Chapter 61 Desiree Dixon

Myers Briggs

These three days away from each other will do us some good, I think. Being pregnant comes with a whole host of pressures, and doing it away from my three best girlfriends as I adjust to a whole new life—one my father wholeheartedly still disapproves of—has been harder than I thought it would be.

Which is why I burst into tears as I stand on their front porch when they open the door.

“Oh my God, what’s wrong?” Chloe asks as she throws open the door.

“I miss you three so much!” I wail as all three women somehow toss their arms around me at the same time.

They took time off work—well, Lauren did. Chloe and Addy are on summer break, and it feels so, so good to be back here with my best friends.

“How’s everything with Asher?” Addy asks once I’ve stopped sobbing and Lauren has hauled my suitcase into Addy’s room, where I’ll be sleeping for the next couple of nights.

“It’s good,” I say. “I mean, my dad hates us together, and I have no idea what the future is going to be for us, but other than that, things are great.” I force a fake smile.

The three women stare at me with their jaws slightly slackened.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Lauren says, holding up a hand. “Back the truck up and start at the beginning.”

We walk into the family room, and I sit on the couch, where I recount the latest details about my father’s disapproval of the father of my baby.

I set my hand on my stomach as I feel a deep shot to the ribs. “Ugh,” I gasp. They look at me in alarm. “I’m fine.” I rub my ribs where the baby just kicked.

I feel another big kick, but this one feels different.

I gasp again, and while the kick is normally a quick jab, this starts with a jab but feels like a tight, dull ache that seems to put pressure on my back.

That’s new.

I haven’t felt that one before.

I gasp again, and my friends stare at me.

“Are you having a contraction?” Lauren asks.

My brows dip together. “No! No way. I’m only thirty-five weeks. It’s too early for contractions.”

“Maybe those Myers Briggs ones?” Chloe suggests.

“Do you mean Braxton Hicks?” Lauren asks her, and I want to laugh at the two of them, but I can’t. I’m nervous now that Lauren mentioned contractions. Is that what that was?

The pain seems to pass after thirty seconds or so, and I draw in a deep breath. “Anyway, so my dad still hasn’t given us his blessing. He actively tried to get Asher traded, but the head coach is his brother, and he fought for Asher to stay. I guess my dad and Asher got close during the season, and my dad felt like it was a huge betrayal that we were sleeping together in secret the whole time.”

Addy wrinkles her nose. “I can’t imagine my dad knowing I slept with anybody.”

I lift a shoulder. “Get knocked up and everyone will know.”

“Ew!” Chloe makes a face. “Imagine being pregnant in front of a classroom of middle schoolers. They’re old enough to know and immature enough to gossip about it.”

“I’d sooner quit,” Addy says. “Aside from that, how are things with you and Asher?”

I sigh in total contentment. Well, as content as one can be at thirty-five weeks pregnant. “Blissful. He’s attentive and sweet, and he’s really stepped up. I feel like we’re ready for this.”

We shift topics to what everyone else has been up to. I feel another sharp jab that turns into a pressure ache in my back again. I gasp as the laughter falls from my lips, and my friends stare at me.

“Babe, that was only nine minutes since the last time you made that face,” Lauren says. “I have a new mom client who told me all about labor and contractions, and I think we need to take you to the hospital.”

“Stop it,” I scold, even though the pressure is still there. “It’s not labor. You’re being ridiculous.” I suck in a deep breath. I just got here. I’m just settling in from traveling. It’s the stress of traveling, of being away from Asher. Right? That has to be it.

Except nine minutes later, it hits again.

“Let’s go,” Lauren says. “We’re taking you in just to get checked out.”

I nod a little nervously. “Okay.”

I text Asher on the way just to keep him in the loop.

Me: I made it to San Diego safe and sound. I love you.

His reply is immediate.

Asher: I love you, too. How are you feeling?

Me: Totally fine, but my friends are worried about the kicks I keep getting from the baby, so they’re taking me to get checked out.

I watch as Asher types out a reply.

Asher: …

Before it comes through, however, my phone starts to ring.

