Unexpected Fate

THE DOCTOR COMES BACK IN the room, dragging some weird-ass computer behind her. She flips the light off before she has me lie back on the exam table, and she puts my shirt over my stomach before I can get over my shock. My leggings are wiggled down until they are resting just above my crotch. And then I let out a yelp when she squirts some goo on me.

 

“Sorry, Dani. I don’t usually run the ultrasounds, so I must have grabbed the gel that wasn’t in the warmer,” she mumbles more to herself than to me.

 

I look down to where her hand is moving some wand-looking thing around in the disgusting goo. This is so nasty. All of this work for her to tell me that she read something wrong.

 

I have almost convinced myself that there was no way she could be right. Hell, Cohen used a condom every time, so surely there is no possible way for me to be pregnant. I haven’t been throwing up. Everything has been normal. Just because I don’t have a regular period doesn’t mean I’m knocked up.

 

I am about to open my mouth and tell her just that when the oddest sound echoes through the small room. “What the hell?” I question at the noise. It sounds like thundering hoof beats.

 

“Well, that, Dani, is your baby.”

 

She sounds so pleased that I can’t help how my eyes narrow before the shock hits again. Jesus, it’s just the night for shocks.

 

I hesitantly look over at the monitor she’s pointing to before my heart stops for a beat before picking up. I have no idea what the heck I’m looking at. I just know it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life.

 

My baby?

 

Cohen’s and my little miracle.

 

The doctor starts pointing to everything and explaining what I’m looking at. Every word she speaks, I soak up like a dying woman. Already head over heels in love with the child I was convinced only seconds before couldn’t even be possible.

 

Holy crap. I’m going to be a mommy?

 

Even through I’m scared out of my mind for what this means for my future—my future with Cohen—I let the love for this child wash over me and smile the brightest smile I’ve probably ever had.

 

“So . . . surprised but happy?” she asks.

 

“Very.” And I am. I really am.

 

“The baby’s father? I can print these images for you.”

 

“He’s overseas. But I would love to have a few copies so that I can show him when he gets home.”

 

“Of course. Do you know when he is expected to return? If you would like, just come on by when I’m on shift and I’ll make sure you guys are able to sneak a peek at this little one. You’re measuring right at twelve weeks, so unfortunately, it’s too early for a gender screen. But come back in a few weeks and we can see if that little one wants to give you an early show.”

 

“Thank you,” I breathe roughly when she hands me the printouts of my baby and moves to turn the lights on. “Hey, Doc?”

 

“Yes?” She looks over after she washes her hands.

 

“Do you know if there is a back entrance you can sneak me out?”

 

She throws her head back with a laugh and shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. He’s just a little . . . overprotective.”

 

“I noticed.” She laughs. “I’ll step out and give you a minute. Congratulations, Dani. I want you to be careful. You shouldn’t be alone tonight because of the concussion. You also need to follow up with your gynecologist later this week. Is it okay to have your parents come back in now?”

 

“Uh, yeah. Can you mention to my dad about my headache or something? It should keep his temper in check if he knows he can’t freak out. Gives me a day or so to let this sink in.”

 

She laughs but agrees.

 

When the door opens five minutes later and my mom walks in, she immediately wraps her arms around me. I can tell she’s crying, but I wasn’t expecting to see a huge smile on her face when she pulls back. She leans in and gives me a kiss on my forehead.

 

“I love you,” she mouths.

 

I look over her shoulder and see my daddy. All six feet six inches of him, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest, and every vein bulging in his neck. His face is beet red, and his breathing is erratic.

 

Daddy is pissed.

 

“I love you, Daddy.”

 

“And I love you, my little princess,” he says, deflating some. Then, almost as if he remembered why he was so worked up, he stands tall again and his veins pop back out. “But I’m going to kill that motherfucker who touched you.”

 

Mom gives me a squeeze, and I stay silent. Because really, what am I supposed to say to that?