“And I, you.”
We made idle chitchat until the technician came back, ready to do the ultrasound. My heart took residence in my throat as I watched her help Lailah into the stirrups and gently lean her back. I’d braced myself for the methods used for very early ultrasounds, but nothing could fully prepare me for the massive instrument the technician pulled out.
Lailah choked back a laugh as she saw my eyes go wide, but I refused to say anything, choosing instead to stand by her side and offer moral support.
“This might be slightly uncomfortable,” the technician warned as her hand disappeared under the drape of Lailah’s robe.
She winced, and I reached out for her hand. The pain must have been brief because she quickly relaxed, her eyes glued to the tiny monitor next to the technician.
“There’s your little one,” she said, smiling, pointing to a dark peanut-shaped nugget in the center.
I felt the breath rush out of me.
“Is this your first ultrasound?” she asked, looking back at Lailah.
She was busy staring at the screen. “Oh, um . . . no. I had a quick one at four weeks. It was a bit of a surprise, so they wanted to confirm the test.”
“Well then, I’m guessing at four weeks, you didn’t get to hear the heartbeat then?”
We both turned to her with wide eyes.
“Can we?” Lailah asked.
“Of course. Let me just . . .” She paused mid-sentence, clicking and entering things in on the keyboard.
Within moments, the room was filled with a whooshing sound.
We sat in awe, listening to the heart beating strong and fast, as the technician continued to do her thing. Lailah squeezed my hand, looking up at me, as her eyes filled with tears—happy, joyous tears.
My world doubled in that moment. As I looked into that monitor and listened to the sound of my unborn child, I knew Lailah wasn’t the only person I’d lay down my life for.
There were now two.
And now, I had to save them both.
“Maybe a little to the left?” she suggested.
I whipped my head around to give her a hard stare over my shoulder. “That’s the exact same spot it was in before,” I said, nudging the large framed photo an inch over on the wall.
After weeks of waiting, we were finally in our own place.
Molly and Marcus had been gracious hosts, taking care of us better than I could have ever asked, but we were newlyweds.
We needed space—and plenty of alone time.
It hadn’t taken long to find this place. We’d known we wanted to be near the ocean. After our many trips around the world, we’d learned the waves had a certain pull over us both, and I couldn’t think of any greater place for Lailah to be than near the calming, healing sound of the ocean water.
We ended up renting a large beachfront house not too far from Molly and Marcus. It was large and bright, and it had endless windows, giving every room a view of the beautiful outdoors.
“It is not. Now, it looks perfect,” she answered.
Her head cocked to the side, looking at the portrait I’d been holding against the wall for what seemed like an eternity.
“Are you sure?” I asked, holding up the nail. “Last chance.”
“Positive.”
Quickly marking the wall, I set the frame down on the sectional sofa I was standing on and positioned the nail.
“Wait!” she called out.
I groaned.
“Maybe just a tad to the right?”
Looking back over my shoulder at her as she sat cross-legged in a chair with a fuzzy blanket spread across her lap, I couldn’t help but laugh.
Goddamn, she was adorable. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I know.” She shrugged.
Moving the nail ever so slightly, I drove it into the wall before she had a chance to change her mind again. As I hung the portrait of us, laughing and looking into each other’s eyes during our first dance, I couldn’t stop the feeling in my stomach. It was a churning mixture of nostalgia as I remembered that exact moment and a twinge of panic as I worried that days like those might be numbered.
Stay positive, I reminded myself.
“It looks great!” she exclaimed.
“And it only took forty-five minutes!” I answered sarcastically.
Her eyebrow rose as she held a steaming cup of tea to her lips. “Be nice, or I’ll make you hang the rest.”
“You’re giving me a break? What kind of break?” I asked, inching forward, a cocky grin tugging at my lips.
“We’re having company,” she replied, laughing.
“Not the answer I was hoping for.”
“It’s good to know you still think I’m sexy,” she commented, rising to take her now empty cup to the kitchen.
“Whoa. Hold up.” I stopped her dead in her tracks. “Why on earth would I ever not find you sexy?”