Chapter 14

14

BECKA COULDN’T STOP pacing as they waited for the doctor to arrive. It had been bad enough during the last appointment, sitting by herself in the consulting room with the knowledge like a rock in her gut that everything had changed and there was no going back. That was before her body had started actually showing changes. Now her stomach had a definite curve and she could actually feel the baby move regularly.

This was real.

It was happening.

She should sit down. Should be able to handle this despite feeling like she was one sharp move away from coming out of her skin. She couldn’t. Nerves kept her moving despite Aaron’s increasing stillness. He’d stopped watching her several minutes ago and had taken up staring at the door as if he could summon the doctor faster through sheer willpower. Knowing Aaron, it was entirely possible.

She was fucking this up, but she couldn’t stop. The future sat like a weight around her neck, threatening to take her to her knees. She might be able to forget the circumstances that had brought her and Aaron back together when they were going about their lives. Playing house. There was no forgetting in that clinic room. The truth was in every diagram on the walls and the table with its thin paper laid over it. It was in the sterile hospital smell that even places like this held. It was even in the quiet murmur she could hear from beyond the walls on either side of them and in the hall as nurses led other patients through the warren of rooms.

I’m having a baby.

I’m having a baby with Aaron.

A knock on the door brought her up short. Dr. Richardson, a short Filipina lady who’d been Becka’s gynecologist since she was sixteen, poked her head in and smiled warmly. “Becka, it’s good to see you again.” She stepped into the room and closed the door softly behind her before turning and extending a hand to Aaron. “Dr. Richardson.”

“Aaron Livingston.” He gave what appeared to be a firm handshake and sat back.

The doctor motioned to the table. “Shall we?”

Becka sat on the table and suffered through having her vitals taken while Dr. Richardson asked her the normal questions. No, she had no concerns. Yes, she was taking her prenatal vitamin. Yes, she was getting enough sleep. No, no weird cravings for nonfood items. Unsurprisingly, her blood pressure was significantly higher than normal.

Next, she lay back as her doctor measured her uterus and felt around. Becka stared at the ceiling, just wanting the whole thing to be over. Until next month when I have to come in again. She held her breath as Dr. Richardson brought out the machine to listen to the baby’s heartbeat.

This was it. The moment when there was no denying how real this whole fucked-up situation was.

But as the seconds ticked by, Dr. Richardson’s dark brows drew together. “Your little one is being difficult today.”

“Is that normal?” Aaron hadn’t moved from his chair, but his question sliced through the air and made Becka wince.

The doctor gave a reassuring smile. “The baby can be in certain positions that make finding the heartbeat challenging, but we’ll do an ultrasound just in case.”

In case the baby’s heart isn’t beating.

Becka’s breath hitched in her lungs, and she couldn’t seem to find the strength to exhale. She blinked blindly at the ceiling as her doctor wiped the slimy shit off her stomach and helped her sit up. Dr. Richardson squeezed her hand. “Don’t panic, Becka. I’m sure everything’s fine.”

The world snapped back into focus, and she wheezed out a breath. She latched onto the doctor’s hand. “I need my baby to be okay.”

“I know. Just give me a few minutes to see when we can slot you in for the ultrasound.” She slipped out of the room, leaving Becka staring after her.

She turned to Aaron. “I need our baby to be okay,” she repeated.

Instantly, he was on his feet and before her. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. “Like she said—listening to the heartbeat with that machine is an imperfect system. The ultrasound will tell us more.”

But there was no guarantee that it would deliver good news.

She buried her face in Aaron’s chest and listened to the beat of his heart. Too fast, a perfect match to her own. “I didn’t think I wanted this baby. I mean, obviously I did because I kept it, but I didn’t really want it. I wasn’t excited. I was just dealing with it and pretending I wasn’t pregnant because I don’t know what I’m doing.” She fisted her hands in Aaron’s shirt. “I want this baby. I want our baby.”

“I know.” He smoothed a hand over her hair and down her back. Over and over again. “I know. I want our baby, too.”

She didn’t know how long they sat like that, her trying and failing not to cry, him whispering words that ceased to have meaning as he rubbed her back.

