I make sure everything is picked up in the kitchen before heading for the front door and stepping outside. The night air is warm as I take off toward my house, leaving my heart behind, because if there’s one thing I know for certain, Charli Miller owns mine.
“Charlotte Miller?”
We stand up and walk toward the owner of the voice. An older woman with a pleasant smile greets us. “Date of birth?”
Charli replies, and we’re led to the back hallway into a little alcove where they go over some of Charli’s medical history. She takes her weight, blood pressure, pulse oxygen, and then hands her a small plastic cup. “Every appointment we’ll do this, including checking your sugars from a urine test. The restroom is across the hall, and there’s a little box in the wall to place it. When you’re all done, come to exam room number two.”
Charli nods as she moves across the hall, leaving me to follow the nurse to room two.
I step inside the room and look around. There are some diagrams of the female reproductive system framed on the wall, as well as some sort of 3-D model sitting on the counter. I try not to stare, but I admit, I’m a little curious. I did enough research online to know the basics, but to see the graphic in front of me, demonstrating the dilation from one to ten is pretty mind-blowing.
A woman’s body is fucking amazing.
The door opens and I make sure to step toward the corner of the room, giving Charli plenty of space. She’s been very quiet since I picked her up. Hell, since last night when I left. She barely spoke to me when I stopped by after my morning run, and her texts were very short and to the point. And for the drive here, she seemed lost in her own thoughts, preferring to listen to the radio instead of engaging in the conversation I tried to start with her.
I’ll let her have some space—this is a big day, after all—but eventually, we’re gonna have this out. If she wants to push me away and label us as co-parents and that’s it, then fine, but I refuse to be a booty call just for convenience. It’s not fair to either one of us, and I know my heart won’t survive it.
The nurse and Charli talk about how her pregnancy is going so far, making notes for the doctor. Then, she gives us the date we’ve been anxiously awaiting. “Looks like your due date is January twentieth.”
My heart is beating wildly in my chest.
“Go ahead and strip down below the waist, and put on this gown. Dr. Greene should be in shortly,” the nurse states before exiting the room, gently closing the door behind her.
“Wow, January twentieth,” I say, still trying to wrap my head around it. Our baby will arrive about a month after Christmas.
What a gift.
Charli nods, looking around the room at the posters. “First time I’ve ever been inside one of these rooms with someone of the opposite sex.”
I snort, hands shoved in my pockets. “First time I’ve been in one of these rooms ever.”
“Well, get used to it. You’ll be in it a lot.” She grabs the paper gown and starts undressing.
Giving her as much privacy as I can, considering we’re in a small room together, I avert my gaze and stare at the very detailed diagram of a woman’s body. Probably not the best place to look, but I’m certain Charli wouldn’t appreciate me staring at her right now, so I keep my attention there.
“All done,” she says, climbing up on the exam table and covering her legs with the paper as best as she can. My eyes move to her flat abdomen, to the reason I’ll be in these types of rooms for a while.
“Knock, knock,” Dr. Greene says, pushing open the door and stepping inside.
Charli’s OB is a woman in her forties, with dark hair and eyes and a motherly smile. “Hi, Charli, how are you feeling?”
“Not bad right now,” Charli replies.
“Uh oh. Morning sickness?” Dr. Greene asks, giving her full attention to her patient.
I take a seat in the chair as Charli explains about her morning sickness. “I’m very fortunate it’s only happening first thing in the morning.”
“Very true, and as you get closer to the end of the first trimester, it should taper off. If not, or if it increases for you, let me know. We can prescribe you something for the nausea and sickness.”
She nods, and they dive into talking about other symptoms and what to expect in the coming months. I sit here, taking it all in. A lot of what the doctor is saying are things I read on theinternet already, but there are a few things I didn’t know yet. I was going to drop by the bookstore and grab a book, but I figured in a place like Cooper Town, that would throw immediate red flags, and everyone would be talking about why I was buying pregnancy and parenting books.
Turning her attention to me, she introduces herself. “I’m Dr. Greene.”
“Quinn Garrison,” I reply, shaking her outstretched hand.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
