His eyes slide over to me, and he smiles. “I wouldn’t say nervous, but I am excited.”
“I’m a little nervous,” I admit.
“Yeah? What about?”
Blowing out a breath, I run my fingers through my hair. “I don’t really know, to be honest. I read there’s a possibility we could hear the heartbeat during the ultrasound, and that just feels soreal. It’s not just some blob on a tiny screen, but a reality that’s growing inside of me.” Graham doesn’t look at me like he thinks I’m silly or ridiculous, which I appreciate, because I feel pretty silly. “And I don’t know…there’s also a small part of me—and I don’t mean to get morbid—that’s nervous because what if there isn’t a heartbeat? What if he or she isn’t growing? And I already feel so connected to them.”
Graham’s gaze softens. “I don’t think that’s the case.” He starts to say “Sunny” but stops himself. I wish I’d never made that stupid rule, because I think hearing that nickname would calm some of my jitters.
Dr. Mitchell walks in before either of us can say anything else. Her smile is wide and genuine as she sits down. “Hi, Charley,” she greets. “How are we doing? How’s the nausea been?”
“So much better! Thank you.”
“Glad to hear it.” Glancing to my left, she says, “Hi, Graham. It’s nice to see you. How are you and miss Ellie Mae?”
“It’s nice to see you too,” he replies. “We’re great, thanks for asking.”
Given that Dr. Mitchell’s an OB/GYN, I’m going to take a wild guess that she was Megan’s doctor, and probably the one who delivered their daughter. I wonder what she thinks about Graham being the father of this baby. I also wonder, not for the first time, what people around town are going to think. Not that I care what other people think about me; I’m a tattooed and pierced y’allternative girl living in the Deep South. I’m used to judgy looks and unwanted opinions. But I do wonder howGraham’s going to feel once news gets around town about the baby.
When news about the affair came out, it was all anybody could talk about. I swear, I couldn’t walk down Main Street without hearing the gossipy old ladies. It went on for weeks. Then, when she passed, the affair resurfaced. If I felt like I couldn’t escape it, I can’t imagine how Graham felt. And Iknowpeople are going to have something to say about this, especially considering we aren’t together.
My mind goes back to what I said to Graham the other night, about how he’s a good man. I’m still kicking myself in the ass for it. I can’t shake the feeling that I crossed a line. It’s not my place to badmouth Megan, nor is it my place to have an opinion about their marriage. I shouldn’t have said anything, but I’m curious. And maybe a little nosy. There’re a couple pictures of Ellie Mae with her mom hanging up in her room, but other than that, there’s no trace of Megan anywhere. Granted, I know she didn’t live at his current house, but I want to know all the things. About her—the side he didn’t share with his sisters—about their marriage, about what went on after he found out about her affair. And I want to know his true, deep-down thoughts and feelings about it. Like, before she died, did he plan to divorce her? Does he miss her? But none of that is any of my business, no matter how annoying that is.
Shoving all of it out of my mind, I focus on the appointment. The first half goes fine, but by the time we get to the second part of it, my palms are sweaty. Dr. Mitchell brings in the machine while I lie down on the bed and pull up my shirt. Graham stands beside me, and as our eyes meet, a spark of something electric yet oddly calming races down my spine.
Once she squirts a glob of gel onto my stomach, she then moves the probe around for a minute, looking at the screen in front of her. Then we hear it.A heartbeat. And I swear myown heart skips a beat. It’s a rapid, whooshing sound, almost like galloping horses. Graham slips his warm, calloused hand in mine, and as I turn my head to meet his gaze again, my eyes fill up with moisture. At this point, I’m not surprised. Apparently, I’m a crier now.
“That’s our baby,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. My chest swells as goose bumps cover my arms. This is real. A little life is inside of me, one that will continue to grow until they’re a living, breathing being in the world.Holy shit.
Graham’s eyes are just as misty as mine as he smiles down at me, squeezing my hand. “That’s our baby,” he repeats.
Questions flood my mind and make me all the more excited. Will they have my black hair, or their daddy’s light brown? My blue eyes or his dark green? Will they look like their sister, despite not sharing a mom? What will it feel like holding them in my arms? Will being a mother come naturally to me? My heart is in my throat as I envision what my life is going to look like six months from now—whatourlife is going to look like. Me nursing this baby, watching Ellie Mae run around with the dog while Graham sits next to me or plays with her. I think about what it’s going to be like watching Graham care for this baby, and how it’s going to feel watching Ellie Mae be a big sister.
Afamily, that’s what we’re going to be.
Even if it won’t look exactly like I had hoped it would, that realization brings up one of the loudest questions of them all… How am I supposed to make it through this pregnancy, and then witness Graham loving on our baby, without falling hopelessly in love with him all over again?
It’s almost like I’m setting myself up for failure—or heartbreak. Getting over him in high school, and then again in college, was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Coming to terms with the fact that we’d never be what I wanted us to be sucked, and then watching him get married to somebody elsewas painful. I can’t go through that again—I don’t want to—not with what’s at stake now. My life is about to be flipped upside down, and I can’t have Graham in the back of my mind at every turn. I can’t wonder what he feels when he looks at me. I can’t hope that he’ll fall in love with me. And I can’t pretend feelings are there when they aren’t. Having drunk sex one time doesn’t mean he cares about me like that, just like how spending time together and fooling around in high school doesn’t mean he loved me.
I don’t know how, but I have to keep myself in line. I need to keep it friendly. For our baby, for Ellie Mae, but also for my sanity. Sure, Graham may be attracted to me, and yeah, of course, he cares about me, but not in the way I’ve always dreamed he would. I came to terms years ago that we couldn’t be together, and it’s about damn time I remind myself of that, because hoping for anything more is only going to end with me getting hurt, and I don’t have time to be brokenhearted.
This is about our baby. It’s about raising them together, as a family.
Nothing more.
When the appointment is over, Dr. Mitchell gives us a little ultrasound picture to keep, and I stare at it the whole car ride home, emotion pricking the back of my eyes. Once we get home, I plan to make a beeline to my room and nap before I have to get some studying done, but I barely make it halfway down the hall before Graham’s voice stops me.
“I’m making some food,” he calls out. “You hungry?”
As if on cue, my stomach rumbles, loud enough that Graham can probably hear it at the end of the hall. “I could eat,” I say. “What’re you making?”
“What do you want?”
I follow him into the kitchen. Sitting on one of the bar stools, I glance at the boxes on top of the fridge. “Can I have some Fruit Loops?”
“You want…cereal?” he asks. “Seriously?”
“Uh,yeah.” Graham’s putting away the stuff he bought at the farmers’ market, and I spot the purple honey. “Oh, and what about that?”