A knock on the door signaled Dr. Richardson’s return. Her expression was perfectly placid as she took them in. “There was a last-minute cancellation, so we can get you in right now, if that will work?”

“It does,” Aaron answered for her, which was fine by her.

The doctor nodded. “This way.” She led them deeper into the clinic, to a darkened room where she introduced them to the ultrasound tech. Dr. Richardson hesitated. “The nurse will bring you back to a room once you’re finished and then we’ll go over the results.”

Because the technician wasn’t allowed to tell them anything.

Becka managed a nod.

And then it began again. The cold lube stuff on her lower stomach. The wand pressing into her sensitive skin.

She couldn’t bring herself to look at the static-filled screen for more than a few seconds, for fear of what she might see. Instead, she turned to Aaron. He held her hand, his gaze glued to the screen as if he had suddenly acquired the knowledge to decipher it. Hell, knowing the man, it was possible he’d found and read a book about ultrasounds along with every other aspect of pregnancy he’d researched.

The ultrasound tech clicked things on her computer and typed in other things, but she didn’t say a word until she removed the wand and handed Becka a handful of tissues. The woman gave a soft smile. “You don’t have to be worried.” Her smile became less tentative. “Do you want to know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”

How could you ask me that if I don’t know if my baby is okay?

Aaron squeezed her hand, grounding her. “It’s up to you, Becka.”

She swallowed hard. “I’d like to know.”

The nurse’s smile widened. “You have a beautiful baby girl.”

Even as joy suffused her, an insidious little voice in the back of her mind murmured, A little girl. You really are repeating history, aren’t you?

Aaron kept a grip on Becka’s hand as much for his benefit as for hers. A little girl. Is she okay? The nurse led them back to the room, and they spent ten agonizing minutes waiting for the doctor to return. Becka didn’t say anything, so he kept his silence. There would be plenty of time to talk once they had the verdict.

Rationally, he knew from his reading that people lost babies all the time. Miscarriages were significantly more common than Aaron could have imagined, and there were a number of factors that went into them—but the overwhelming consensus was that it was rarely the mother’s fault.

Becka would blame herself, though. He saw that truth written across her face.

Dr. Richardson arrived and closed the door behind her. She gave them both a bright smile. “Good news. The baby is perfectly fine and measuring right on track for where she should be. The mischievous little one just decided to be difficult earlier.” She walked over and patted Becka’s knee. “You’re doing wonderfully. Just keep it up and let me know if anything changes or if you have any concerns.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Becka’s smile didn’t quite banish the worried expression in her eyes.

After assuring her that they had no further questions, the appointment ended and Aaron trailed behind Becka as she strode out of the clinic. The baby might be fine, but the adrenaline still coursed through his system. So many things had raced through his mind as they waited through the ultrasound, but chief among them was the knowledge that if they lost the baby, he’d lose Becka in the process. There was nothing tying her to him. She’d only contacted him again because she was pregnant. If that hadn’t happened, she would have moved on with her life and left him to do the same.

Without the baby in the picture, no doubt she’d do exactly that again.

There would be no more shared meals. No more nights spent wrapped up in each other. No more of her lively presence brightening up his home and his life.

He’d lose her—for good this time.

Aaron drove them back to his building and cupped her elbow as they took the elevator up. But as soon as he shut the front door behind him, he couldn’t keep the words inside any longer. “Marry me.”

Becka spun around and would have tripped if he hadn’t caught her. She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I thought you just said ‘marry me,’ but there’s no way you actually said that, because that would be crazy .”

“As crazy as moving you in here and realizing we’d actually be good together.” The brakes that had kept him quiet up to this point were long gone, and the sheer horror on her face only spurred him to keep talking. He’d only get one chance to convince her of this. Aaron clasped her shoulders. “Becka, I love you. I think if you weren’t so scared, you could admit that you love me, too. And today more than proved that we both already love this baby. We’re not your parents. We’re not going to make those same mistakes, no matter what you think. Trust me.”

“Trust you.” A laugh burst from her that edged toward hysterical. “How can I trust you when you just turned around and did everything you promised you wouldn’t? You promised to give me time.”

