on the floor, putting together the crib.
It’s reminiscent of the time he built the crib in my apartment, and it feels like ages ago. So much has happened since then, between us, that it feels like that truly is from a past life.
And seeing the crib half-built makes everything feel surreal again. We’re having a baby together.
Not only that, the father of my baby is a good man. Hell, this man is grinning from ear to ear as he screws a screw in, completely in his own world because he hasn’t noticed I came home.
“Hi,” I call out to him as I lean on the frame of the open door.
