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CHAPTER22
NOVA
An envelope sitson the counter with the ultrasound image of the baby inside. Since I got home, I’ve been pacing around, annoying even myself. Tabby had to go upstairs, but she said she’d come back down and we could bake to keep my mind occupied.
There’s apparently a lot of Christmas baking to do for a family with six kids, a handful of girlfriends, and a couple of baby mamas. Figgy has been pacing around the apartment with a stress level that would rival my mother’s during award season. He’s taken to sitting on the windowsill sometimes, gazing longingly toward the mountains—maybe contemplating his ancestry and whether he’d have the chops to survive better out there than in here, being manhandled by Del.
Zeke walks in from outside, snow covering his hair and shoulders. He shakes it off like a dog and shrugs out of his coat. A draft of freezing air swirls around my feet, and I shiver. I’ve had the heater on full tilt, and still, this basement is freezing.
He’s in a t-shirt, and I get goosebumps just looking at him.
“How was your day?” I ask.
“Great,” he says. “The farm is looking pretty awesome. I should take you out there someday.”
“That would be great,” I say with a smile.
He steps closer to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “How was the ultrasound?”
“Very uneventful. I had a good drive with Tabby, but other than that, nothing out of the ordinary. The ultrasound gel is still cold.” I hug him back, wondering how his body is so warm with this freezing air.
He leans in and kisses my forehead. Figgy has forced his way between our feet like he does every time Zeke hugs me, giving off these pathetic meows like he never gets any love, which is a damn lie.
A flutter ripples through my low belly, like being tickled with feathery wings from the inside. This isn’t butterflies at Zeke’s proximity. It’s not a sensation brought on by my brain or hormonal surges.
The little flutter happens again, and I gasp, gripping his sides.
“What’s wrong?” Zeke says, and I blink back tears, my lip clamped between my teeth. “Nova, are you okay?”
“I felt him,” I say as my stupid emotional wave pool turns into a stormy sea. “The baby. He moved. I felt it.”
His face pales, like the thought of the little human wiggling around inside me is nauseating. Then, he startles.
“You said he?”
I grab the manila envelope and slide it across the island. He pulls out the folder and flips it open, scanning it, then taking the ultrasound photo and studying it.
His whole body begins to sag under an invisible weight, and his eyes go completely unfocused.
He sets down the papers and folds himself over the counter, hiding his head in the crook of his arm. I run my hand down his back and up again, loving every minute I get to touch him. Figgy hops up onto the counter and tips his head, his tail twitching as he watches Zeke’s every move.
“We’re going to have ason.” As I say it, Zeke grunts from his hiding spot. Figgy starts batting at a spoon on the counter, the clanking sound distracting me, so I pick him up and snuggle him against my chest.
“I’m going to puke,” he says, his voice louder this time.
I laugh, but when he stands up, there’s a darkness in his eyes that is almost frightening. Figgy growls, low enough that I can’t hear it, but I can feel it in his fuzzy little body as he senses Zeke’s mood shift.
This news is not lighthearted and exciting like I wanted it to be. It weighs heavy on him, and he glances at the ultrasound picture for a moment.
His gaze darts around, and then he clears his throat.
“I should go shower. I smell terrible,” he says, shifting away from me.
I feel his lies. The discomfort in him is visceral, palpable, and panic consumes his eyes. It’s frightening to see him like this, to see it happen so quickly. A flare of emotion, and then nothing, like he’s completely dissociated from himself and me.
“Zeke, talk to me.” I plead, and he pauses in his doorway, not turning around to look at me.
“I just need a minute. I’m sorry.”
