Page 27

“How are you feeling?” she asks, sitting on the stool and looking over my vitals and the nurse’s notes in my chart. My fear from before resurfaces but I shove it back down as I rub my hand over the top of my belly and nod.

“I’m feeling all right.”

She hums to herself in response, flipping through a couple of pages. “Any pain?”

“My whole body hurts from what happened to me but nothing with the baby.”

“Good,” she replies, nodding as she turns to look at me. “And bleeding?”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

“Perfect. You ready to see your baby then?” Her gaze snaps to Diego, who looks like he might throw up, before coming back to me. I nod, keeping Diego in my line of sight as I fight back a smile. I know I showed him the ultrasound just a couple of days ago but that doesn’t compare to seeing it in real time, on the screen, and I’ve already taken so much from him in this pregnancy that I can’t wait to watch him experience this. Dr. Deaton steps up to the side of the bed and moves the ultrasound machine into position. “Lie back and lift your shirt for me, please.”

I do as instructed, lying back on the exam table and pulling my shirt back as I glance over at Diego. He keeps looking between my stomach and the ultrasound machine and he shoves his hands in his pockets like he doesn’t know what to do with them before pulling them out again and crossing them over his chest. Licking his lips, he shifts his weight from one foot to the other and his eyes find mine.

“Go ahead and stand on her other side so you can see clearly, Mr. Rodriguez,” Dr. Deaton says. Diego steps up beside me and shoves his hands in his pockets again, staring at the screen intently as Dr. Deaton squirts some gel on my belly and presses the wand to my skin. The grainy image of our baby appears on the screen but instead of watching our little peanut like I normally do, I can’t take my eyes off of Diego. His body stills and his eyes widen slowly, taking in the image of our child as the hint of a smile teases his lips. He sucks in a breath and that hint turns into a full-blown grin as he looks down and meets my eyes. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he uses his thumb to brush a stray lock of hair from my face as he beams at me and my skin tingles as I struggle to drag a breath into my lungs.

Fuck.

“Do we want to know the sex now?” Dr. Deaton asks, her tone coy, pulling my attention back to the screen but my head feels a little foggy. I blow out a breath in an effort to clear my mind and she arches a brow, waiting for my answer. She knows that I’ve been dying to know the sex of the baby but that I wanted to wait until Diego could be here with me. I turn back to him, letting him be in control because I’ve already made so many decisions without him. He grabs my hand off of the table and nods.

“Yeah, we do.”

Dr. Deaton grins. “I was hoping you would say that. This little one made sure I got a look at the goods the last time you were here, Izzy, so I can confidently say that you are having a little boy.”

Laughter bubbles out of me and tears sting my eyes as I look over at Diego in a daze and his answering smile is brilliant as he pulls my hand up and presses his lips to my skin before turning back to the screen to look at our son. All of the pain, everything I’ve ever been through that led me to this moment flashes through my mind and the fact that I’m here, happier than I’ve ever been with a baby boy on the way, doesn’t feel real. In some of my darkest moments, when I couldn’t even admit to myself that I wanted this because wanting something I would never get would be too painful, a part of me hoped that one day I might have another chance to be a mother. The voice was small and so damn quiet, easily ignored or silenced, but it was there, begging me to fight another day. And I’m so glad that I did.

A galloping sound fills the room, pulling my focus back to the ultrasound machine and our sweet baby. “And there is the heartbeat - nice and strong.”

“Wow,” Diego whispers, his voice so soft, a direct contrast to the side of himself he usually shows the world, a side I got the pleasure of seeing pieces of during our weekend together and my heart feels so full. Looking up at Diego, I know that he will love our son with everything he’s got and be the very best father he can be. Dr. Deaton prints off a few shots of our little guy and I squeeze his hand, hoping he’ll understand how sorry I am and how lucky I feel to be doing this with him. His eyes meet mine, warm and full of wonder, and his smile is so pure that my chest aches over the fact that I didn’t tell him sooner.

I’m such a damn idiot.

“Here you go, you two.” Dr. Deaton hands our photos to Diego and he releases my hand to take them, moving back to the chair against the wall. He’s completely absorbed, lost in the images of our baby boy, as Dr. Deaton wipes the gel from my belly and helps me sit up.

“So, everything looked good. Baby is strong and healthy but I still want you to take it easy over the next couple weeks. If you feel any cramping or you start to bleed, you get to the hospital and call me right away. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, we are,” Diego answers before I can say anything. “I’ll take good care of them, Doc.”

She chuckles. “Of that I have no doubt.”

“Can I go back to work?” I ask, cutting into their conversation. I appreciate Diego’s concern for me and our child but I won’t be shut out of anything and I sure as hell won’t be talked over. Dr. Deaton turns to me and purses her lips as she considers my request. Finally, she nods.

“You can do the radio show provided that you follow doctor’s orders and take it easy, like I’ve said. You’ve been through something traumatic and I don’t want you overdoing it.”

I nod. “You got it.”

“Good,” she says, grinning, as she swipes my file off of the table and gestures to the door. “In that case, you’re free to go. I want to see you back in a month though. Just make an appointment at the front desk.”

I agree and hop off of the table before Diego ushers me out of the room, the ultrasound pictures tucked securely in the inner pocket of his cut and I have a sneaking suspicion that I won’t be getting any of those for myself. But I can’t blame him for that. After we schedule my next appointment with the receptionist, he places his hand at the small of my back again and leads me outside as he scans the parking lot and my stomach drops. For a brief second, I forgot all about the trouble I’m in and the danger surrounding me but it’s back now, in full force. Diego walks me to the passenger side of the truck, still scanning the lot, and I reach for the door handle. He grabs my arm, stopping me, and my heart jumps into my throat as he pulls me back but before I can say anything, he wraps his arms around me and I stumble as he drags me into a hug.

What the hell?

My head swims but my body melts into him and I grip the back of his cut as he breathes me in, almost like he’s memorizing the moment. Every nerve ending in my body sings from his touch and I scowl into his chest, trying to wrap my mind around his actions but it’s useless.

I can’t think.

I can’t speak.