“There we go,” she said, adjusting the wand and clicking different things. “Baby’s looking good. Let’s get that heartbeat for you.”
She turned up the volume, and the room filled with the rapid thump-thump-thump-thump of his child’s heart. Rolani gripped Kennedi’s hand tighter, his other hand coming up to cover his mouth. His eyes burned, vision blurring, and he didn’t even try to stop it.
“Ro?” Kennedi’s voice was soft, concerned.
He couldn’t speak. His head moved slowly, side to side, eyes locked on that screen, on that perfect, impossible sound. He couldn’t tell her he never thought this day would come.
“That’s a strong heartbeat,” Dr. Khalifa said, smiling at him. “About 150 beats per minute. Right where we want it.”
That was his son. Or daughter.
That was his blood.
He opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
Dr. Khalifa kept talking, pointing at the screen, explaining measurements and angles, but he barely heard her. The only thing that registered was the rhythm filling the room.
Thump-thump-thump-thump.
He swallowed hard.
Then, finally?—
“Is everything okay?” His voice came out wrecked, barely above a whisper. “With our baby?”
“Perfect. Growing right on track. No concerns at all.” Dr. Khalifa moved the wand, getting different angles. “Would you like to know the sex?”
Rolani looked over at Kennedi, and she was already watching him, tears in her own eyes.
“You waited for me,” he said quietly.
“Of course I did. I never planned on doing this alone forever.”
He stood up and kissed her forehead. “Yeah. We wanna know.”
Dr. Khalifa adjusted the wand again, angling for a clearer view. “Let’s see... okay, there we go.” She looked up at them, smile widening. “Congratulations. It looks like you’re having a baby boy.”
Rolani’s legs gave out then. He dropped into the chair beside the table, head in his hands.
A boy.
“Rolani,” Kennedi whispered, reaching for him. “Baby, are you okay?”
He stood back up, cupped her face in both hands, and kissed her—deep, grateful, overwhelmed. When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead to hers.
“We’re having a baby boy,” he said, voice breaking on every word.
“We are,” she whispered back.
Dr. Khalifa printed out pictures, gave them instructions for the next appointment, answered Rolani’s fifty questions about what Kennedi should eat, what she should avoid, and what he could do to help. By the time they left, he was carrying the ultrasound photos like they were sacred texts, and Kennedi was watching him with this look that made him feel ten feet tall.
In the parking lot, he opened her door but didn’t let her get in yet. He pulled her close, his hand settling on her sides.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“Ken, you ain’t have to do this, and that’s not lost on me. I appreciate you for keeping him.” His thumb brushed across the small swell.
