I mean, I guess I already knew. But there is something so final about this, so completely irrevocable that I can feel it down to my bones. Deep down into the marrow.
“Right.” I nod and try for the love of all things holy to get some moisture to my mouth. “Of course. Thanks.”
I’m still nodding. I can’t stop nodding.
“Robyn,” Dr. Lassiter says gently, placing a hand gingerly on my knee. “Breathe.”
“Yeah. Breathing’s good. I like breathing.”
She’s trying not to smile despite the concerned look in her gaze.
“I know this is big news, and perhaps news you didn’t necessarily want.”
“I don’t—um, I just don’t know that I—”
“Relax. No explanations needed here. Just a few more procedures, then you can go home and process in peace.”
“More procedures?” My voice cracks like I’m a fourteen-year-old boy instead of a twenty-three, soon to be twenty-four-year-old woman.
Dr. Lassiter nods and returns her attention to my chart briefly. “We’re going to do a quick ultrasound and see if we can get some solid confirmation on how far along you are. You’ll also get to hear the baby’s heartbeat.”
My mouth drops open and she speaks again before I can.
“Unless you wanted to wait on that. Some moms like for the dad to be present for the first time. And some don’t want to hear or see anything until they’re sure they aren’t going to terminate or give the baby up for adoption. My guess is your baby is about the size of a peanut, so we might not be able to see much anyway at this point.”
The mental image of someone crushing a peanut makes my stomach lurch.
“No, I’m definitely not t-terminating or, um, giving him or her up for adoption. And the dad’s not exactly . . . he probably won’t be coming to any of my appointments.” The tension in my chest squeezes hard once before a new and overwhelming sensation takes over.
This is my baby.
Mine.
Innocent, helpless, and growing inside of me.
Inside of me.
Because it’s mine.
Nothing will ever hurt this child. If anyone or anything tried, I would destroy them. Annihilate them. Erase their family tree from existence and burn their entire universe to the ground.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
A few deep breaths later, I rein in this fiercely protective side I didn’t even know I possessed and smile at Dr. Lassiter. Maybe it’s all the adrenaline, or just finally knowing the truth for sure, but a tranquil calm settles over me.
“I would love to see my baby. And I’m ready to hear the heartbeat, too. The sooner the better.”
She looks as relieved as I feel. “Perfect. Be right back.”
32 | Robyn
I AM PREGNANT.
And from the looks of the ultrasound screen, I am carrying an immensely adorable gummy bear in my belly. One that apparently hates Italian food, loves Chinese, and will violently reject any red meat or chocolate I try to consume.
Chocolate, kid? Seriously? Perhaps I’m carrying the spawn of Satan.
But I know I’m not because nothing that cute could be evil.
I stared at the blurry black-and-white image on the screen as Dr. Lassiter informed me I was nearly seven weeks along. Seven.
I knew exactly when and where my little gummy bear had been conceived.
“Denver,” I whispered to myself as a steady pounding rhythmic sound filled the room while tears swam in my eyes.
I left the doctor’s office with a serious hankering for pancakes.
Less than an hour later, in the middle of my second stack, I work through possible scenarios in my head. Most of them end with Dallas glaring at me with horrified hatred in his eyes and telling me that I ruined his life.
So I’m not all that eager to update him.
“Sorry, hon. The waitress for this section was a no-show,” a wrinkled woman with blue hair tells me as she refills my long-empty cup of apple juice. “Can I get you some coffee?”
“No, thank you. I’m good.”