Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“You okay?” I ask as Nayloni goes about getting the baby’s measurements.
“Yeah,” Lincoln says with a tight smile. “It’s just all so surreal. To think in a few months, we’ll be parents of a tiny, helpless baby, who’ll depend on us for everything.”
I nod in understanding, getting a bit choked up at his words. Despite being pissed at me for what I did, I should’ve known he would do the right thing, which is a huge relief. Still, I feel like utter crap for what I’d done. My stupidity put him in this position, leaving him no choice but to either step up or be a shit father.
Nayloni lets us know the baby’s measurements are perfect, and after printing updated pictures for us, she gives me a moment to wipe off the gel and then escorts us to the examination room, where she says the doctor will be in shortly.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Lincoln the second the door closes. “What I did was wrong, and I’m so sorry I put you in this position. I had a one-track mind, and I didn’t consider the consequences. Just like I didn’t when I went to talk to Eleazar after Sienna told me not to. Had I—”
“Stop,” Lincoln says gently, pressing his palm to my cheek in a comforting manner. “I agreed to have sex with you. It was completely mutual, and the fact is, even though condoms are up to the guest, I always use them. But I didn’t with you, and even if you had been on birth control, nothing is one hundred percent effective. We both made our own decisions, and there’s no sense in pointing fingers or living with regrets.”
“You don’t regret spending the night with me?” I choke out, shocked by his admission.
“I wish I could say I did,” Lincoln admits with a shake of his head. “But that night, I connected with someone on a deeper level, and through that connection we created this.” He holds up the sonogram picture. “How could I possibly regret what happened, when, as a result, we created such a beautiful miracle?”
Holy shit. I never thought I would hear him say something like this. Since the moment I found out, I prayed for him to come around, to be a part of our baby’s life. When I was little, all I ever wanted was a family, but I accepted at a young age it would never happen, and when I found out I was pregnant, I was devastated because I knew Lincoln would be so mad, there’d be no hope of giving this baby a real family—one I never had. But now...is it possible?
“I want this baby,” he continues, his eyes locking with mine. “And I forgive you. It might not have happened how either of us planned, but we’re going to have a baby together, and I want to raise him with you. There’s no reason why we can’t do that as friends.”
Friends. Right. Of course. What was I thinking? That he’d declare his undying love for me after what I did? Sure, he’s a damn good person—which is why I knew I could trust him—and is willing to forgive me, but that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t see me as anything more than Ellie Bardot, his much younger sister-in-law, who he’s now stuck raising a baby with.
Fuck, I really did mess up.
“Knock, knock,” the doctor says, stepping into the room. “I’m Dr. Peterson.” She shakes my hand and then Lincoln’s.
“I’m Ellie, and this is the baby’s father, Lincoln.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you both. I spoke to Sienna at her checkup the other day, and she mentioned you’ve moved home and would be coming in.” Her smile is friendly, and I know right away why Sienna loves her.
“Why don’t you have a seat on the examination table” she continues. “I’d like to take your blood pressure.”
“Oh, it was done when I first got here,” I remark, sitting on the table.
“Yes, I saw. I’d like to double check it.” She puts the cuff on me and pumps it up until it’s beyond tight before slowly releasing the air. After she removes the cuff, she types something into her iPad and then has a seat in front of me.
“I’m concerned,” she says. “Your blood pressure is a bit high, which is common for women who have pregnancy anemia. You’re taking your supplements and iron, right?”
“Of course,” I say, starting to get worried.
She nods. “I’d like for you to pick up a blood pressure monitor. Take and record your blood pressure three times a day in a journal. I’m also going to suggest modified bed rest.”
Wait, what? “Bed rest? Like, I can’t get out of bed? I don’t understand. I feel fine. I’m young and active and eat healthy for the most part, aside from a few cravings. What am I doing wrong?”