Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
But I wouldn’t be able to do that.
Not now. Not two weeks from now. Never.
“I’m seventeen weeks,” she said.
My eyes widened. “That many already?” I asked in alarm.
That left how many more? Twentyish?
Jesus Christ. She was literally almost halfway done!
Holy fuck!
My belly started to sour as I thought about a brand new kid coming into this shitty world.
A world that was rife with war, debt, famine, and laziness.
I never wanted to bring my kid into this world in the first place. I would be a shitty ass father.
A man that thought about killing himself until he met the baby’s mother.
A man that had killed his best friend.
A man that had killed so many men in his lifetime that I would probably pay for it in my afterlife.
I was literally the last person on Earth that deserved something so innocent.
So pure.
“What floor are you going to?” Another woman that was overly pregnant asked.
I turned my eyes to her, and then said, “Fourth floor.” At the same time that Kitt replied with “Fifth floor.”
The woman pressed both the fourth and fifth floor buttons, and I eyed Kitt with confusion.
She waited until the woman got off at the third floor before she said, “I have a surprise for you.”
Brows furrowed, we ignored the doors when they opened for the fourth floor and got out on the fifth.
It opened up into a large waiting room that looked like it was the central hub for multiple offices.
We went to the one that was labeled as ‘Baby Vision.’
“It’s not a psychiatrist, is it?” I asked jokingly.
She eyed me.
“Do you need a psychiatrist?” She eyed me.
I nodded.
She snorted.
“We could write a book together about all of our experiences. I’d bet it’d be a bestseller,” she teased.
My heart started racing at the idea of telling anyone anything about my life.
It’d been hard enough telling the boys.
Telling anyone else, let alone having people read my experiences, was terror inducing.
“I…” I started to say, but stopped when Kitt went up to the window, leaned against the counter, and thrust her back out to stretch it.
“Hi, Kitt,” the woman behind the counter greeted her by name. “You ready for today?”
Kitt nodded enthusiastically. “I am.”
“This the daddy?” She asked, taking a long hard look at me.
Kitt looked over her shoulder at me, then turned back to the woman with a smile.
“It is,” she confirmed.
The woman, Ann Marie, her nametag read, smiled and stood up.
“I’m glad you were able to convince him to come,” she said. “You ready?”
Kitt nodded emphatically.
“Most definitely,” she promised.
“Alright,” she opened the door that led to the back entrance. “Did you have your pop today?”
Kitt laughed.
“Yes, I had a coke today,” she promised.
The two ladies shared a secret laugh about something I wasn’t privy to, and walked back towards a back room.
It was more than obvious that Kitt came here a lot. Enough that the two had an inside joke, even.
I felt out of place.
My eyes took in every single thing in the entire place, finally settling on the couch with a plethora of pillows mounding it.
There was also a table set up next to a computer with about eight million buttons on it.
And it was then that I realized what was going on.
But before I could fully back out of the room, both women grabbed me by a hand and pulled me to the couch that was directly in front of the biggest flat screen TV I’d ever seen.
“Today’s the gender scan. We usually do this between eighteen and twenty weeks, but since Kitt’s going to be gone to Dallas next week for some testing for her seizures, we’re going to go ahead and do it today,” Ann Marie said.
I looked over to Kitt sharply.
That was the first thing I’d heard about her going to Dallas for a week.
I would’ve asked her about it, too, but she quickly changed the subject, bringing my attention straight back to the screen in front of me.
“We get to see whether we’re having a boy or a girl!” She rubbed her hands excitedly.
I gritted my teeth and looked at the screen, trying hard to make my heart stop pounding so hard.
It was a stupid thing to try to do.
I couldn’t control my body’s reactions, which had gotten me into trouble in the first place.
“Okay,” Ann Marie said. “Let’s get started.”
I left the appointment an hour later, promising myself that I would make each and every appointment until the baby—my baby girl—was born.
Even the ones in Dallas.
Why, you ask, did I start wanting that now?
Because I noticed a pattern.
Kitt only had seizures after she had a long, exciting day.
And if I could help prevent that in any way, I would.
I’d already noticed she’d quit school.
Not that I’d had a problem with that.
She had, and I felt bad.
Whatever was going on with this pregnancy was quickly taking almost every single freedom she had, and replacing them with fear and uncertainty.