Frustration ignited into fury. “I have given you time. I’ve respected your childish desire to hide under the covers and ignore what’s happening instead of planning accordingly and facing it. I’ve sat back and watched you play pretend for six fucking weeks, Becka. That ends now.”

“I see.” She nodded and stepped back, out of his reach. “I wasn’t the only one playing pretend, though, was I? You had this idea of what the future was supposed to look like, and you’ve systematically ignored any piece of evidence that doesn’t line up with that plan. I’m not some perfect little wifey who’s going to fall into line just because you will it to happen. I’m only me, Aaron. I’ve only ever been me. And you’ve been asking too much from the very beginning.”

The floor seemed to tilt beneath his feet, but he was too angry to care. This was the truth he hadn’t wanted to face, the thread running through her that he didn’t have the words to combat. Even if he had, Becka possessed a singular ability to tune out anything that didn’t fit with her worldview. Just like she was doing right goddamn now.

He crossed his arms over his chest and strove to keep his tone even and not yell at her. If he could just get her to listen , they could talk their way through this. “I’d rather shoot for the stars than be content to live in the dirt just because I’m too afraid of repeating my parents’ mistake. The last month has more than proven that you’re not like them—like her. Why can everyone see that but you?”

Her blue eyes flashed. “Really? I’m the one who’s letting my parents’ lives get in the way of reality? Because your happy home that you grew up in has given you a wicked case of rose-tinted glasses. Wake up. Life isn’t like that for most people. More than half the people who get married turn around and get divorced again within seven years. That is a fact you can hang your hat on—not this fantasy future you’ve created in your head. You and I?” She motioned between them. “We would never work. Not outside this fucked-up situation, and sure as hell not in a marriage.” Becka shook her head. “I should leave.”

He’d fought so fucking hard to make her see, and he might as well have been yelling into a hurricane. Both actions accomplished a grand total of jack shit. She had her reality, and she fought tooth and nail to stay there. Aaron knew a thing or two about fear, but he’d always faced that emotion down until he conquered it. It was the only way forward. Her flat-out refusal to even try...

It’s over.

“No need for you to leave. I will.” He turned for the door but paused. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Becka. All you have to do is take a leap with me and trust in us.” Aaron found himself holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

But she only shook her head again, her eyes shining. “We won’t fly, Aaron. The free fall might feel like it for a little while, but the landing will ruin us both.”

He searched for something more to say, but in the end it wouldn’t change anything. “I’ll be at the next appointment.”

She hesitated like she wanted to tell him to fuck off but finally gave a short nod. “Wouldn’t expect anything different.”

This was it. It was really over.

Aaron turned without another word and walked out of the penthouse.

Becka barely had the energy to walk down the hallway to collapse on her bed. She buried her face in her cold pillow, hating that it wasn’t the one on Aaron’s bed that smelled like him, and hating herself even more for wanting that in the first place. She screamed into the offending pillow, but it didn’t make her feel the least bit better.

Why would it?

Aaron had left.

Not only left—left because she’d freaked out on him and kept yelling until he couldn’t stand to be in the same space as her. Just like her parents.

No, that wasn’t fair...

But Becka didn’t feel much like being fair right then. He threw that marriage proposal—if someone could even call it that—at her like it was the most logical step to take. And when she—understandably—freaked out, he cut and ran.

He left her.

She rolled onto her back and stared at the white ceiling. “Okay. Okay, he left. Which is a shitty way to end an argument. But this is Aaron we’re talking about. Maybe he just needs to walk it off a little bit and then he’ll be back here with some kind of plan and we’ll figure this out in a way that doesn’t involve a shotgun wedding.” She took a shuddering breath. “And then I will put my issues on hold and talk to him instead of freaking out.” Not an easy task by any means, but she could make an effort. She would make an effort.

She might not be ready to marry him, but she did care about him and she didn’t want to be without him. Becka scrubbed a hand over her face. Trust their first real fight to be one for the record books. She rolled over to get more comfortable and stared at the clock. An hour—two, tops—and he’d be back there. She just had to smother her instinct to flee the penthouse until then. She curled her legs and hugged the second pillow on the bed.

Just a little longer...