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Charlie’s lips are pressed into a thin line. “Right,” he says, like he doesn’t quite believe me. I can’t say that I blame him for being worried about me following through.
“Would you mind grabbing me a drink of water or something?” I ask Taylor. “It’s really dry in here.”
“Sure thing, babe. We’ll be back in a jiff.”
She takes Charlie’s hand and all but yanks him out of the room, giving me some much-needed privacy for when the doctor shows up a few minutes later.
“How are you feeling, Ms. Spencer?” she asks as she carts in an ultrasound machine.
“A little shaky. Nervous.”
“I totally understand. I’m happy to report that your bloodwork came back normal.”
“So the baby’s fine?”
“We’ll know for sure once we’ve taken a peek under the hood, so to speak. A light amount of spotting is actually more common than most people think.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “And that massive cramp? Isn’t it a bit early for Braxton Hicks contractions?”
“Not necessarily. Sometimes they can pop up during the second trimester, though you’re right in that it’s a bit early. I want to say it’s a fluke, to be honest. Maybe you had something for lunch that didn’t sit right?”
“Maybe.”
“Here, lie back and get comfortable. Let’s check on baby, shall we?”
The jelly she applies to my stomach is cold but quickly forgotten once she presses the ultrasound wand to my stomach. I have a bit of a bump now, but it isn’t outwardly obvious yet. I can easily cover it up with a baggy sweater or loose shirt.
Even though the doctor’s confident that nothing’s wrong, it doesn’t stop my heart from racing as the black and white image pops up on screen. I just want to make sure my child is okay and that nothing’s out of the ordinary.
“There we are,” the doctor says soothingly.
I can easily make out the shape of my baby’s head, the little arms and legs. I can’t help but smile, a warm swell of pride rising in my chest. “They’re okay?”
“Everything looks fine,” she confirms. “It’s a good thing you came in, though. It’s always better to err on the side of caution with this sort of thing.”
Outside the door, a storm of footsteps racing down the hall just outside interrupts our conversation. The commotion is enough to startle the doctor.
“What on Earth—”
“Sir!” someone shouts. “You can’t just barge in here and—”
“Out of my way!”
The last voice sends a shiver down my spine. I’d know it anywhere. In the blink of an eye, Hunter storms into the room. His hair is a windswept mess, his shirt disheveled. I can’t tell if he’s angry or bewildered. He looks just as flustered as I feel.
The second he locks eyes with me, it feels like the rest of the world fades away. The air is sucked out of the room, his presence my only beacon in an endless dark. Whatever anger he might harbor melts away in an instant. He rushes to my bedside and immediately takes my hand in his, kissing the back of my fingers.
“Are you alright? What happened? Is everything okay?” He barrages me with questions, but then he catches sight of the baby on the ultrasound screen. Hunter grows still, silent. “Is that…”
“Oh. Oh my God,” the doctor freaks out a bit. “You’re Hunter Stride, right?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Wow, I’m such a huge fan.” It takes her a moment to collect herself. Clearing her throat, she asks, “Is he alright to be here, Ms. Spencer?”
I nod. “Yes, sorry about that. He’s the father.”
Hunter squeezes my fingers lightly. I can tell he has a lot he wants to get off his chest, but right now he’s too mesmerized to speak.
