Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” I confirm, blinking away the tears. “I was wondering if you’re busy today at two?”
“I have practice this morning,” he says, “but I am free.” The pressure releases a bit from my chest.
“Do you think you can meet me?” I ask him, waiting for him to say no.
“Yes,” he replies softly. “Where?”
“I’ll send you the address.”
“Okay, see you later.”
“See you later,” I repeat back to him and put the phone down, taking a deep breath in and out, “At least he’s still talking to me,” I tell the baby as I put one hand on my stomach while I text him the address to meet me at.
“You’re up early,” Gabriella observes, coming down the stairs dressed in a skirt and a blouse.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I admit, and she walks over to the coffee machine, making herself a cup. She leans against the counter and looks at me.
“Your eyes are puffy,” she tells me, and I put my palm on them.
“I can imagine,” I reply and take a bite of my bagel.
“Everything okay?” she asks. I know this is her way of giving me space, but she’s internally freaking out.
“Not really. But the good news is he wants the baby.” I shrug, avoiding her eyes. “So that’s a win.”
“Did he say anything to hurt you?” she asks softly, and I look up at her.
“No,” I defend him, “he was sad I didn’t tell him.”
“Did you tell him why?” She folds her arms over her chest in defense mode.
“Not really,” I admit, “maybe some other time.”
“I think you should tell him why you didn’t tell him.” She pours herself a coffee in a silver thermos. “He deserves to know.”
I only nod at her. “I’ll see. Where are you going?”
“Work,” she groans as she grabs her camera bag. “I’ll text you later.”
“Have fun,” I say to her retreating back and all she does is flip me the finger.
I finish my bagel while I watch television. I wish I knew what the heck I am watching, but the truth be told, all I can think about is Tristan. Dr. Emmy calls me back an hour later to ask me questions, and I explain to her what I would like to do. I can hear her smile on the phone when she tells me she’ll see me later.
Grabbing a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, I try my best to cover up my swollen eyes. I slip into a button-down linen top on my way out, leaving the buttons open, my little baby bump showing a touch. I make my way to Dr. Emmy’s clinic office, which is different from the hospital one.
When I walk in, the woman behind the desk asks for my name and tells me to sit down. I’m not sitting for more than a minute when the door opens, and he walks in. The smile fills my face when I see him wearing black jeans and a white polo shirt, with a black tracksuit jacket with the team logo on it. A Dallas Oilers baseball cap is on his head as he looks around the room and finds me.
He walks over to me as he tries to take in the office. “Hey, sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not late,” I assure him as he sits next to me and his arm touches mine. His smell makes my body become alive, and I can picture me in his arms. “I just got here.”
He looks around before looking at me. “What are we doing here?”
I take a deep breath in, thinking maybe this wasn’t the greatest idea I’ve had, and maybe, just maybe, I should have asked him before just bringing him here. “I’m trying to make it right.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, his face filled with questions. I’m about to say something when the nurse comes out and calls my name.
I get up, walking toward the cream door, and I can feel him following me. I look over my shoulder and see him checking out everything. The nurse opens the door to the exam room, and Dr. Emmy is in there waiting already. She is sitting on the stool, reading something on the computer screen in front of her. “Abigail,” she says my name with a smile.
“Tristan.” I look over at him as he walks into the room. “This is Dr. Emmy.” His face drains of all color when I say this.
“Is everything…” He stops talking to swallow. “Is everything okay?” He looks from me to the doctor and then back to me. “Is something wrong?”
I take a step forward, slipping my hand in his, and maybe because he’s worried about me, he lets me. ‘Everything is fine,” I assure him softly. “This is me showing you, our baby.” His eyes find mine and I really hope he can see the love I feel for him and our child in them. “I want you to know that I have no idea what we are having.” I walk over to the table and sit down. “I also want you to know that this is the third time I’ve done this.” I lean back on the table, putting my feet up before lifting my shirt a bit and then lowering my pants.