Page 23

Chapter 23

Gummy Bear

Dominic

T he last thing I ever expected to become intimately familiar with was the color palette of an OB/GYN waiting room. Yet here I sat, hood pulled low over my eyes, surrounded by various shades of soothing lavender and mint green that did absolutely nothing to soothe me.

I’d thought coming alone was smart. Strategic. A way to give myself space to process before having to face Miles and Nora together. It was a brilliant fucking plan that backfired spectacularly, leaving me isolated in this uncomfortable chair while some woman across from me pretended to text but was angling her phone my way.

“Could you be more obvious?” I muttered, flipping another page of a parenting magazine from 2019. The cover promised “Ten Ways to Babyproof Your Marriage!” which seemed really ridiculous.

The woman’s eyes widened, quickly averting her gaze back to her phone. Too late, lady.

She was called back a few minutes later, leaving only me in the waiting room. I sighed in relief, hoping the next person who came in wouldn’t be with a boyfriend or husband who was a hockey fan.

My attention back on the magazine, an article about swaddling techniques swam before my eyes, the words blurring together as my mind wandered back to the team and the suffocating tension that had settled between Miles and me these past three weeks. Our conversations had been reduced to hockey plays and schedule confirmations. Nothing more.

“You need to tighten up your left side approach.”

“Got it.”

“Team meeting at four.”

“I’ll be there.”

That was it. That was all we could manage. Years of friendship reduced to clipped sentences and avoided eye contact.

I glanced at the clock on the wall for what felt like the hundredth time, watching the second hand tick endlessly forward. 10:28. The appointment was at 10:30, which meant they should be here already.

Miles was annoyingly punctual and had been since rookie year when he’d shown up fifteen minutes early to every practice while I’d stumbled in with seconds to spare. The fact that he wasn’t here yet made my fingers drum against the arm of the chair.

Maybe they weren’t coming. Or maybe they were outside right now, having some intimate moment I didn’t want to think about.

The frosted glass door opened, and my stomach dropped as they walked in, heads bent close together, fingers interlaced like they’d been doing it forever. They moved in perfect synchronization, Miles leaning down to whisper something that made Nora’s lips curl into a smile I hadn’t seen directed at me since that night I’d taken her brownie bites.

I tried not to stare at their joined hands swinging gently between them. Tried and failed miserably.

I had about five seconds to compose my face into something resembling normal before Nora’s eyes landed on me. Miles’s followed a split second later, and something flashed across his face before it disappeared behind his captain’s mask.

“Dom.” Nora’s voice was soft and careful, like she was approaching a wounded animal. “You’re early.”

I forced my lips into what I hoped resembled a smile but probably looked more like a grimace. “Traffic was light.”

After Nora checked in with the receptionist, they took the seats beside me, Nora in the middle, Miles still holding her damned hand. I focused on my phone, scrolling through nothing. The silence stretched between us, punctuated only by the receptionist’s keyboard clicks and the occasional phone ringing.

When I glanced up, I caught Nora studying me. She looked good and was glowing. Her skin had that dewy quality people always talked about with pregnant women, and her hair looked softer and fuller.

My eyes fell to her stomach. There wasn’t a visible bump yet, but my child was in there while I sat here like a fucking stranger.

“How’s the morning sickness?” I was desperate to break the silence with something that didn’t sound like an accusation.

“Completely gone this week.” She relaxed slightly. “Still can’t stand the smell of bagels, though. It’s really a travesty.”

Miles’s thumb brushed over her knuckles in a gesture so intimate it felt like I’d walked in on something I shouldn’t see. They shared a private look, the knowing kind that comes from inside jokes and shared mornings, and something hot and ugly twisted in my chest.

I’d seen them leaving practice together multiple times now. Once, Nora had been wearing Miles’s sweatshirt, the one he practically lived in during our off days. It hung past her hips, sleeves rolled up multiple times to free her hands.

I’d walked out of the practice facility one morning and found them waiting for a car, his hand resting casually on her lower back. They jumped apart when they noticed me, but not before I’d seen the easy intimacy and the comfortable touches.

This wasn’t for show anymore. That much was clear.

And I didn’t even want to think about Carter and how much he’d been around.

“Nora Hastings?”

All three of us jerked to attention as a nurse in pink scrubs appeared at the doorway, tablet in hand.

We stood in perfect unison, like we’d rehearsed it. For a loaded moment, nobody moved. Miles’s eyes met mine over Nora’s head, uncertainty flickering across his face for the first time since they’d arrived. His hand remained firmly clasped around Nora’s, a silent claim I wasn’t sure how to challenge.

But this is what I wanted, wasn’t it?

I stared back flatly, jaw set. I wasn’t backing down. This was my child. My responsibility.

“Um...” The nurse glanced between us, clearly trying to figure out the dynamics.

Nora cleared her throat. “I’d like both of them to come with me, if that’s okay?”

The nurse’s eyes ping-ponged between Miles and me, and I could practically hear her brain whirring with questions she was too professional to ask.

