My eyes well when I look at Blake whose face has relaxed from just a couple minutes ago. There really is a baby in there.
The doctor takes the stool next to me, typing in the computer. “Do you remember when your last period was?” she asks.
I shake my head. I’ve never been one to mark it on my calendar and since they are so irregular, it’s not like I can just count back.
“What I’d like to do then today is an ultrasound to determine how far along you are. Lay up on the table so I can take a look at your stomach then I’ll have the nurse walk you down to radiology.”
Blake watches as she positions me, and gently presses against my abdomen. “Do most women know they’re pregnant before they take a test?” he asks.
Dr. Phelps smiles down at me. “Of course. That’s why most women buy the tests before they even call the doctor. There are very few who I’ve broken the news to.”
“How far along are they when they usually figure it out?”
She looks at me curiously, but answers anyway. “Generally anywhere from four to eight weeks. It all depends on the regularity of their cycles and how their body adjusts to the increased hormones.”
I turn my head to look at him; he looks so pale. My mind wanders, and it hits me that if I’m any further than six weeks along, the baby could be Pierce’s. If it’s going through my head, it must be hammering into his.
“Okay, Lila, let’s get you down to radiology.” She turns to Blake, holding her hand out. “I’m sorry, but I forgot to ask your name.”
“Blake,” he says quietly, accepting her hand.
“I’m assuming you’re the father. Congratulations,” Dr. Phelps says.
He simply nods as he looks past her to me. There’s question in his eyes, mixed with a pain I’ve seen a few times before. It’s the look he often has before he runs.
“Follow me,” Dr. Phelps instructs, motioning to the door. If she picks up on the tension in the room, she doesn’t say it.
I follow the doctor, and Blake stays behind me. His mood changed quickly; I’m used to that, but not here. Not when I need him now more than I ever have, and even if this baby is Pierce’s, it wouldn’t change how I feel.
Blake is it. He’s the one I want to spend forever with.
The doctor hands me a gown. “Take everything off from the waist down. We have to us the transvaginal ultrasound this early to detect the baby.”
The door closes, and I quickly undress and pull the gown on oblivious to Blake. My teeth chatter as I lay on the table waiting for the ultrasound. The room isn’t cold, but my nerves are getting the best of me. What happens in this room could change everything or nothing at all.
The tech explains the probe then gently inserts it inside me. It feels strange at first, but everything else on my mind makes the sensation easy to ignore. Blake doesn’t say a thing as he stands a few feet away, hands tucked in his jean pockets. I know he senses me watching him, but he keeps his eyes on the monitor.
“Is this your first baby?” the tech asks as she watches the screen.
I wait a few seconds to see if Blake will respond, but he doesn’t. “Yes,” I answer, biting down on my lower lip.
She stops on a black oval shape. “There’s your baby,” she says pointing to a small, light colored spot within it. It looks like a little white bean.
This is when it first hits me … that I’m going to be a mom. It’s one thing to know, but when you actually see it growing inside of you, it’s a whole new feeling. Not too long from now, this little baby is going to count on me for everything. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’ll always be mom to him or her.
Tears fill my eyes as I watch the tech take measurements. My little bean is going to come into the world soon and become the greatest thing I’ve ever accomplished … greatest things we’ve ever accomplished.
The door clicks, and I look over noticing the tech and I are the only ones left in the room. I want to yell for him, but what would be the point? He’s been running scared since the day I met him. What made me think he would change now?
A few words … a few promises. Maybe they were empty after all.
A single tear rolls down my face as I focus my attention back on the screen, and the dark room provides a good mask.
“The doctor wanted me to measure and see how far along you are; from the measurements I just took, I’d guess you’re at five weeks.”
A lump forms in my throat. I panic, and the words just come out. “Does that mean the baby was conceived five weeks ago?”
“No, no, it means you more than likely conceived about three weeks ago. It’s hard to say at this point, but from looking at the size of the yolk sac, it couldn’t have been more than a few days before that. Pregnancies are kind of weird in that way—the weeks start ticking before there’s ever a baby. Does that make sense?”
I nod out of relief. I understand the important part—that this is Blake’s baby. The rest can wait until later.
She removes the probe and helps me up from the table. “Let me get you some pictures before you leave,” she says. She pulls them from the machine and smiles, handing me three. “Hopefully, he’ll come around,” she says softly, squeezing my shoulder.
If only she knew he comes and goes faster than the seasons change. I change quickly, and as I make my way out the door, my mind wanders to where he might be. What made him leave before he even knew? If he left again, I’m not taking him back. This time, he’s not going to be the one to take it all away.
Surprisingly, he’s standing a few feet from the door with his back against the wall. One glimpse of his red eyes and some of the frustration eases away.
“Is there somewhere we can go to talk?” he asks. He’s looking at me but not really. He’s here, but yet he’s gone. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
WHEN HE ASKED, I PICKED the farm because it gives me peace. It’s where I always used to go when I needed time to think or mend a broken heart. If he’s going to hurt me, he might as well do it here.
