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Epilogue
Emma
Six weeks later
The ringing noise of the FaceTime call has me bouncing on my toes. I tear off the plastic wrapping of the box as I wait for him to answer, pulling out the instructions. My phone rests against the bathroom mirror so he can see everything clearly.
I hear the connection and glance up as he smiles, “My love.”
My heart flutters at the greeting like always, and I blow a kiss, holding up the stick. “Wanna hear me pee, or should I mute myself?”
“Is it time already?” He asks, glancing at his wrist.
I nod, “Yeah. I just woke up, and my tummy hurts because I need to go so badly.”
He chuckles, “Well, take the test. I need to know if I fucked my baby into you.”
“Yes, daddy,” I smirk and move out of the frame, letting my smile drop.
I hated doing this over the phone, but Jamie hasn’t been able to move back just yet. And there was no way I could wait sooner than the first day of my missed period to find out. I needed some light at the end of this tunnel.
Serena had done what she promised and told my parents exactly what she had overheard as soon as the last guest left my sister's wedding.
It’s been a dramatic disaster ever since. My parents were livid and threw Jamie out that night. I followed him, and we found a hotel room. The next day my sister showed up to talk with us. She was more accepting than everyone else, but I could see her discomfort. We stayed in the hotel room until he had to return to London.
My parents allowed me back into my house since Jamie was back overseas, but they weren’t speaking to me. I didn’t understand why they were so upset, considering they all loved him and knew much my aunt barely tolerated him.
Sick of how I was being treated in my home, Jamie found me an apartment closer to the city, and my parents had paid for movers to collect everything, so they didn’t have to see either of us.
Unfortunately, my period started a week and a half after the wedding, and I cried all weekend at the realization I wasn’t pregnant. Jamie flew back from London and stayed the entire two weeks after that. He promised that he was sure he had planted his seed in my belly this time.
I smile as I finish and wash my hands, setting the stick upside down on the counter.
“How long?” He asks. I can see he’s in the car, so he must have just finished his afternoon meetings. It hadn’t taken us a few days to adjust to the time difference, but now I was a pro at calculating.
“It says two minutes.”
He nods, and we just stare at each other through the phone. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I say, my cheeks blushing at the open affection he constantly shows me.
His eyes drift to the top of his screen before sighing, “Let me call you right back. Do not peek without me!”
I frown, “It’s like 30 more seconds. Can’t you wait?”
“I’ll call right back,” he says, hanging up without another word.
My mouth drops open, and I’m stunned and hurt. Glancing at the pregnancy test, I’m tempted to check without him because fuck him. That was rude.
I groaned in frustration before grabbing my phone and walking out of the bathroom. I couldn’t let my annoyance take away this joy from us. He wants to know as badly as I do, so whatever happened must have been significant.
I check the time, and only a minute goes by, and I sink further into the couch as I wait for him to call back, my knees bouncing with impatience.
I’m in the middle of a text to tell him that a test is only valid for ten minutes when I hear the sound of my door opening. I stand up while he fills the doorway, my heart pounding.
“You’re here,” I breathe.
He smiles, opening his arms for me to jump in. “Do you think I was going to find out I’m a dad over the phone?”