“That’s... fine,” she finally said, gesturing us toward the hallway. “Follow me.”

Miles gave Nora’s hand a squeeze before releasing it, falling into step beside her on the left. I positioned myself on her right, close enough that our shoulders occasionally brushed. Each contact sent jolts of something though me. Anger? Longing? Regret?

The nurse led us into the exam room, and suddenly it hit me. This wasn’t theoretical anymore. We were about to hear a heartbeat. My palms started to sweat.

The nurse took Nora’s weight, vitals, and asked her questions about her medical history and symptoms. “The doctor will be in shortly. You’ll be having an abdominal ultrasound done so Mom can stay dressed.”

Mom. The word hit me like a stick to the throat.

“Thank you.” Nora shifted on the exam table as the nurse bustled out.

The door clicked shut, leaving the three of us alone in a room roughly the size of a walk-in closet. Miles leaned against the counter while I sat in the single chair next to the exam table, both of us focusing everywhere but on each other.

“So...” Nora played with the hem of her shirt, looking between us. “This is awkward.”

Miles let out a short laugh. “Could be worse.”

“How exactly could this be worse?” I scoffed, not really understanding why he needed to be in the room.

He met my eyes directly for the first time in weeks. “Carter could be here too.”

My eyebrows shot up toward my hairline. “Is that... something that happens?” My gaze flicked to Nora, whose cheeks were turning an interesting shade of pink. “The three of you?”

“Dom—” she started, but the door swung open again, saving her from having to answer.

A doctor in a white coat breezed in. “Good morning!” She glanced at Miles, then me. “I’m Dr. Patel. Who do we have here with us today, Nora?”

I already liked this doctor. She held no judgment on her face and hadn’t immediately assumed either of us was the father.

I opened my mouth to introduce myself, but Miles beat me to it. “Miles Collins. Friend and... emotional support person.”

My head snapped up in surprise. After weeks of the fake boyfriend routine, I’d expected Miles to keep playing the part. Instead, he’d just acknowledged the truth.

“I’m Dominic Wilson, the father.”

Dr. Patel shook our hands in turn. “Wonderful! The more support, the better.” She turned back to Nora. “Let’s take a look at how Baby’s doing. Go ahead and lay back for me.”

Nora reclined on the exam table and lifted her shirt, revealing the subtle curve of her lower stomach. It was barely there, just the slightest swell that probably wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone who wasn’t looking for it, but it stopped my lungs from working all the same.

“Oh, a little baby bump coming in nicely,” Dr. Patel noted with a warm smile.

I went completely still, my eyes locked on that gentle curve. That was my child. Not an idea or a problem to be solved, but something real and alive growing inside her. The reality of it slammed into me with the force of a body check.

Nora’s hand drifted over her stomach. “I’m pretty sure it’s fifty percent actual baby, fifty percent brownie bites someone keeps having delivered.” Her eyes flicked to me for a split second before darting away.

My face was suddenly hot as Miles looked at me in surprise. Hell, I surprised myself every time I had something delivered to her place.

Dr. Patel pulled the ultrasound machine closer. “I’m going to put some gel on your abdomen. It’s been in a warmer, but it still might be a little cold.”

She grabbed the gel and squeezed it onto Nora’s skin. The doctor’s movements were practiced and gentle as she pressed the wand against Nora’s belly, sliding it around until the grainy black-and-white monitor flickered to life.

The room went silent. Even my thoughts shut up for once.

And then there it was, a rapid, rhythmic whooshing filled the room. Fast. So fucking fast.

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.

“That’s your baby’s heartbeat,” Dr. Patel said, her voice soft with practiced reverence. “About one-sixty beats per minute. Strong and steady.”

My breath caught in my throat. It didn’t even sound real. Too fast, too intense to be something inside a person.

But it was real. As real as anything had ever been.

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

Dr. Patel didn’t even glance my way, apparently used to stunned profanity in her exam room. She adjusted the wand slightly. “And here we can see Baby more clearly now.”

My eyes darted to the monitor. The grainy image showed... something. A curved shape, lighter than the dark background. I had no fucking clue what I was looking at, but my heart threatened to pound right out of my chest anyway.

Nora’s hand suddenly shot out, reaching for something to grab. Instead of finding Miles’s hand, her fingers wrapped around mine. Her grip was almost painful, but I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t.

No words. No explanations. Just that connection while that incredible sound filled the room around us.

Miles shifted slightly, and I caught the flash of something across his face. It was gone before I could identify it, replaced by the stoic expression he’d perfected on the ice.

“See here?” Dr. Patel traced a curved line on the screen. “That’s the spine developing. And these?” She pointed to tiny protrusions. “Baby’s arms and legs forming. Everything looks exactly as it should for twelve weeks.”

“It looks like a gummy bear,” I blurted, earning a surprised laugh from Nora. Her hand was still clutching mine.

“A very wiggly gummy bear,” Dr. Patel agreed with a smile. “The baby’s moving around in there, but it’s still too small for Mom to feel.”