Not a word was said on the way out to the car or on the ten-minute drive out here besides a few directions from me on where to turn.
He pulls into the drive of my grandparents’ old farm. My dad inherited it after grandma passed away a couple years ago but he hasn’t gotten up the nerve to sell it, and I don’t think he ever will. I hope not anyway. Behind the house is a big red barn and just beyond that is a narrow creek and miles of cornfields. Along the creek is where I like to sit and think. No one bothers me back there.
“Park in front of the barn,” I instruct.
He does, and I waste no time jumping out to grab one of grandpa’s old horse blankets from the barn.
“Where are you going?” he yells from behind me.
“Meet me behind the barn!” I yell back, not even bothering to look at him. Sometimes, when you feel your heart cracking, you do your best to build a shield around it so the pieces won’t fall apart completely. That’s what I’m doing—bracing for the worst while also trying to convince myself I can do this on my own. It won’t be easy—nothing ever is—but I’ve proven to myself over the last year that I’m strong. Hopefully, I’m strong enough to get through this.
When I walk out behind the barn, he’s standing with his back to me overlooking the water. I would give anything to have a glimpse inside his head … to get a snapshot of his thoughts.
“Here,” I say, throwing the blanket down to clear a spot in the long grass. Dad doesn’t get out here to mow often.
“I’m okay,” he replies as I sit down, resting back on my elbows. The warm sun beats down on my pale legs, but I can’t complain because this is what summer on the farm is all about.
“Blake, I need you to say something. I may not like what you’re about to say, but silence is worse,” I admit.
“Do you ever wonder if you really control any part of your life?” he asks, throwing a long piece of grass into the creek.
I’m not sure where he’
s going, but I play anyway. “I think our lives are ours to live. Things we don’t plan for are simply obstacles.”
“I didn’t want to get married at such a young age, but with her I just knew. She made me want to be better without even asking. My job was to protect her—make sure she had everything she needed—but I couldn’t even do that. I didn’t chose to live without her, and sometimes when things are really bad, I go to the studio and pretend she’s still at home waiting for me.”
My heart hammers as I wait for him to start talking again. I wonder if he feels it, or if he feels it too much, and that’s why he can’t look at me. I’m waiting for the part where he tells me he can’t do this, and as much as I thought I was prepared for it, it’s going to crush me.
“There’s something I’ve never told anyone. It’s been slowly eating away at me, and I’m not going to be the father your baby deserves unless I deal with it.”
I open my mouth to tell him it’s our baby, but he cuts me off. “The day I lost Aly, I lost a baby too. One I didn’t even know she was carrying.”
My mouth gapes. I never thought … I never would have thought. “How did you find out?” I whisper, quietly standing behind him. I want so badly to wrap my arms around him.
“The doctor told me after her autopsy. He guessed she was about eight weeks along.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Do you think she knew?”
I can’t take it anymore. I wrap my arms around his waist. I’m not sure where this is going … where we’re going, but he shouldn’t go through this alone. “That she was pregnant?”
“Yeah,” he whispers.
My cheek rests on his warm T-shirt, feeling how fast his heart beats. “No, I don’t think she knew. It’s hard to describe, but after only a few days, I already love my little bean. I want to do everything right by him or her. I couldn’t imagine … I couldn’t.”
He inhales a deep breath. “She used to talk about having kids. I wasn’t ready and didn’t think it would be good for her. After she died, I thought—” he chokes up, his breaths coming faster.
“It’s okay. You don’t need to tell me.” Tears stream down my cheeks. His pain is mine. It has been since he stole my heart all those months ago.
His hand covers mine. “No, I do. I’ve kept it in for so long. After she died, I thought she did it because she didn’t want to disappoint me. That maybe she knew, and didn’t want to tell me. That maybe she thought I’d leave her.”
“It’s not your fault,” I cry, pressing a kiss to his spine. So much of what’s happened over the last week makes sense now. He wasn’t running from me; he was running from the memories.
“Do you believe in God?” he asks out of the blue.
“Yes. He’s given me more than I think I can handle a few times, but I’ve always gotten through with his help.”
“I used to, but after everything that happened with Aly, I couldn’t. Why did he let her get to that point? Why would he let an innocent baby die in the process? Why didn’t he give me a reason to stay that night?”
“She was sick, Blake. She may not be here anymore, and there may be a baby you never got to meet, but God made them angels. They’re watching over you, and they’d want you to be happy. I know she’d want you to be happy.”
His whole body shakes. I loosen my grip and move around to face him. I thought my heart broke when Derek ended our relationship. I thought it shattered when Blake left on Christmas Day. Those were merely cracks compared to what I’m feeling now staring up at Blake. I’ve never seen a person look so defeated—the wet lines down his cheeks, the way his shoulders curl over his chest, clenched jaw, skin bunched around his eyes in a pained stare.
“She left a note.” His voice shakes.
My hands move up and down his arms, trying to comfort him, but I can’t take my eyes from his face. No matter how much it hurts, I can’t.
