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The doctor smiles. “Hold tight,” he tells us. “I’ll send the tech in.”
He closes the door, and her watery eyes find mine. “Declan, why are you here?”
“I already told you. You’re here. Where else would I be?”
“Where’s Blakely?”
“She’s hanging out with Sterling and Alyssa at home.”
“Alyssa.”
“Don’t be mad at her. She knew I’d want to be here, and she knew that you needed me, whether you want to admit that or not.”
“I can do this, Declan.”
“I know you can.” I bring our joined hands to my lips and kiss her knuckles just as another knock sounds at the door.
“Hi, I’m Jasmine. I’ll be doing your ultrasound today. We’re going to try the traditional way. From the date of your last period, we’re calculating you to be around eight weeks. The ultrasound will tell us for certain, and you get to see your baby.” She smiles kindly, moves to the machine sitting in the corner, and gets everything set up.
My heart hammers in my chest. This isn’t the first time I’ve been here, but it makes it no less incredible. I give Kennedy’s hand a soft squeeze. I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone but her.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Kennedy
Declan squeezes my hand, and I’m glad he’s here. I’m nervous that they’re going to find something wrong with my baby. This was never supposed to happen for me. It’s been a total of a couple of days that I’ve known, but I love this baby with all that I am.
“Ready to see your baby?” Jasmine asks.
“Yes,” Declan and I say at the same time.
My head whips to the side to look at him.
“I love you.” His voice is strong and clear.
My lips tremble as I fight my tears. He stands and kisses me. It’s just a soft peck on the lips, but it calms me, soothes me in a way that only he can.
“This might be cold,” Jasmine says, and she peels back the blanket and pulls up my gown to add gel to my belly. “The warmer has been acting up,” she tells me.
“It’s warm.”
“Good. All right, let’s do this.” She keeps the screen toward her as she pushes the wand all over my belly. She taps on the keyboard a few times, moves the wand some more, and repeats the process. I’m just about to ask her if everything is okay when she turns the screen toward us. “Your turn.” She grins. “This—”she points at a small blob on the screen— “is your baby. Measuring right at eight weeks. That puts your due date at or around September twentieth.”
“Hear that?” Jasmine asks. I nod, as does Declan. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”
Tears pool in my eyes, as I listen to the sound. “Healthy?” I manage to ask. Thankfully she understands my meaning.
“Yes. Everything looks absolutely perfect.”
I feel Declan squeeze my hand. When I turn to look at him, he’s watching me. “Mine.” He mouths the word, and my heart soars. Is this moment really happening? Am I dreaming?
“Everything looks good?” Declan asks, turning his attention back to the screen.
“Yes. The baby is measuring great, and everything is as to be expected at this stage in the pregnancy. Congratulations,” she tells us. She prints us a long strip of images and hands me a wad of paper towels to clean up. “You can get dressed. Just stop at the desk and make your next appointment for four weeks. They’ll have your prescription for your prenatal vitamins. If you need us before, then don’t hesitate to call us.”
With that, Jasmine hands Declan the printed images and walks out the door. I watch as he stares down at them. When he lifts his head, there are tears swimming in his eyes. He opens his mouth, but I hold up my hand to stop him.
“Not here. Please.”
“Okay.” He sets the strip on the counter and helps me get dressed. I don’t bother telling him I can manage. I soak up this time with him. He grabs the strip of images and folds them carefully before handing me my purse. He puts his palm on the small of my back and leads me to the receptionist's desk to make my next appointment and retrieve my prescription. I notice that he adds the date of my appointment to his phone. I don’t comment to either one of them that I might not be here then. I have a lot to figure out.
Declan walks me to his Tahoe instead of my car. “What are you doing?”
“Please, just get in the car, Kens.”
I do as he asks, assuming he wants to take me to lunch. He slides behind the wheel and drives two blocks to the Holiday Inn. “What are we doing?”
“We need to talk. I assume you don’t want to have this conversation with Maureen listening in, and my house is occupied. I’m going to get us a room. We’re going to get settled and discuss this. Discuss us.”