Mom. There was that word again. And by extension, I was Dad . I was going to be a dad.

“Usually between sixteen and twenty-two weeks is when you’ll start to feel movement. First-time moms often feel it later.”

My eyes remained glued to that screen, watching the tiny movements of something that was half me. I couldn’t look away if the building caught fire.

“Do you want to know the gender?” Dr. Patel asked. “We can try to see, though it’s still a bit early.”

“Yes,” I said immediately, just as Miles said, “That’s Nora’s decision,” and Nora said, “I’m not sure.”

Our voices collided in the small room, and heat crept up my neck. Nora’s fingers loosened slightly around mine, but she didn’t let go.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I’d like to know, but it’s your call.”

Nora audibly exhaled. “Can we try? If you can’t tell for sure, maybe that’s the universe telling me to be patient. But don’t tell us if you see what it is. I kind of want to do one of those blue or pink cakes to reveal it.”

“We should.” I brought her hand to my lips and kissed the back of it, causing her head to snap toward me in surprise.

Dr. Patel smiled. “Let’s see if Baby’s cooperative. We can also get the gender from prenatal testing.” She moved the wand around, adjusting angles and pressing buttons on the machine. “Hmm. Not giving us a clear view today. We can try again at your twenty-week anatomy scan as well.”

I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved. The constant emotional whiplash I was experiencing was exhausting.

“How’s the baby’s size? Is everything... okay?” Something in Nora’s voice made me finally tear my eyes away from the monitor to look at her face. There was worry etched in the tiny lines between her eyebrows.

“Everything looks perfect.” Dr. Patel removed the wand, taking with it the sound and image of our child. “Baby is measuring right on schedule, and all development markers are exactly where they should be.”

She handed Nora tissues to wipe the gel off her stomach. As Nora cleaned herself up, her hand finally slipped from mine, leaving behind a cold emptiness I hadn’t expected.

“I’ll give you a moment while I grab the images from the nurses’ station. I’ll also have them loaded to the portal so you can share as you wish.” Dr. Patel walked out of the room, leaving us in awkward silence for a few moments.

Miles cleared his throat. “That was amazing. Thank you for letting me share that with you two.”

Nora nodded, still looking a bit dazed as she tugged her shirt back down. “Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” The question felt inadequate, but I needed to say something.

“I’m growing a human being inside my body. Okay doesn’t really cover the range of emotions happening right now.” She attempted a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But yeah, I’m okay.”

I understood that feeling. Words failed to capture the magnitude of what was happening. I opened my mouth, closed it, then tried again.

“It has my nose,” I finally said, completely serious.

Nora blinked at me, then burst into surprised laughter. “What? It looked like a lime-sized blob!”

“A little squishy Gummy Bear. With the Wilson nose. It’s genetic.” I needed to stop talking.

Miles rolled his eyes, but he directed a smile at me for the first time in weeks. “You couldn’t have possibly seen that.”

“I have very good eyesight. It’s why I’m such a good shooter.”

“It’s why you missed that empty-netter against Toronto?” Miles shot back before he seemed to realize he was speaking to me normally.

“The ice was bad,” I defended automatically. “Even Coach agreed.”

“The ice was fine. Your aim was shit.”

Miles and I both fell silent, the moment of normalcy evaporating. I’d missed the easy banter between us, the friendship that had defined so much of my adult life. Everything was so fucked up now, tangled in ways I didn’t know how to straighten out.

Dr. Patel returned with two black-and-white printouts with several pictures, passing one to me and one to Nora. “Here you go! Baby Wilson’s first photo shoot.”

I stared down at the image in my hands. Baby Wilson . Not Baby Hastings. Not Baby Collins. She’d said Wilson .

My chest did something complicated that felt like expanding and constricting simultaneously. I swallowed hard, tracing the outline of that tiny shape with my eyes.

“So, everything looks great,” Dr. Patel continued, seemingly oblivious to the emotional chaos she’d just triggered. “We’re right on schedule for a due date of June 21st. Nora, I’ll see you back in four weeks for your 16-week appointment, and then we’ll do the detailed anatomy scan at 20 weeks. Do you have any questions for me?”

I had about a thousand questions, but none that a doctor could answer. They were all versions of How the hell do I do this? and What if I’m just like my father?

“I think we’re good.” Nora was watching me closely.

“Perfect! If anything comes up, just call the office.” Dr. Patel paused at the door. “And congratulations.”

I couldn’t stop looking at the grainy black-and-white images that had just permanently altered my universe.

Nora slid off the exam table and came to stand in front of me. I stared up at her from my chair, really seeing her. Not just the woman who’d turned my life upside down, but someone carrying my child. Someone who’d trusted me enough to let me witness this moment despite everything that had happened between us.

My fingers itched to reach for her, to make some sort of connection, but I kept them firmly wrapped around the edges of the photo instead. “Baby Wilson,” I said softly, as if I was talking to the baby directly.

“Baby Wilson,” she repeated with a small nod.

And for the first time in weeks, I finally felt like the ground was solid beneath me.