Page 105 of Louder Than Words

I do exactly that, so fast I’m sure I ripped the stupid paper barrier.

She wastes no time. Just as Jax’s head aligns with mine, it appears right away. Clear as day.

Our baby.

Jumping around like it’s having the damn time of its life. Like scaring their parents is the best thing in the world.

They clearly get that from Jax.

I glance over at him, tears already spilling from my eyes, and it’s like I fall in love with him all over again. The way he looks at the monitor with his whole entire heart, as if he’s pouring it straight into the little jellybean on the screen.

His head slowly turns, and his gaze lands on mine. “That,” he says, pointing to the screen, “that’s our baby?”

My hand finds his cheek, cradling it gently. “That’s our baby, Jax.”

The soft whir of the machine cuts through the air, followed by the gentle ripping of paper as Dr. Lavoie hands me a few still images.

“Now, the hematoma is still there,” she begins, and my chest tightens. “It’s not big enough to be a concern, and the baby’s heart rate is perfect today. So, I’m not worried. Just no lifting anything heavy, and no sex—at least until we check again in two weeks.”

Jax and I both nod, still at a loss of words as we stare at the ultrasound. I can’t stop the smile from spreading as my mind just keeps repeating: our baby is okay.

“Congrats, you two,” she says softly, already rising from her chair. “Allie, I’ll see you after the holidays for your first prenatal.”

My smile grows as I nod, until a thought rushes to the front of my mind.

“Wait!” I nearly shout, reaching out to stop her. “So, will I be considered high risk? You know, because of the accident?”

She gives me a tight-lipped smile and shrugs. “Yes and no. You’ll be monitored carefully, and you’ll have a few extra appointments and ultrasounds throughout your pregnancy. ButI don’t see you needing any special restrictions. We’ll take things slow, okay?”

A wave of relief washes over me, and I press my hand to my chest to slow my racing heart.

“Thank you, Dr. Lavoie,” Jax says softly, caressing my hand.

She smiles back. “You’re welcome, Jax. And don’t let her lift anything,” she adds, pointing at him to show she means business.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smirk.

We watch her leave the room, and not even a second after the door clicks shut, Jax sweeps me into his arms so tight I can hardly breathe.

And I cry—hard.

But this time, it’s not the earth-shattering sadness kind.

It’s the excited, overjoyed kind.

For the first time in almost six months, we have our one, shining, flickering hope.

And that lives in our baby.

42

Jax

Christmas was always Mum’s favorite holiday.

Every year, she made it her mission to do everything under the sun, whether she was feeling well or not. The market, Winter Wonderland, and, of course, making sure we had Welsh cakes for breakfast every day during the week leading up to Christmas.

And if there’s one thing I miss the most? It’s definitely the Welsh cakes.