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Nova grabs my hand and we follow the nurse back.

Nova gets checked over and then we’re left to wait for the doctor.

The room is thick with our anticipation. Nova reaches for my hand and I place it in hers. Her skin is slightly clammy and she gives me a nervous smile.

Finally, after five hundred fucking years, her doctor makes it into the room.

“Hi, Nova, how are you?” she asks, washing her hands in the sink in the room.

“I’m doing good. Feeling the baby move some, but nothing big yet.”

Dr. Illias smiles kindly. “That’s great. You’ll probably feel bigger movements soon.”

She sits down on her stool and rolls it over to the ultrasound monitor.

She places a piece of paper into the band of Nova’s pants to keep the goo from getting on her clothes.

She squirts the goo on her stomach next and pulls out the wand.

The baby pops up on the screen and I feel my heart clench knowing that’s my son or daughter. The baby kicks its legs around wildly, like it can’t sit still. Dr. Illias takes some measurements before getting down to business.

“All right, Mom and Dad, are you ready to know the gender?”

“Yes, please.” Nova nods enthusiastically.

“Ready,” I declare, leaning forward, Nova’s hand still clasped in mine.

She points to the screen. “That right there tells me without a doubt you’re having a boy.”

Nova bursts into tears. “We’re having a son.”

I don’t have words, so I do what I do best.

I kiss the shit out of her.

I stand back and appraise my handiwork.

“What do you think?” I ask Nova.

“It’s perfect.” She smiles, looking around the small nursery.

It’s been two weeks since we found out we’re having a son. It took Nova that long to decide on a paint color for the nursery. Not wanting to do a traditional blue, she decided on a gray color.

“I want to paint a mural,” she muses, looking around. “Maybe a mountain or …” she trails off.

“Wait a fucking minute, you paint?” Considering we’ve been together for a long fucking time now, there isn’t much I don’t know, so I’m shocked.

“I used to when I was in high school and middle school. I’m sure it’s like riding a bike, it has to come back to you, right?”

I shrug. “How the fuck would I know?”

“Let’s go shop for the nursery and pick up some paint for the mural while we’re out.”

“Whatever you say, you’re the boss.”

I change my clothes since they’re covered in paint and wash up as best I can, but some paint still speckles my arms and it’s caked under my nails. Fuck, it’s even splattered in my hair. Whatever.

I drive my truck to the store, since we have more room to haul stuff if we decide to buy anything.

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