Chapter 28

" A re you pregnant?"

Her chin quivers and her eyes fill with tears. Without answering, she drops her head into her hands and weeps. Shit. I sit next to her on the bed. I should be upset with her—I am upset with her, but all I can think is please be mine .

I wrap an arm around her shaking shoulders. She's crying too much for telling me she's pregnant, and it hits me that maybe something happened. "Are you and the baby okay?"

She nods, still bawling into her palms. I release the breath I was holding.

"Is it mine?"

When she looks up, she sobs harder. My eyes swell with tears to see her hurt this way.

"I'm the worst person. I'm so sorry, Sully. I'm so fucking sorry. I thought I couldn't get pregnant. I wasn't supposed to be able to have kids. And then I didn't know how to tell you. Everything was so complicated and-and…" She sputters, trying to catch her breath.

"Is it mine?" I repeat. If it's not, I have a decision to make, but I'm prepared to fight for her.

"Of course it is!"

She's pregnant with my baby. It's mine.

She wipes her face on her two-sizes-too-big gray sweatshirt sleeve and takes a deep breath. "I should have told you earlier. I just didn't know how to do it without jeopardizing our careers, and you have this new coaching thing, and I know how important hockey—" Her chest is heaving.

"Okay."

"…and coaching is for you. But if I was going to keep this baby, I needed my job. I couldn't do it without my job. I was going to tell you, I swear I was, I just wanted to wait until—" She's practically hyperventilating.

Cupping her face, I swipe the tears away. "Breathe, Kendra."

She sucks in two deep breaths back-to-back, like she can't get in enough air.

"Slower," I say in a calm voice.

I inhale slowly to show her, then exhale, counting to four. She matches her breaths to mine, and it's not long before her chest softens and she's no longer winded.

"We'll talk about it later. Right now, just breathe. I'm going to get you some water."

"I have water." She tips her head toward her nightstand where a tall metal water bottle sits. I reach for it and place it in her hands, and she drinks without me having to force it.

"Have you eaten?"

She nods. "I had some strawberries and some of those spice cakes Micky makes. Raleigh brought me soup."

I kick off my shoes, put my feet up, and lie next to her. When she's done drinking the water, I place it back on the nightstand and pull her into my arms. Her tense muscles relax, and she rests her head on my shoulder, delivering a final shuddered sigh. Like I knew it would, her body fits perfectly next to mine. I stare at the ceiling.

Holy shit. I'm going to be a father.

My immediate reaction is to panic, but the smell of her shampoo invades my senses and brings me peace. I'm going to be a father… and she will be a mother . She's so young; I can't imagine the stress she's been under.

I curl my arm around her body and haul her closer, then skate my fingers up and down her back. It feels so good to touch her the way I want. She wraps around my middle, nuzzling into my chest. Christ, I missed this.

The show is over. Not sure how I'll break the news that I'm out, but there's no way I'm going back now. I'll get my lawyer involved, and we'll figure it out. It was one thing to do it for the coaching position, but there's zero chance of me continuing to date other women while the mother of my child stands behind the camera and watches. It's not like Scoring with Sully was something on my bucket list. This simply makes the decision to leave much easier. I'm done fucking around. It doesn't take an idiot to know Kendra will fight me on it. We can talk about that part later. I'm not about to send her spiraling into a panic all over again.

"Why are you so weird about making sure I drink water and eat and rest all the time?"

I sigh. "Just want to take care of you, Kendra." She's so busy all the time and takes care of herself last. "And now that I know you're carrying our baby… it's going to be double." I pinch her side, and she retreats. Not willing to let her put an inch between us, I pull her into me again.

" Our baby," she murmurs, repeating my words barely above a whisper. "Why aren't you yelling? You should hate me right now."

How could I ever hate her? I'm disappointed she kept something like this from me. I'm scared for the future and what this change will bring. How we'll navigate parenthood together. I worry about the level of involvement she'll let me have. But another part of me feels ready. A part of me that fucking loves our predicament. Our child ties her to me forever; she can't walk away easily. We're good together, and now I get a chance—and a reason—to prove it.

"I wish you would have told me. Have you been going to doctor appointments by yourself?"

"Raleigh was going to go with me to the next one."

"From now on, I'm taking you. Raleigh can stay in the waiting room. I go to the appointments. I listen to the heartbeat. I see the ultrasounds." I tilt up her chin to look at me. "If something happens to you or the baby, you call me . From now on, that's how it's going to be, Kendra. Is that clear?"

She nods.

I will be patient with her for as long as she needs me to be, but she can't push me away when it comes to the health of her or our child.

"Are you mad at me?"

I shake my head. "No…I'm not mad." I loosen my grip on her chin and brush my thumb over her full bottom lip. "I'm just disappointed."

She laughs over a sob. "You picked that up quickly."

The corner of my mouth curls into a half smile. "Better start practicing."

After seeing how empty her fridge is, I ordered groceries and a few miscellaneous things. There's a large Sugar and Ice bakery box on the counter, the box is big enough to hold a hundred of those spice cakes, and I'm not sure how many she started off with, but there's half a dozen left. I steal one from the box and find it's stale so text Micky and find out that Kendra's been picking up weekly orders of them. Apparently, it's one of the only things she can keep down. I offer to pay triple if she'll deliver a fresh batch within the hour.

Next, I contact a florist and purchase two large bouquets with rush delivery. When I was here last, she mentioned how much she enjoyed having fresh flowers around. The ones she had aren't there anymore, so I want to get them replaced.

