Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
“It’s been longer than that.” For fuck’s sake, they’re definitely broken. “Much longer.”
“No, it hasn’t. Stop being neurotic.” She releases me and mirrors my bent frame, and I look out the corner of my eye, well aware she’s making fun of me.
She grins. It’s beautiful. She’s about to have it confirmed beyond all doubt that she is carrying my child, and she’s grinning. I don’t know what’s changed, but I’m fucking grateful. “I’m not neurotic.”
“Of course you’re not.” Her dark hair falls over her shoulders, skimming her nipples. How the hell am I still standing here and not carrying her to the bed?
“Are you taking the piss out of me, lady?”
“Not at all.” Her lips twitch. “My Lord.”
She’s got that right. Her Lord, her God, her everything.
What the fuck is wrong with these tests?
This is ridiculous. If she’s pregnant, the baby will be here before these fucking tests tell us she’s on her way. I inhale subtly. She? Would I get the privilege of having a little girl again? Would I—
My thoughts pause when I notice a change in the window of the first test. I lean in more, blink my eyes so I don’t have to blink them again anytime soon. Is that a P?
I feel every muscle and limb stiffen, my lungs inflating, my breath held. Is that an R? I quickly check the other two tests. More letters. Fucking hell. I stare, my eyes burning, not daring to blink, as a whole word slowly forms before my eyes.
Pregnant.
I snap my eyes to the second.
Pregnant.
My heart bucks, and I quickly check the last test.
Pregnant.
Jesus.
Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant.
We’re pregnant.
My whole body starts to shake, and I absolutely cannot control it. Pregnant. Swallowing, struggling for air, I turn my wide eyes onto Ava. She’s still bent over too. Smiling mildly, watching me process what I’m seeing.
Pregnant.
“Hi, Daddy,” she breathes, her lip definitely wobbling. Like my body.
Daddy.
“Fuck . . . me.” I asked for this. Prayed for this. Manipulated everything for this to happen. And now it has? “I can’t breathe.” Or stand. My legs fail me, and I crumble to the floor, breathless, full of so many more emotions, I’m not sure where to start sorting them out.
“Are you okay?” Ava’s quiet, unsure question wakes me from my trance, and I look at her. I don’t see just Ava, though. I see . . . my family. I see a second chance. I see an opportunity to make right what went so horribly wrong.
I see the chance to make Rosie proud. But it fucking kills me that my little girl won’t be here to see me return to the man she made me before I lost myself.
The emotions suddenly unravel and overpower me, and my eyes well, a mixture of pure elation and sadness devastating me, but for Ava, I must be happy. Stable. Fucking hell. I smile through my grief and get up before she sees my tears, grabbing her and hauling her into my body, hiding my face in her neck, holding her tightly.
“What’s the matter with you?” she gasps, taken aback, as I walk into the bedroom and put her on the bed, removing her towel—skin on skin, I need skin on skin—and laying myself on her lower body, my face level with her stomach. Fuck, I can’t get ahold of these fucking tears.
Understandable, Daddy.
You’ve got this, bro.
Shit.
I stare down at Ava’s stomach, marveling at the wonder of life growing. Life created by me. It’s hard to accept, hard to swallow, when I’ve spent years thinking I’m only capable of taking life. Ruining it. I gaze up at my wife—how fucking lucky I am to call her that—and am greeted by a mixture of contentment and concern. “I love you,” I say softly. I’m not only speaking to Ava. I’m speaking to Rosie. To Jake. “So much.”
We know.
Ava’s hands work through my wet hair, her body settling. “I know.”
I have to kiss her stomach. Feel it. And, God, it feels incredible. It’s a new addition to my need list. This. Every day. “And I love you too.” My baby who I’m yet to meet. I kiss my way all over Ava’s belly, excited that with each day her tummy grows, it’ll need another kiss to cover it in kisses. I might need to quit work. I’m not sure she’ll appreciate me following her around with my mouth attached to her, fetching everything she needs fetching, carrying everything she needs carrying, including her. Driving her, feeding her. The list of responsibilities is endless.
I work my mouth over Ava’s boobs until my face is level with hers and I’m once again taking in this beautiful, sassy young woman and trying to comprehend that she is mine. “I’ll try to be better,” I say as she smiles up at me. “With you, I mean. I’ll try not to smother you and make you crazy.”