“She said she thought I’d be better off without her. She said I’d be able to move on with my life without having to worry about her. She said she loved me … that she’d always love me.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “Maybe she just didn’t know how much I loved her. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done for her.”
Holding his face in my hands, I force him to look at me. “That tells me she knew you loved her so much you’d never give up on her. She was tired, Blake, and she didn’t want you to live that way. You were never going to give up on her.”
I swipe my thumbs under his eyes, trying to wipe some of the tears away.
“She was pregnant in the picture I painted of her,” he says after a couple minutes pass. “She was going to be a mom and didn’t even know it.”
“You’ll have that—the painting and the memory.”
He nods against my palms. “I’m starting to believe in God again.”
“Yeah?”
His eyes find mine for the first time since we’ve been out here. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you, but you changed that because … because you’re you. I never wanted to come back after I left, but you were all I could think about no matter how much I tried not to. You’re stuck in me, or I’m stuck in you. Fate didn’t put us in that apartment together; I think God did. He handed me what I needed when he gave me you.”
I stand on my tiptoes, kissing his salty lips. “You’re my super glue, too, Blake. Until I met you, I was falling apart. Our love isn’t easy. We’ve had to fight for it, but it makes us stronger.”
“The night you told me you were pregnant, I left because it brought back too many memories. I needed some time to sort out my feelings, but I want this baby with you. I do, Lila.”
Everything makes sense now. He’s not running from me. He runs from his memories … or to them. I guess it depends how you look at it.
His hands circle my neck, his thumbs running along my jawline. “And when I walked out of the room today, it wasn’t about you either. I felt like I was losing it. It was selfish, and I’m sorry.”
“Do you want to see the pictures?”
“You have pictures?”
I nod, smiling. “Give me your keys.”
He does, and I take off running to his car to grab my purse. I pull them out and run back as fast as my feet will let me in the tall grass. “Here,” I say, handing them over to him.
His brows furrow as he rotates the pictures around.
“You can’t see much yet, but that’s our baby right there.” I point to the little white dot. “That’s why I’m calling him or her bean.”
“And everything looks good?” he asks, running his finger along the picture.
“So far, so good. I’m due in April.”
He places his finger under my chin to bring my eyes from the picture to his. “Even if bean isn’t mine, I’m not going anywhere. I mean what the tech said—”
“It’s yours. She put me at five weeks which means the baby was conceived about three weeks ago.”
He wraps his arms around me tightly. “Oh, thank God.”
I brush my lips against his neck. “It would have been you for me either way, too.”
“Are you feeling okay?” he asks, pulling back just a bit.
“Yeah, I just need to sit down. I’m feeling kind of tired … it’s been a long day.”
“Give me a second.” He sits down on the blanket, patting the space between his legs. “Sit.”
And I do, laying my head back on his shoulder. We listen to the sounds of the water running in the creek, and the few cars that drive by in the distance. It’s the most at peace I’ve felt in a long time.
“Have you ever thought about living out here?” he asks after a few minutes.
“A few times. This is my place I come to when I need to get away from everything else just to think.”
“I like it out here,” he admits.
I try to imagine Blake on the farm working in nothing but his jeans, sweat drenching his hair and chest. It’s not a bad picture.
“When we get b
ack to Chicago, I’m going to tell Pierce that I can’t keep working for him. It’s not fair to you, and I’m sorry.”
“What are you going to tell him?”
I shrug. “He knows about the baby. I think I’m just going to tell him I’m taking some time off to concentrate on me … us.”
His body tenses. “When did you tell him?”
“The day we went to New York. I was sick and could barely function. I needed someone to talk to. He’s the one who flew me here.”
“I hate that he’s always saving you from me. I’m done giving him reasons to save you.”
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. Is there anything else you want to tell me so you don’t have a reason to run anymore?”
He groans, wrapping his arms around me. “Pierce was the one who gave me your parents’ address. I called him after your text and promised him I was going to do my best by you. Took me almost twenty minutes, but the perfect ass finally gave it to me.”
That’s one thing to thank Pierce for when I talk to him. “Is there anything else?”
“Just that I love you. I’m all out of secrets.”
I push my way out of his arms, and turn around straddling his lap. Folding my arms around his neck, I kiss every inch of his handsome face ending with his lips. We kiss until I’m out of breath and numb.
“Does anyone ever come back here?” he asks between kisses.
“Just me.”
His lips brush against my throat, his hand tugging on the neck of my T-shirt to give him access to my chest. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you.”
“Just stay,” I pant. “That’s all I need you to do … stay.”
“What else?” he asks, pulling my bra below my breast, sucking on my nipple. They may be a little tender, but he does it gently. My hormones are out of control—I either find myself wanting to cry or have my clothes ripped off. Pregnancy is going to be interesting.
I tug at the bottom of his shirt until he lifts his arms allowing me to take it off. “I need you.”
“You don’t have to ask twice,” he murmurs, his lips still exploring my skin.