“We should've at least eaten dinner,” Lucas laughed as we weaved our way across the green that led to our house.
“Beer counts as dinner,” I retorted. “I read that it's pretty much liquid bread, chock full of carbs!” I slurred, leaning into him. My feet were bare and I looked down at them, realising with a giggle that I'd left my shoes behind. Never-mind. Lucas stopped walking suddenly and I wondered if he was going to puke. “You okay?” I asked, stopping too. Instead of being sick though, he looked up to the night sky, staring at the stars.
“Beautiful, aren't they?” he whispered. He turned his attention to me, his eyes intense as they met my own. “Not the most beautiful thing I can see though... not by a long way.” I stared up at him, seeing the man I knew so well, my Lucas, my big strong sensitive husband. I was so happy to have him back, to have him look at me with so much warmth and emotion. I loved him so much. The night air was crisp and cool, and I leaned closer into him, soaking up his warmth. “God I've really fucking missed you Roxy. You have no idea how much,” he said, his voice deep and smooth.
“I've missed you too. I'm so sorry I checked out like that. I'm sorry Lucas.”
“I'm sorry too.”
I saw tears in his eyes and realised I was crying too. And then, his mouth was on mine, fierce and fast and hot, and we were reaching beneath each others clothes, both moving across the cold, dewy grass towards our front door. Our hands didn't leave each other as we burst through the door and fell in a tangle of limbs and discarded clothes onto the hallway carpet. Lucas kicked the front door shut behind him, then there was nothing but darkness and pleasure.
Chapter Eight
Four months later.
“You look... beautiful,” Lucas said, his eyes trained on me as I tied the belt of my wrap-around dress. My hair was still cocooned within a turban of an emerald green towel, and I had yet to put on a scrap of make up. I raised a quizzical eyebrow at him and pursed my lips. “Enough with your empty flattery! Get up or we'll be late,” I ordered, unwinding the towel and tossing it in his direction.
He caught it deftly and grinned. “I'm serious. You do look beautiful.” I shook my head, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, and turned to stare at my reflection in the mirrored wardrobe door. There it was. Undeniably, indisputably and yes, I had to agree, beautifully present. A bump.
I placed my hands on my hips, marvelling at my swollen, protruding abdomen. In all my pregnancies I had never reached the stage where I'd had a bump. Visual proof that my body was growing a tiny person. Sustaining life. Holding on. “It is beautiful, isn't it?” I murmured softly, my hands running over the convex surface of my belly. “Glorious.”
As if responding to the compliment, a thrumming of kicks volleyed against my palm, followed by a slow roll as the baby changed position. “Good morning, sweet angel,” I whispered, fearful that my voice was causing the little being to fret.
“Come here,” Lucas smiled, still watching me. He held out his arms expectantly and I walked around the bed, perching beside him.
“I can't believe we're going to see our baby today. We're going to find out if we're having a boy or a girl. A son or a daughter!” I exclaimed, breathless with excitement. I didn't want to think about the possibility that we would also find out if there was something wrong. An anomaly scan, they had called it. Though this was in fact my sixth pregnancy, this would be the first twenty week scan I would have the privilege to attend, and I wasn't at all sure what to expect. Would they tell me that something was horribly amiss? Somehow, I just couldn't believe that to be possible. Not this time. Not this baby.
Everything had been so different about this pregnancy, even right at the beginning. I hadn't even had to do a test to prove it to myself, I had just known with a deep, unquestioning certainty that I was carrying a new life inside me. This time, my symptoms had been obvious. The sickness and nausea had consumed my days for the whole of the first trimester. My breasts had swollen to larger than they'd ever been, and were so tender that even the slightest touch could make me gasp with pain. I'd never felt so utterly, intensely pregnant. I could feel the strength of the little soul inside me. I could feel everything changing and transforming within my body. I was going to get to meet this one, I just knew it.
And now, feeling my baby kick and move within me, secure in the knowledge that a little heart continued to beat strongly twenty weeks on, I felt hope. More than that, I felt sure. This baby would survive. I would hold this child. I would be a mother. I leaned forward, kissing Lucas softly on the lips before pulling back. “Get up cheeky, we have to go. The scan is in an hour.”
“We have time.”
“How can you even think of – that! – when we get to see our baby today? I'm so excited I can barely think straight.”
“So, you need a distraction,” he said, pulling himself upright and grabbing my arm playfully, guiding me back down towards him. He kissed the spot behind my ear, his stubble rubbing against the smooth skin, and I shuddered with pleasure. I was so damn sensitive these days, and he knew it.
“You're taking advantage of me,” I laughed, as I let him guide me onto the bed.
“Let me distract you,” he whispered as he lowered his mouth to mine.
“You have twenty minutes,” I warned, drawing in a breath as his hand slipped beneath the cotton of my underwear.
He chuckled, his breath hot against my throat. “Who says romance is dead?” he murmured. I gasped, my head sinking blissfully into the pillow, surrendering to my husband's touch.
The waiting room was humming with the buzz of couples itching to be seen, others having already had their scan brimming with joy, discussing the new life they were bringing into the world. I held onto Lucas's hand tightly as I watched everyone, my excitement turning to nerves now. What if I was wrong? What if the baby wasn't okay and we were about to find out we were losing another child? I couldn't bear it. I watched a couple coming out of one of the side doors now, shocked expressions on both of their faces. “Twins!” I heard the man exclaim. “Bloody twins,” he repeated with a shake of his head.
The woman smiled. “I know,” she replied. “We're so lucky.” The man coughed and went a shade of white that had me concerned, and then, before I could jump up to help, he swayed, grabbed for the desk, missed and fell onto the ground in a heap. “He's fainted!” the woman shrieked. “Somebody help!” People were already crowding around the inert lump, attempting to roll him, nurses trying to push their way through to assist. I watched it play out, fascinated. There was a tug at my hand and I looked round to see Lucas staring at me.
“What?”
“They called your name. It's our turn,” he said, getting to his feet. I stood slowly and looked at the nurse in the doorway across the room, tapping her pen impatiently against her clipboard. I suddenly felt like I might be next to faint. I took a deep breath and swallowed. Lucas nodded reassuringly, and I saw a flash of fear in his eyes, but then he blinked and it was gone, and I was being led across the crowded room whether I was ready or not. I made an indistinct sound in the back of my throat as the nurse confirmed my identity and then followed her into the darkness of the room, my grip on my husband's hand never easing for even a second.