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Because we will get past it.
I comb my fingers through his hair—slow and gentle. Over and over, without a word spoken. Little by little, he leans into my touch. Closes his eyes, then slowly spins the chair until he faces me. Places a hand on my hip, then the other, and pulls me into him. Rests his forehead on my belly and draws in ragged breaths.
“Don’t ask me how, but I know this baby isn’t mine. But taking a test, having some lab run my DNA against an unborn baby’s sample, terrifies me more than anything.” His voice trembles as he hugs me closer.
Fingers still in his hair, I continue to comb through his locks and soothe him—and me—the best I can. “I believe you. This letter… anyone receiving this would be nervous as hell. But we’ll get through this.”
Slowly, he leans back and lifts his eyes until they hold mine prisoner. Red veins crowd the whites of his eyes. The usual sparkle in his irises is absent. “Will you go with me?” Tears well his eyes as he digs his fingers into my hips and awaits my answer.
Seems such a simple question to answer. A short word in response. Weeks ago, my first response would have probably been no. Or that I needed to think it over and get back to him. Not that there is much time, but the me from weeks ago would have made him wait. Possibly until hours before the appointment.
Now, Micah and I are different people. Apart and together. The dynamic of our relationship has changed. Leveled up. It holds power and strength and heart. Isn’t solely based on attraction, but something more powerful. Hidden beneath the surface. Deeper. More profound. Something only he and I see and feel and grasp.
I frame his face with my hands. Brush my thumbs over the slight stubble on his cheeks. Hold his starry, constellation gaze. “Yes.” I bend and press a kiss to his lips. “I’ll go with you.”
“Thank you,” he whispers, then turns into my hand and kisses the center of my palm.
“Anytime.” I press another kiss to his forehead. “Do you want to stay back here tonight? Or be on the floor?”
Unsure how his mood will be around others, I give Micah the option to choose. I would want the choice if our roles were reversed.
“If I stay in here, I’ll drive myself mad.”
“’Kay.” I comb my fingers through his hair again. “Let’s wrap things up in here and then we can both spend tonight on the floor. Sound good?”
“Perfect.” He gives my hips one last squeeze, drops his hands and swivels back to face the desk. “And Peyton?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” I tilt my head at him. “For not running. For agreeing to go with me to the clinic.”
I give him a small half smile. “You’re welcome.” I hold his eyes a beat longer. “Now, get to work, starlight.”
“Yes, ma’am, hellcat.”
