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We go to the bedroom after I properly dispose of the test. Ian pulls me close. One arm is under my neck, bent so his hand can run through my hair, and his other is on my stomach. My eyes drift closed. I’m so tired. This nap is going to be perfect.
“Babe?” Ian whispers just as I’m dozing off.
“Hmm?”
He keeps his voice low, but it’s thick with emotion as he speaks. “I can’t tell you how fucking happy I am right now.” He kisses my forehead, letting his lips rest there. “I just…fuck, gorgeous. I have no words.”
“We don’t need any, Ian.”
“Don’t let me fuck this up.”
At this, I prop myself up on an elbow to look at him. “What? How would you fuck it up? You’re the strong one—”
“I mean with Savannah and the baby.”
“Don’t you remember what I told you in the beginning? When you said that you didn’t know how to be a father? I told you that I didn’t know how to be a mother and that I’d been winging it. That’s all you can do, Ian. It’s going to be different because it’ll be a baby, but lucky you, I’ve done this before, so I can promise that we’ll be fine.”
He nods. The worry lessens, and I hope I can soon make it go away completely. Ian takes his role very seriously. Where I sometimes worry about us unnecessarily, he worries about that unnecessarily. “When do you think we’ll have little Rhett?”
“I don’t know. Depends on how far along I am.” Last time, I was about six weeks when I started feeling sick, though I didn’t go to the doctor until I was eight weeks along. I quickly do some math based on that. “Maybe October? If this pregnancy is the same as before.”
“New season. New baby.”
“You’re supposed to be napping,” I remind him. “And I would like to nap, too.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. You nap. I’ll hold you.”
I lie back down, resting my head on his shoulder, and it takes all of two minutes for me to fall asleep.
When I wake up, Ian is gone. There’s a note on his pillow where he basically said he didn’t want to wake me just to say goodbye. He also said that if I was feeling any better, he’d love for me to come to the game tonight. I check my phone for the time. I’ve slept for a long time. If I leave now, I’ll probably make it right after puck drop. I find my jersey, slip it on, and head to the arena.
The box seems unusually full tonight, but I excuse my way over to Lizzy, Meredith, and Sylvia.
“Look who it is!” Sylvia exclaims. “How have you been? What’s new in—Oh my god, you’re engaged!” She grabs my hand and yanks me closer to her so she can examine the ring.
“You really don’t miss anything, do you?”
“Not a chance,” she mutters. Lizzy and Meredith step closer to peer at it as well.
“Congrats,” Lizzy says.
“Yes, congrats,” Meredith adds.
“Congrats. The ring is pretty,” Sylvia says. “How did he propose? Was it romantic? When did he propose? When is the wedding?”
Lizzy laughs. “If you’d shut up, she might tell you.”
“Well, we were talking about our future and he asked me. We’re getting married soon after the season ends.”
Sylvia frowns. “That is not nearly enough details, but I should have expected as much. Let’s sit and watch the game.” I end up between Sylvia and Meredith with Lizzy on the other side of Meredith. Sylvia leans forward to ask Meredith, “Do you know how EJ’s doing?”
“You mean you don’t?” she teases with a laugh.
“EJ is the one who has the newborn, right?” I ask.
“Yeah. Poor guy is exhausted all the time and his mom has basically moved in to help him. I’ve offered to help his mom when I can, but EJ isn’t accepting help from anyone but his mom it seems.”
“You’ll soon be busy anyway,” Lizzy says. Leaning forward, she says to me, “She’s a famous retired pro tennis player. You’re sitting next to tennis royalty. She’s about to start offering private lessons.”
