Page 67 of Cracked Foundation


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She shakes her head and tugs her lip between her teeth, biting down hard enough that I worry she’ll make herself bleed. I pull the abused flesh from her mouth and kiss the hurt away. “Tell me,” I murmur against her lips. She’s been extra emotional the last few weeks, which is understandable. I know her hormones are a mess right now, but I thought she would be excited for today.

Shiloh buries her face in my neck and wraps her arms around me, banding me tightly against her soft body. She unleashes everything, then. Heaving sobs escape her, covering my skin in warm, wet tears. I drop down onto my back, taking her with me. I hold her tightly, letting her feel whatever she needs to. All the while, my heart is beating erratically in my chest, and my palms are beginning to sweat as worry consumes me.

Is something wrong with the baby?

I say nothing, giving her the silent support I know she needs right now. When she finally calms, her body shaking in my arms, she exhales a heavy breath. “What if—” she breaks off, another sob spilling from her body. I hold her tighter, refusing to let her go through these emotions alone. “What if he’s not okay?”

Her words are barely audible, but I hear them nonetheless. My heart and guts give a painful squeeze. I’m worried about that, too, not that I would ever say it out loud. I will never diminish or belittle what she’s been through, and I honestly can’t even wrap my brain around the heartache she’s experienced, but this time is different. She’s not alone. She has me, and no matter what happens, we’ll handle it together.

Doesn’t mean I’m not worried.

“Everything will be okay,” I grunt, my arms so tight, I’m worried I might hurt her. Her body tenses, and I roll my eyes at my own words. What a heartless fuckin’ thing to say. “Everything will go how it’s going to go. We can’t control the future any more than we can change the past, Babydoll. Just know that no matter what happens today, I’ll be with you. You aren’t alone anymore, Shiloh.”

Her body shudders. “I know,” she breathes, nodding against me. “I know I’m not.” I didn’t think it was possible, but I love her more at that moment. She may have been married, but she was alone. It’s taken a lot of work for her to get to this point, and it will continue to take a lot of work to keep healing, but she’s doing it, and I couldn’t be prouder.

“I love you, Mrs. Huxley,” I murmur against her hair. She huffs a laugh at my instance to call her by her proper name. We may not be married yet, but she’s still my wife.

Shiloh lifts her head, resting her chin on my chest. “I love you more, Mr. Huxley.”

My grin is so wide my cheeks hurt. “Love it when you call me that.”

She scoffs. “You do know that whether we’re married or not, that’s your na—” I slap her ass playfully, cutting off her words. Her lips tip up in a quick smile before she sighs and drops her head back on my chest. “I’m not alone this time,” she whispers, talking more to herself than to me. “We’ll get through this.”

“We will,” I say matter-of-factly. I may not know what the future holds, but I do know that much.

“Alright, Shiloh. Are you ready to see your baby?” Dr. Jacobs asks, a wide smile on her face as she prepares the ultrasound machine. “I hear this little one was a bit of a surprise?”

I grunt in response. “No, actually—” Shiloh squeezes my hand so tightly I hear my knuckles pop. Glancing down, I cock a brow in question. The glare she sends me is harsh enough to have my balls practically climbing back into my body. “Sure,” I drawl. “We’ll go with surprise.”

The doctor tilts her head to the side, her lip twitching with the beginnings of a smile. “Oh?”

Shooting Shiloh a grin that’s half-apology, half-cocky pride, I tell the good doctorexactlywhat I think. “It’s hard for it to be a surprise when I’ve kept her stuffed so full—” Shiloh reaches up and socks me in the gut. My words cut off with a grunt.

The doctor surprises me when she barks out a laugh and quickly smothers it. “Okay, you two. Let’s move on, shall we?” Shiloh sighs heavily and turns to look at the doctor. She readjusts her feet in the little kickstands that have her all sorts of sprawled out and nods.

“So, since we aren’t totally sure when you conceived and how far along you are, we’re going to do an internal exam.” She rolls her stool between my woman’s thighs, and only the knowledge that I’m about to see my kid for the first time keeps me from shoving her away. “How have you been feeling?”

“Wonderful,” Shiloh immediately says. “Really good.” She bobs her head up and down as if it makes her bald-faced lie more convincing.

“Actually,” I grunt, rubbing my thumb across her palm when she tries to break my fingers again. “She’s been extremely nauseous. She throws up at least five times a day.”

The doctor’s brows lift to her hairline, and she reaches over to jot something down in Shiloh’s chart. Realizing that’s apparently important andnewinformation, I keep going. “She cries a lot too. Like…a lot. And she has really bad gas, especially at night. Oh! She also—”

“Okay, Logan!” Shiloh screeches. “She doesn’t need to know all that. Those are normal pregnancy symptoms.” She palms her forehead and rubs the space between her brows. “I would have told her if I thought it was relevant.”

“Well,” the doctor interjects. “The frequent vomiting throughout the day isn’t all that normal, especially if you’re unable to keep food down. We can prescribe you something for it if you’d like.” Shiloh shakes her head, but I interrupt.

“We’ll take it,” I bark. Shiloh shoots a wide-eyed look my way. I cough, lowering my volume; I say, “We’ll take it. If it will help you feel better, and help keep the baby healthy, then you should do it. Right?” She tugs that big bottom lip between her teeth and slowly nods, understanding what I’m saying.

“Yes. I’ll take it. Whatever I can do, I’ll do it. I just don’t want to complain too much when this is such a miracle.”

Bending forward, I close the distance between us. Smoothing her long hair from her face, I kiss her forehead, hoping to calm her nerves before they really get going again. “You can be happy and thankful and still miserable, baby. You don’t have to be brave all the time.”

The doctor stays silent, giving us our moment. When we separate, she smiles approvingly. “Okay. Showtime.”

A few tense moments and some uncomfortable-looking prodding later, the most incredible sound I’ve ever heard fills my ears. It’s a mix between a whoosh, like when your heartbeat is in your ears, and a horse galloping. My heart thumps at a rapid pace. My eyes burn as they fill with tears of unbelievable happiness before spilling down my cheeks. I let them. I couldn’t give a single fuck how I look right now.

That sound? It means our baby is alive and healthy. Right?

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