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Chapter thirty-two

Hudson

“So today is the day, huh?” Jay asks as he watches me clean my face. I’m about to apply moisturizer when my phone buzzes next to him.

“Today’s the day.” I nod toward my phone. “Can you grab that for me?”

Jay looks down at the screen. “It’s Daphne. And Door Dash.” He pauses, brows drawn. “Since when do you do that, man?”

Quickly rubbing in the remainder of the cream to my face, I wipe my hands and take it from him.

“Since I’ve got a baby on the way, and I need all the extra cash I can get,” I say, swiping to open her message first. “I’m working late tonight.”

Daphne

So, what does one wear to a baby scan, exactly? A dress for easy access? Leggings? Jeans? Is there a protocol I need to follow here? Please tell me there’s not a protocol that I don’t know about.

I grin at her overthinking, shaking my head, when another message pops up.

Daphne

Actually, why am I asking you? Like you’ve done this before. Sorry, ignore me. I’ll call Liv. I’ll be ready in five. x

Hudson

Go with something comfy, and it’s cold and raining, so dress warm. Just wear whatever makes you feel good. Xx

Then I add another question.

Hudson

Have you spoken to your parents?

Daphne

Mom just called me, she wants pictures of the scan

I’m glad that her mom has called her. But with no mention of her dad still, I’m not sure if it’s something I need to hash out with my coach or something she needs to figure out on her own time. I just want to be there for her whatever happens.

When I look up, Jay has a smirk on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, studying me.

“What?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re not freaking out at all?” he asks, head tilted.

“Dude, I freak out a lot, it’s just all internal. Daphne is freaked out too, so I don’t want to make things worse for her.”

Jay’s face softens. “You’re a good guy, Huds.”

“You’re only figuring this out now? After how many years of friendship?” I scoff, clutching my chest mockingly.

His eyes roll before he looks at me again. “I know. I’m just…proud of you, I guess. This is big life shit and you’re handling it really fucking well.”

I swallow that kernel of fear that sometimes lodges in my throat and focus on what my mom would say to me in this situation. “I’m taking my mom’s advice right now, and she says: Panic doesn’t do anyone any favors.” I roll back my shoulders, believing the words. “I keep thinking about when I’m on the field…”

“Because that’s the same as becoming a dad for the first time.” Jay snorts.

“Just listen for a second,” I say. “On the field, I have to think about the play. I have to stay calm, focused, and fix problems fast. There’s no room for panic there.”

Jay raises an eyebrow. “Okay, go on.”

“It’s the same idea.” I continue, pacing a little to work off the nerves creeping in. “I can’t overthink or let fear take over. I just do what needs to be done, protect the people around me, make smart moves, and adapt to whatever’s coming at me. I’ll screw up sometimes; I know that. But I can fix it. Just not if I’m freaking out the whole time.”

Jay leans back against the counter, nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay, I get it now.”

“I just…” I let my words trail off. Yesterday at the lake felt like something shifted again between us. I want more of that.

“You’re not just talking about handling the dad stuff, are you?”

Debating whether to say it out loud, I glance at him. But this is Jay. He knows me better than anyone.

“No,” I admit, my voice quieter. “I want to be with her, not just protect her. Yesterday...we almost kissed. The whole day was just like a fucking dream, dude. I really like her.”

Jay pauses before breaking out into a smile. “Well, damn. Look at you, Huds. The big guy’s got feelings.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the small laugh that slips out. “Yeah, laugh it up. I’m being serious.”

“I know you are,” he says, straightening up. “And honestly? It sounds like you’re in a good place to make that happen. You’ve got the right mindset, man. You’re not just thinking about yourself; you’re thinking about her, about the future.”

“I don’t want her to feel alone, ever.” I never want her to feel what my mom felt raising me and Rory alone. “I’ve just gotta figure out how all this shit works with her dad too.”

“How’s it going at practice? I’ve seen him at games, but…”

I scrub a hand through my hair. “It hasn’t been great. He mostly talks to me through the assistant coach.”

“I’m sorry, Huds.” And I know he means it. I also know there’s not much he can do, and I’m hesitant to make everything worse. He slaps my shoulder giving me a sympathetic look. “You better get going. Don’t want to keep your girl waiting.”

My girl. I’m gonna manifest the shit out of those two words.