When the flowers arrive, the vibrant pink peonies with golden stamens are exactly what I pictured when I described what I wanted to the florist. The woman included a mix of green spider chrysanthemums, pink and orange roses, and a few colorful ranunculi. It's a cacophony of colors that remind me of her. I place one of the arrangements in the living room and the other in the bedroom for her to see when she wakes from her nap.

Micky's delivery driver arrives with the spice cakes shortly after. I check the time, five o'clock. When I enter her bedroom, she's still in a deep sleep. This woman is exhausted. I'm not sure how long she's been running on fumes, but she has a serious sleep debt to pay off. She barely stirs when I crawl into bed and curve my body behind hers while resisting the urge to touch her stomach. I'll wait for her to invite me. Which I hope is soon, even if there's nothing to feel. I want to be a part of this, but she's got to invite me in.

Her peaceful breaths are soothing as I rack my brain for ways to keep her and my coaching position.

At some point, I fell asleep, then I wake to her stretching next to me.

"Oh my God!"

The sky is dark. I open one eye to check my watch, almost eight. "Hm?" I ask, my eyes closed. I didn't need the nap like she did, but it's easy to fall asleep with her in my arms, and now I'm struggling to move.

"Where did these peonies come from?"

I smile, pressing my lips to the back of her neck. "You were out of fresh flowers. I remember you saying you liked having them around."

She spins and wraps her arm over my side. "You didn't have to do that."

I grab under her thigh and bring it over mine. "It makes me look good."

She lets out a small laugh. "I wanted flowers today… Really. I almost bought them earlier. But then I bought nail polish instead." She yawns. "Raleigh and I were going to give each other pedicures."

That makes me happy to hear. "I'll make sure you always have flowers, baby girl… What would you like for dinner?" She groans. "What?"

"I have a lot of morning sickness—all day sickness, really. The doctor told me to eat little meals often. But I think I waited too long. My stomach feels queasy."

"Does anything sound good? How about one of those spice cakes?" When Raleigh was pregnant with Darby, she would throw up every time she smelled raw chicken.

"Yeah… yeah, I can try that. How did you know I liked those?" She sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed and halts her movement. "Just give me a minute," she says, breathing in slowly through her nose.

"Saw them on your counter… Feeling sick?"

She nods. Poor thing. I get up and walk around the bed, standing in front of her and extending my hand. After a moment, she takes it, and I pull her to her feet.

She keeps our fingers linked all the way to the living room, where I carry a spare table to the couch. I walk into the kitchen to grab her food. "These flowers are gorgeous." She laughs. "How many of these did you buy?"

"Just two," I call from the kitchen while grabbing a plate with a few of those cake things and bring them to her along with a glass of water. She nibbles at the food, taking the smallest bites I've ever seen. "Do you want to watch something?"

"Sure."

I lean back on the couch next to her and point the remote at the television, opening Netflix and scrolling through the options.

She pulls her plate into her lap and settles in next to me, allowing me to put my arm around her. We have a lot to talk about, but it's so nice to act like a normal couple, even if it's temporary. She seems to appreciate the casualness too. We know there's a shitshow on our hands, but for now, I've been waiting months for this. To just be .

"Damn it," I say, disheartened.

"What?"

"The oldest thing I can find is Bridge on The River Kwai from 1957. You'd think they'd have a bigger collection of talkies for you! Who's running this thing, Gen Alpha?"

"You're such a bitch." She laughs and shakes her head. "There is nothing wrong with enjoying the classics."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I think that's pretty obvious, based on your Netflix algorithm." There's hardly anything made after 2005. "What are you in the mood for?"

"I'd kill for a good squid documentary," she mutters. I smile, thinking about that night. That was the night I knew we weren't done. "Find us a throwback," she says, chewing a bite. She's finished one of the cakes and is starting on the second. Atta girl.

"How big of a throwback are we talking?" There's no way of knowing when it comes to this woman. " Casablanca or The Devil Wears Prada ?"

"Um… somewhere in the middle."

I find the romances and name off titles older than her.

" Dirty Dancing ."

"No."

" Ghost ."

"No."

" Eyes Wide Shut ."

She turns her head to look at me.

"What?"

She smiles. "No… Oooh!" She points at the screen. " Love and Basketball . I haven't seen it in forever. I used to watch it all the time, it's a comfort movie."

"That's your comfort movie? He cheats on her!" I argue. I saw it in the theaters when I was younger, and that scene stung.

"It breaks your heart and then puts it back together. Makes you feel something!"

" Eyes Wide Shut makes me feel something."

"I bet it does. Love and Basketball. "

"Okay, baby. You hungry for anything else yet?" I ask, starting the movie.

She shakes her head, picking up another mini spice cake. "Are you? I don't have a ton of groceries, but you're welcome to make yourself whatever. Or we can order a pizza or something." The groceries she bought earlier consisted of peanut butter, bread, strawberries, raspberries, and a bottle of nail polish. I don't tell her I filled her fridge, for fear she'll feel smothered. Besides, I ate earlier.

Her pretty eyes glance up at me. "Will you stay the night?" The question warms me to my bones. I want to kiss her so bad. The most I'll let myself do is hold her… for now. She needs comfort, anything more than that will lead to other things, so I have to keep myself in check.

"Yeah, baby girl. I'll stay." I pause. "But I'm going to sleep on the sofa."

She furrows her brow. "You don't have to."

Yes I do. There's no way I'll keep my hands to myself. It was hard enough sleeping next to her at the hotel. I'm sticking to my vow: I won't sleep with her until she's ready to give us a shot. If I give in tonight, the false hope will be crushing when she fights me on it tomorrow. Something I know she will do—but I'm not going to think about that I'm letting myself have this moment.

"It's not a good idea… At least not until we talk about everything. Let's just watch the movie."

We have a lot to discuss.