“Hi,” I answer a little weakly.

“What do you mean they’re making you get checked out?” he roars.

“We’re on our way to the doctor.”

“The doctor? Just a regular doctor?” he asks.

I clear my throat. “The hospital.”

“Are you really okay?” he demands.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “It might be contractions, so we’re getting me checked just to rule it out.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Asher, no, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. It’s just a sharp pain every nine min—”

“I’m on my way,” he hisses again, and then he cuts the call.

And somehow…I feel a big measure of relief that he’s coming.

I love my friends, and it’s great being here with them. But there’s nothing like the arms of Asher to make me feel safe, warm, and secure.

We arrive at the hospital before I get a chance to call my mom to let her know what’s going on. I’m sure it’s nothing—probably just Braxton Hicks like Chloe suggested, so there’s no need to worry her.

Except I’m not admitted into the emergency room, and instead I’m sent straight to labor and delivery.

A nurse attaches some belts around me to monitor the baby, and then she does a quick exam. “You’re four centimeters dilated and in active labor. How far along are you?”

“Thirty-five weeks.”

She nods. “Preterm,” she murmurs. “Ideally, we’d want the baby in there a little longer, but we’ll run some tests to make sure the baby isn’t in any distress. The doctor will be in shortly to discuss the best course of action. Is the father involved?”

I nod. “He’s on his way from Vegas. I’m in town visiting friends.”

“Those are the women who brought you in?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“They’re good friends.” She studies the screens that are monitoring the baby.

“The best. And Asher—the father—he told me not to travel, but I thought I’d be safe.” I feel tears welling behind my eyes. It’ll be at least a couple hours before Asher can get here. What if I have the baby before then? What if he misses it all because I had to visit my friends one more time? Why did I think this was a good idea?

I’m scared, and I’m alone. “Can they come back here?” I ask.

“Only one nonrelative at a time,” she says apologetically.

“Addy,” I say immediately.

“Give me two seconds, and I’ll go get her.” She returns a moment later with Addy and also with the doctor. Addy rushes over and holds my hand as we watch the doctor glance at the screen and look over at me.

The doctor does a quick pelvic check, and then she says, “We have some good news, Ms. Dixon. There are no signs of infection, and the baby’s heart rate is stable. We don’t have any concerns with your health right now, so I think that while it’s a little earlier than we’d ideally like, we’re safe to proceed with the delivery. We’ll let things progress naturally and see how it goes.”

Addy glances at her watch, and she excuses herself. Less than a minute later, my mom and dad appear in the doorway.

I burst into tears.

“What are you doing here?” I ask as they rush over to me. My dad stands beside me a bit awkwardly, and my mom sets her hand on my stomach as I brush away the tears.

“We’ll get to that in a minute. How are you?” she asks.

“I’m okay. Scared, but okay. Asher’s on his way…” I glance over at my dad, and he nods.

“I know.” His voice is flat and serious, and I can’t get a read on what he’s thinking.

“He called us,” my mom says.

“He did?” I sniffle.

She nods. “We were here in San Diego. Dad had a rare few days off, so we flew out to visit with our friends here. Lucky break.”

“Asher called you?”

She nods, her eyes getting a little misty. “He called your father.”

My chest squeezes at that.

The contractions are still about seven to eight minutes apart, but I haven’t dilated past four centimeters—which is good since it gives Asher time to arrive.

It’s over an hour after my parents arrive when Asher appears in the doorway.

They excuse themselves as I burst into tears yet again. What a freaking emotional roller coaster.

He stands in the doorway after they leave, and he stares across the small space at me. He rushes across the room and drops his lips to mine, his hand moving on top of my stomach.

I feel safe again. I feel like I can do this.

Without him, I was scared. Even when my parents got here, I was still scared.

But Asher’s here now, and he always knows how to make everything okay.

It’s what I’ve come to rely on.

And that’s what tells me the one thing that’s become very clear to me over the last few months. No matter what happens over the next couple days…this is the man I’m meant to spend the rest of my life with.