Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 83872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” Cole finally whispered. “I’m a dad.”
I felt the side of my bed dip, and I looked over at him to find him staring at my belly. I removed my hands slowly, placing them on the covers beside me. He pushed my shirt up and rested his hand on my belly. You could sort of feel a bump. I hadn’t looked in the mirror to see if I could see one.
“Amelia, that’s my kid in there,” he whispered, a thousand emotions running through his voice.
I rolled my eyes at him. “No shit, Sherlock.” I cut his moment short by sitting up. I crossed my legs Indian style and let my eyes settle on his. “Cole, how are we going to make this work?” I asked him quietly.
He gave me an ‘are you fucking kidding me’ look. “How the fuck else do you think this is going to work?” Cole asked me. “I have feelings for you, and I know somewhere deep inside of you, you have feelings for me, too. We’ll be together and make it work for this baby.”
I got off of my bed quickly, putting my hands on my hips as I glared down at him. For so long, I had wanted Cole to admit his feelings for me. I didn’t want him to feel obligated to me just because he got me knocked up. I wouldn’t be our fucking parents; I wouldn’t be with him just because of a baby.
“That is an absolutely ridiculous idea!” I shouted at him. “Cole, I will not be like my mom and dad.” I ignored the pang that hit my heart when I mentioned my dad and continued on. “I will not be with you just because of this baby.”
“I’m not giving you a choice in this, Amelia,” he said, standing up as well, his tall frame towering over me.
“Like hell you aren’t,” I spit at him. “I’m my own fucking person, Cole. This baby does not give you some fucking ownership rights to me. Go fuck yourself, and get the fuck out of my room,” I snapped, pointing to the door.
Cole walked to my door, his back rigid. I knew he was pissed. Why he wasn’t arguing with me was beyond me. It wasn’t like him. “That’s it?” I asked him incredulously. Fuck, I didn’t know what in the hell I wanted. “You’re just going to walk out?”
Cole had never walked away from an argument; it wasn’t in his nature. Maybe he had realized how dumb his idea was. I wanted Cole more than anything, but not just because of baby.
“I’m going to get a drink, Amelia. I need a breather. You’re pissing me off.” I stopped listening to him. Fuck. I had been drinking. What did this mean for my baby? Oh, dear God.
I sat down on my bed heavily and grabbed my phone. Cole walked over to me immediately. “Amelia?” he asked, kneeling in front of me.
I put up a hand to his face. He shoved it away, but he kept scanning my features, trying to figure out what had bothered me so suddenly. “Hi, can I speak to Dr. Charles?” I asked the receptionist that answered the phone.
“Sure. Give me one moment while I direct your call.”
“Amelia, what the fuck is going on?” Cole demanded.
I shot him a pointed look, telling him to shut up for a moment. “Dr. Charles speaking. How may I help you?”
“Dr. Charles, it’s Amelia Johnson,” I told him. “I just saw you today.”
“Ah, Amelia. Is everything okay?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
I sighed and ran a hand through my bangs. “Actually, this just came to my mind, and it has me a little worried. I’m three months pregnant, and I’ve been drinking most of those days. How will that affect my pregnancy and my baby?”
He sighed at the same time Cole squeezed my thigh and sat next to me. “Okay. I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” Dr. Charles began. “Do you think that you can come in tomorrow?”
I nodded, though I knew he couldn’t see me. “Of course, I can,” I told him. If it meant making sure my child was okay, I would go to the ends of the fucking world tomorrow.
“Okay; I want you to come in at nine in the morning, and we’re going to do an ultrasound to look for any defects. We’ll also keep check throughout your entire pregnancy, but we won’t know how the alcohol consumption will affect your child’s brain until it has been born.”
I sighed. I had probably already fucked my child up, and it wasn’t even that old yet. “Okay. I’ll see you at nine. Thank you,” I murmured.
I hung up the phone and looked down at my hand that Cole was holding. He sighed, making me look up at him. “We’ll deal with it, baby,” he said gently. “I’m glad you thought about the alcohol though. I never would have.”