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Exhaling, I re-cross my arms and shrug. “You can be in the child’s life. But that’s all you’ll ever be. My baby’s father. Nothing more.”

His lips press flat as his eyes hold all the words he isn’t saying and probably wants to.

“That’s a start,” he finally speaks. His gaze drops to my belly, which is flat as a pancake given I’m barely into my second month—if I’m going off the date of my last period. I won’t have a due date until I can get an ultrasound. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“You always say you’re fine. How are you really feeling?”

I lift a shoulder. “Scared as hell. You?”

His lips lift at the corner, flashing a single dimple. “Same.”

“I have to admit, you’re taking this much better than I expected.” I’d almost garner to say he’s happy about it. There’s no shock, no my life is officially over look on his face.

“You forget I’m an ER doctor,” he says, “I’m trained to take action, not mull things over.”

“That’s why you’re so calm?”

“That and I’ve learned to contain my emotions in the face of life-changing news.”

“But this is your life-changing news. It affects you. You’re allowed to feel some sort of way about it.”

“Of course. And I feel fine. It’s not planned, but it’s not like it’s bad news. We can do this. Plenty of people do this. We’ll figure it out together. We’ll make it work.”

I don’t remember him being this optimistic in the past.

“Okay, so what’s next?” he asks before reaching for his phone. “Oh. I know a good OBGYN affiliated with the medical center. He’s the best in the state. I’ll give you his information.”

“I already have a doctor—Hope Freeman.”

“Ah, all right then.” There’s fight behind his eyes, but he doesn’t argue. “You want me to come to that first appointment?”

“No, that’s not necessary.”

“I can drive you. You shouldn’t take an Uber.”

“You’re starting to sound like my mother …”

“What if I want to be there?” he asks.

I lift my brows, surprised. If he wants to be there, I can’t rob him of that experience. I just don’t want him to hold my hand and I don’t want the nurses and technicians to talk to us like we’re some happy, loving couple.

Once again, I catch Alec staring at my middle, as if he expects the baby to pop out at any moment. If he found me hot or sexy before, that ship’s about to sailed. Now he’s looking at me like I’m some unidentified, foil-wrapped package he found in the back of his freezer.

“You can go if you want. But you don’t have to drive me. We can just meet there,” I say.

“Wait.” He sounds strangely even more excited than before, which doesn’t make sense. Five minutes ago, he was free as a bird. Now, he’s going to be a father. I don’t think he’s fully thinking through what this means. “Hold on. I think we need to establish ground rules here.”

He nods and we head to the sofa, making ourselves comfortable for what feels like a conversation that’s never going to end.

“I agree.” I cross my legs. “If you want to be involved, fine. But it’s my body and what I do before the baby is born is my choice. You understand that?”

He nods. “Naturally, I wouldn’t tell you how to do anything. But I am a doctor. It’s in my nature to want to make sure the people I care about are healthy. You can’t get mad if I make any suggestions.”

“Understand. But I have Dr. Freeman who’s been delivering babies longer than you’ve been practicing emergency medicine, so you can’t get mad when her advice overrules yours.” I lift a second finger. “Next, we co-parent as friends.”

“Friends …” He says the word slowly, as if trying to test out its taste.

“I don’t want to try and forge some weird romantic relationship just because of this situation. It’s sticky and complicated and the last thing I want is anyone involved getting the wrong idea. You are the father. I am the mother. We are in a cordial friendship. That is all.”

“Okay. Got it.” He leans forward, nodding in complete agreement.

I sigh, relieved. This is turning out way better than I thought it would. And now I feel that yes—we can do this. I might not be able to envision Alec as a boyfriend, but he’s loyal, moral when he wants to be. Maybe I could see him as a father, especially knowing he always looked up to mine.

I yawn as the exhaustion of the past couple of days catches up to me.

He stands up, taking the hint for once.

“Okay. So this is a good start,” he says, clapping his hands like a coach before a big game. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it endearing. “We can do this.”

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