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“Sweetheart, I’m going to be with you every goddamn step of the way.”
Her lips momentarily curve into a half-smile, but then fall back into a frown.
Usually when two people declare their love for each other there are kisses, flowers, sex, champagne, and celebration. I can’t think of a single other scenario but the one we’re in right now that would have us crying instead of laughing.
But she loves me. And right this second, when there’s nothing I can do about anything else, that’s the only thing that matters in the world.
She. Loves. Me.
Chapter Twenty
Asher
Over breakfast, she tells me about Jason. About how she didn’t want anyone to know about the baby—not because she was ashamed, but because she didn’t want people’s misplaced well-wishes when they saw her pregnant belly. Or their sympathy when they eventually heard how it turned out. She tells me how she went out west to her aunt’s house. Alone, afraid, and abandoned by the man she loved.
I’m doing everything I can to assure her that is not going to happen this time. No matter what the test results say, I’m going to stick by her side.
Which is why when we enter the doctor’s office, I grab her hand and don’t let go.
She was going to make me sit across the room. She said the only reason men accompany women to a gynecologist’s office is if they’re pregnant. She didn’t want rumors starting.
Screw that. I don’t care about rumors. All I care about is being here for her and getting her through whatever we’re about to find out.
I’m scared shitless, however, even as I’m putting on a brave face for her. I researched Trisomy 18 when she was in the shower. It breaks my heart thinking about what she must have gone through. Knowing for months and months that she was carrying a baby who was surely going to die, either in the womb or shortly after birth. That has to permanently mess with a person’s psyche. And although I’m still upset she didn’t tell me, I do understand it. And a part of me kind of admires her for wanting to protect me from the sheer devastation she experienced.
There are three other women in the waiting area. The older lady pays no attention to us. The other two look at Allie. Allie is completely unaware as she’s sitting here with closed eyes as if it somehow makes her invisible.
One of the lookers leans over and whispers to the other looker. They both stare at me now, smiling.
“Allie?” someone calls.
I can feel the tension through her fingers. She doesn’t move. She’s cemented to the seat. I stand, pull her up then lean in. “Whatever happens, I’m here. You will not go through this alone.”
Slowly, her glassy eyes open and she gives me a small nod.
I’m escorted back to an exam room while her vitals are taken. As I sit in the chair next to the patient table, I examine the posters on the wall. Pregnant women looking happy. A list of what to avoid during pregnancy. A month-by-month fetal growth chart.
I try not to get too excited, but I am. She’s pregnant. I’m going to finally have another child. It’s something I’ve craved for a decade but thought would never happen. Stella and I tried for years. We went through five miscarriages. Rounds of fertility treatments. It was a constant roller coaster of ups and downs.
I know we still have to get through these test results, but if Allie really is thirteen weeks, she’s in the second trimester, where odds of miscarriage go way down. Stella never made it past nine weeks. And no matter what, I’m going to love this baby as much as I love Bug.
Bug. I wonder what she’ll think about becoming a big sister. Will this be the thing that finally gets her to accept Allie?
I’m getting ahead of myself. First, we need to get through the next fifteen minutes. Then we can start planning the future—whatever that may be. But one thing’s for sure, it’s a future where we’ll be together. Me. Allie. Bug. And hopefullya happy, healthy baby. A son maybe, one who looks like me? Or a daughter who has Allie’s beautiful hair and who also gets hiccups after she eats?
The door swings open and Allie walks in, followed by a nurse who announces, “Dr. McQuaid will be in shortly.”
“Thank you,” I reply when Allie remains quiet.
I can see the fear in her eyes. She’s trying to keep it together after her breakdown. And I’m not really sure what to say. I’ve assured her fifty times already that I’m going to be here for her. At this point, I think all I can do is hold her hand.
Luckily, we don’t have to wait long. I’m not sure if that pleases me or bothers me. He said he’d work her in, but it seems like he’s taking her before anyone else. That could mean there’s a reason he needed to see her first. Or it could just mean she’s a friend of a friend and she’s getting preferential treatment.
When he sees me, he stops and takes me in. Though I’ve been to Calloway Creek several times since Marti and Charlie moved here, I don’t know many residents. The Montanas of course, some of the Calloways, and a few other random people.
I stand and offer my hand. “Asher Anderson.”
His eyes flit amusingly between Allie and me when he shakes my hand. “Hudson McQuaid. I’ve heard your name once or twice. Nice to put a face to it.”