***

The room feels way too quiet, like the kind of quiet where you can hear yourself think, and trust me, that’s dangerous right now. The machine beeps softly as the tech moves the wand thingy over Daphne’s stomach.

And then the screen flickers to life. At first, it’s just a bunch of black and white blobs, like TV static, but then I see something, and all the air vanishes from my lungs. “That’s the baby right there,” she says, like this is totally normal and not the wildest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

I let out a breath and squint at the screen, trying to make sense of it. There’s this tiny shape, kind of curled up in the middle of the black space. The edges are a little blurry, but it’s moving. Like, actually moving. Wiggling, even. I feel this weird, incredible pull, like I’m connected to that little blob on the screen in a way I don’t even have words for yet.

I blink. “Whoa. That’s…our baby?”

“That’s your baby. See the little flicker? That’s their heartbeat.”

The word heartbeat hits me like a freight train. It’s real and alive and right there. I’m not prepared for the landslide of emotions attacking me right now. Relief. Happiness. Fear. Anxiety. Joy.

It’s like every single feeling I’ve ever had is trying to elbow its way to the front. My throat gets tight, and I don’t know which one to focus on first. I’m overwhelmed, but I’m also completely in awe. That little flicker—it’s ours.

The steady thumping echoes around us. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t look away. That little baby, it’s ours. Ours. And somehow, in the chaos of emotions swirling inside me, that one thought becomes an anchor.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

It’s not just a heartbeat. It’s a promise. A beginning.

“That’s it?” Daphne asks, and my attention snaps to her. Those bright baby blues shine with everything I’m feeling too. I take her hand in mine and squeeze as I watch her watching our baby for the first time. “Is everything okay with them?”

“Everything looks good so far.”

Looking back at the screen, I swallow hard. My brain is trying to catch up, but my heart’s already there, fully invested.

The blob moves again, and I tilt my head. It doesn’t look like a baby. Not yet, anyway. It’s just a blob. A wiggly blob. I stare at it for a second, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “They look like Nemo.”

Daphne side-eyes me. “Nemo?”

“Yeah, like, you know when Nemo’s swimming to touch the butt?” I gesture vaguely at the screen, my hands shaking slightly, my mind reeling. “It kinda looks like that. Like they’re just floating around in there, being all…fish-like. Do babies swim? They must, right? I mean, they’re surrounded by water…or is it goop? Is it water or goop?”

The tech chuckles softly. “It’s amniotic fluid,” she says. “It surrounds the baby and protects them. Think of it like a cushion. And no, they don’t swim exactly, but they do move around a little.”

“Oh. That makes sense. I actually knew that, I think.” I glance at Daphne, feeling a little better. But then my brain latches onto something else as panic sets in. “Wait, how do they breathe in there? Like, do they have gills? Are they secretly part fish? But, like, only until they’re born, then they’re human babies?”

Daphne’s hand tightens on mine as she tries not to laugh, and the tech looks like she’s trying to decide if I’m serious.

“They get oxygen through the umbilical cord,” she says patiently. “Not gills. Your baby is human, unless you’re going to tell me you’re not from this planet.”

“Right. Of course. Umbilical cord. But that’s great, gotta get that oxygen,” I say, rubbing the nape of my neck, but I’ve opened some kind of door in my brain that’s screaming at me to protect and understand what’s happening to that little fish baby on the screen, my sanity caving in under the weight of things I don’t know yet. All of that, and this is what comes out of my mouth... “Doesn’t it kind of look like a booger? Like, a really…cute booger? Can boogers even be cute?”

I think I might be losing it. All that calm I told Jay I had earlier has disappeared and now I’m this guy. The one who thinks his baby is part fish or cute booger. And the tech definitely thinks I’m part alien at this point. It’s going well.

I sit back, suddenly hyperaware of how quiet the room is again. The tech’s clicking something, and I know I can’t look at Daphne, because she probably thinks I’m freaking out, which I’m absolutely not. Well, there’s a small chance of it. Miniscule, really.

Daphne reaches for my hand, squeezing it as she stares at the screen. “That’s the cutest little booger I’ve ever seen.”

Her voice pulls me out of the spiral, and for a second, everything slows down. Blob, booger, fish, whatever. It doesn’t matter what they look like because they’re ours. They’re ours, and that’s pretty freaking incredible.

“Yeah, it is.”