My chest tightens at his insinuation. “You’ll probably leave anyway when you find out,” I whisper insecurely.
And there it is. The real reason I can’t tell him.
I’m too afraid that, once I say those words, those two tiny words, he’ll walk right on out that door and I’ll be alone.
“What? I don’t…” He runs his fingers through his hair. “Stop fucking around and tell me!”
My chest burns with my hurried breaths. Oh hell. I feel sick.
“Tell me!”
“I’m pregnant!”
My words ricochet off every surface. They echo, ringing in my ears, until they finally peter out into silence.
I’m still standing here, my arms around my stomach, only now my eyes are on the floor. I can’t look at him. He’s not talking. He’s not moving. He’s breathing though, and that’s the only noise in the apartment right now.
“Pregnant?”
“I found out this morning,” I answer quietly. “I went to my OBGYN and she took out my implant and confirmed it.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you call me?”
I step back into the wall. “I was in shock. I still am.”
“When is the… You… Us… Shit.” He exhales loudly. “When is the due date?”
Is it mine? is what he’s really asking.
“I don’t know for sure, but the test said I’m five weeks. My OBGYN guessed mid to late December. I have an appointment with her in two weeks. She said she’ll know better when she’s seen the baby.”
“Seen the—seen the baby? Like a scan?” His voice trembles.
I finally look up. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. I don’t blame him.
I feel like I have.
“Yeah.” I nod slowly and hug myself tighter. “Like an ultrasound.”
“Wow. Shit.” His fingers go through his hair again, and he blows out another long breath. “And you didn’t know? At all?”
I shake my head. “I feel fine. I just…had a feeling this morning.”
“I knew something was wrong with you.” He drops his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I raise my eyebrows. “On a gut feeling that could have been nothing but paranoia? Really?”
“Okay, but you should have called me. As soon as you fucking knew, Liv! Fuck. If you feel half as rattled as I do right now, I should have been here for you!”
It clicks.
His anger isn’t at me.
It’s because he wasn’t here with me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I just… I panicked. Then it was positive and I had to get that stupid failing piece of crap out of my body so it didn’t hurt our baby and then I panicked some more and then you called and then I panicked a little more and then I panicked myself all out.”
His lips twitch. “Still got a little in there, huh?”
I exhale shakily. “A little? A lot. But I figure I have eight months to panic, so why waste all that in one day?”
“You…” He sighs and walks toward me. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and pulls me into him.
His hold is strong and certain. Warm. Steady. I turn my face into his chest.
I turn my face into his chest. “You don’t have to stay, you know. If you need to go to…digest it…I get that,” I murmur into his shirt.
“Silly woman,” he says into my ear. “My silly, panicky bitch.”
I crack a small smile at those words.
Tyler pulls back and rests his palms against my cheek. “Look at me.”
I do.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says slowly and clearly. “You got that? You’ll have to remove me with brute force to get me out of this apartment, and even then, I’d put up one hell of a fuckin’ fight.”
“Why? How?”
“I’m not saying this again,” he breathes, pulling my face closer to his. “You and I, we’re in this together. We both made this baby, so we’re both going to raise this baby. Every day. Every single day, I will be there. And not because I have to be. Because I want to be. Because, dammit, Liv, you’re a pain in my bloody arse, but there isn’t a place I’d rather be than right by your side.”
I swallow harshly to stop the buildup of emotion.
“I’m not saying this is going to be easy. I’m not saying we’ll always get along or that we’ll get it right. We won’t be perfect. I’m shitting myself. I’ve never been so afraid of anything in my life.”
“But us?” I whisper. “We’re fucked up, Ty. We’re volatile and we’re not good for each other.”
“Then we’ve got eight months to sort our shit out, haven’t we?”
“What if I can’t do it?”
“You don’t have to do anything. We will do it all.” He lowers his lips to mine. “We’re all kinds of fucked up, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be fixed. It doesn’t mean we can’t fix it.”
He drops his hands to mine and pulls my arms from around me. My arms fall limply to my sides. I’m still afraid.
He rests his hands against my sides and trails his fingertips down to my hips. They linger there as he hesitates. I breathe in slowly as he moves his hands across my stomach and stops them in the center, right above my pants.
He brushes his thumb back and forth across my skin, sending tingles and shivers through me.
“In there?” he says softly. “There’s really a baby in there? Our baby?”
“Really, really,” I reply just as softly.
Then he drops to his knees and lifts my shirt. I run my fingers through his hair as he gently touches his lips to my stomach. His kiss is light but lingering. It seems to last forever.
And neither of us moves. He stays pressed against my stomach and I stay holding his hair.
Time stands still. All there is is this moment. A moment where silent promises are made and words are left unspoken, because right now is proof that actions speak louder than words.
For one second, his touch has silenced all my fears.
I revel in this second, I hold onto it, and I take the plunge. “I love you, Ty.”
His eyes snap to mine. They widen before they smile, lighting up with a happiness that’s reflected in the curve of his lips. He stands, cups my head, and tilts my face toward his.
“I love you,” he replies, his words buzzing across my lips with his kiss. “You’re a pain in my fucking arse, but I do.”