Page 28 of Ruin The Friendship
I tentatively open my eyes, turning my head to the screen.
She’s pointing at a little bean-sized black and white blob, and just like that, everything changes. That’s my little bean.I made that.
I gasp, and the tech softly laughs. “Want to hear the heartbeat?”
I’m nodding before she finishes her sentence. A fast, steady whooshing fills the room, and my heart flutters. I’m so focused on the tiny bean on the screen that I don’t notice I’m reaching out a hand, needing something to ground me.
Warmth wraps around me as Fletcher senses my needs, his hand squeezing mine. His eyes are wide and moist as he takes in the screen.
“That’s your baby,” he says, his voice cracking.
I can’t speak, so I rest my head on his shoulder as tears stream down my face. I know with absolute certainty that I’m making the right choice.
12
AND I’M A HOCKEY PLAYER!
FLETCHER
Holy shit, Lydia’s having a baby.
So many questions and ideas race through my brain, the most prevalent being excitement. Excitement for Lydia, for this baby. I get to watch my best friend, the person I love most in the world, become a mom. There’s bound to be challenges, of course, but right now, I’m basking in the glow of this moment, in the beauty of it all. Watching her baby’s heartbeat on the screen hits me right in the heart.
I’ll be there for her every step of the way, no questions asked. If she wants me to go to every appointment, to every birthing or parenting class, I will. I never considered kids, never thought of anything past Lydia, but now that the future is staring me in the face, I have to admit it’s bright.
The rest of the ER visit goes quickly once we’re back in our room after the ultrasound. Lydia is silent, but she no longer has an anxious crease between her brows. Now, there’s a soft glow in her eyes, a half-smile at the corner of her lips every time she looks at the ultrasound photo. I’vecaught her tracing her fingers over the shape of the baby a few times, and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
I take my phone out, capturing a photo of her. I want to remember this moment, the excitement I can so clearly see.
She catches me taking the photo, and that small frown line forms back on her brow again as she stares at me.
Dr. Evenson knocks on the door, entering the room with a smile. “Everything looked great on the ultrasound, and your labs look fantastic. We’ll wrap your wrist for now, but get a stable brace in the next day or two, and you will be good to go. Follow up with orthopedics in a week or so if it’s still giving you trouble.”
The nurse comes in, shows her how to wrap her wrist, and gives Lydia her discharge paperwork.
“Thank you,” Lydia says.
I rush to her side to help her from the bed, careful of her wrapped wrist.
“Ready to go home?” I ask, helping her with her jacket.
“Yeah, I’m exhausted.” She stifles a yawn.
“Let’s go.” I lead her out of the room, wrapping my arm around her. I’ve always been protective of Lydia, but for some reason now I feel this urge to cradle her in bubble wrap, to watch her every move to make sure she’s okay. Is it instinctual?
Something shifts as we walk. Lydia tries to pull away from me, but I hold her close until she huffs out an irritated sigh, unraveling herself. What’s happening?
Despite wanting to keep her safe, I have so many questions she has to answer. Who’s the father? Are they secretly together? Does he know? Why didn’t she tell me about him?
My burning questions will have to wait until we get home. I don’t want to upset her in the middle of an ER parking lot.
I help her into the car, then climb in myself, and we exit the parking ramp in silence. The drive home only intensifies Lydia’s mood shift. She won’t look at me, focusing on the road in front of us and fidgeting the entire way. Her body is coiled, like she’s ready to run for her life.
“I’m having a baby,” she finally mumbles.
I’m not really sure what I should say.
I don’t want to upset her, so I reply a quick, “Yep.”
