Now, that won’t be an issue.
My stomach flips over nervously. “Well,” I begin, addressing Sarah. “I’m almost home. I guess I’d better go. Wish me luck.”
“You won’t need luck, Sloane. You’ve got the love of one of God’s rare creatures—a good man. You won’t ever need luck again.”
I feel a tiny bit better after hearing that. But it doesn’t completely eradicate my anxiety.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Okay. If all else fails, take off your clothes.”
“That’s good, sound advice. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Trust me. It works,” she declares. “Anyway, call me tomorrow, chickie.”
“Tomorrow,” I agree returning her kiss noise before disconnecting.
I park in the garage and hit the button to close the door as I make my way up the short set of steps that lead into the house.
I check the office first. I get a little pang when I take in the pale sage walls, a color I picked out so that when a baby does come along, we won’t have to repaint and worry about fumes while I’m pregnant.
Now, that won’t be an issue either.
Hemi’s nowhere to be found, so I head for the master. I kick off my shoes and throw them into the closet as I pass, moving toward the bathroom where the light is on. Hemi is standing at the counter, in front of the sink, holding something in his hand.
When I stop just inside the doorway, he looks up and smiles.
“Hey, beautiful. How’d it go?”
“Just fine. No cavities, even though you keep carrying me to bed when I fall asleep on the couch and not waking me up to brush my teeth.”
He grins. “But you’re so sweet when you’re sleeping. I don’t have the heart to wake you up.”
I step farther into the room, melting into him and poking my finger in his chest. “Well, you’d better start, mister. I don’t want my teeth to rot out.”
“I thought you said they’re fine.”
“They are. I’m just saying I don’t want it to be a problem.”
“Then I’ll start waking you up. But be warned that if I wake you up and you look at me with those sleepy, sexy eyes of yours, it’s liable to prolong you actually getting to sleep.”
“Okay,” I reply with a grin of my own. Finally, I glance down at his hand. My stomach sinks when I see what he’s holding. “Why are you holding my birth control pills?”
Hemi glances down at the little pink case, turning it over and over in his fingers. “I was just thinking about the trial and how things can finally move forward now that it’s over. My brother’s killer got justice. Your brother’s betrayer got uncovered. There’s nothing holding us back. Nothing preventing me from putting a baby in this beautiful body and watching it grow.”
I feel my throat close around a lump of emotion. Tears sting my eyes and there’s nothing I can do to stop them. “Really?”
“Really,” he assures. “What would you say if I threw these away? Right this minute. Just dumped them in the trash and dragged you into the bedroom to ravage you?”
“I would say that I need to throw them out anyway.”
His brow wrinkles. “What? Why?”
“You remember last month when you insisted that I go to the doctor for that sinus infection?”
“Yes, but I only did that because you’d never have gone if I didn’t keep harassing you. And you’d have ended up being sick for a lot longer.”
“Well, remember he gave me a round of antibiotics? I didn’t think anything about us using some other form of birth control for the rest of the month. I don’t know why, but I just didn’t.”
“What do you mean? Why would we need to do that?”
“Antibiotics can interfere with birth control. You’re supposed to use a back-up method for the month that you’re taking the antibiotics.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I didn’t even think about it. And we didn’t use any other forms of birth control. And…”
The words die on my tongue. All of a sudden this is very real. This is a very significant milestone for us. A curve in the road. A turning point. I’ll know in a minute if Hemi is as steadfast as he says, as he seems. I’ll know if he’s really in this for the long haul.
“Are you saying you’re pregnant?” he breathes.
I feel my chin tremble as I nod.
Hemi closes his eyes as he exhales, dropping his forehead to mine. “Oh my God. Oh my God, I can’t believe this.”
My stomach is a knot of confusion and fear. I don’t know what to make of his reaction. But I’m terrified he’s not happy about the news.
But then Hemi drops to his knees in front of me. Slowly, he lifts my shirt and presses his lips to my still-flat belly. He doesn’t move for the longest time. All I feel is the warm air from his nose as it tickles my skin.
When he finally shifts, it’s only to speak. His lips move over my belly, his voice so low I have to strain to hear him.
“Hello in there, baby Spencer,” he whispers. “I’m your dad. I can’t wait for you to get here, to see what you look like and how you feel in my arms. But until then, know that I love you already. And I always will. To my dying breath, I’ll love you. Just like I love your mom.”
I don’t even bother to try and stop the tears that are streaming down my face and dripping off my nose to pepper the top of Hemi’s head. It’s like the baby we made, though only five weeks old, is being christened, christened with tears of joy. Hemi and I have both already cried so much in our lives, tears of sadness and pain, of fear and anger. But now there is no room for any of that, just like there’s no room for regret. Now, there is only the beauty of today and the hope of tomorrow, and the love that we share in between.
And if I die an untimely death like my mother before me, I’ll have lived every second of every day of my life with all the bravery and enthusiasm and love that I’m capable of. And I’ll have lived it with Hemi. And our child. There’s nothing more that I could ask for in life.
Not. One. Single. Thing.
THE END