Page 32 of Afterglow

“We’ll do a thorough exam today and I’ll add a few panels to your bloodwork to make sure we aren’t missing anything. I know having that peace of mind will help you to feel more grounded in this pregnancy.”

I nod and a single tear slips free, but my lips tip up and I smile genuinely for the first time since walking into the hospital.

“This is really happening,” I say, and another tear slides down my cheek as my smile widens. “I’m really pregnant, and I get to be a mom.” Saying the words helps it feel true, and I finally sink into the belief with no way of explaining the elation I feel.

“It’s really happening,” she says, squeezing my hand. “And you already are a mom. Today you get to meet your baby.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Bryce

“It looks like a gummy bear,” I say, glancing up from the grainy black-and-white photo in my hand to where Leanne sits cross-legged on the couch with a plate of grilled cheese on her lap.

This is the second time I’ve delivered Whiskey Ditch, and I can sense it becoming a tradition. Whiskey Ditch date nights—except it’s not a date. This is just two people sharing a meal…

Oh, and having a baby together.

My heart constricts in my chest as I stare at the sonogram in my hands. There’s nostalgia in this moment, a heartbreaking remembrance of another so similar, but at the same time, it feels brand-new. This is our moment, mine and Leanne’s.

“Let me see it again.” She narrows her eyes. “I don’t remember it resembling anything of the sort.”

In two long strides, I’m holding the photo in front of her face. Her hands are wrapped around the greasy sandwich, and considering this is my copy of the sonogram, I don’t want fingerprints smudged all over it.

I’m probably too excited at the prospect of securing it to my fridge with a magnet.

She tilts her head side to side, deliberating, but a tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth gives her away. “Yeah, I guess it does kind of look like a gummy bear.”

I bring the photo back in front of my own face, studying it from every angle. There isn’t much to see, with Leanne being only ten weeks along, but it’s there. A baby—a baby gummy bear maybe, but a baby nonetheless.

I hover my thumb over the grey blur of life on the page as if I could touch it. I still can’t believe this is happening.

When I look up, Leanne’s focus is pinned on me—her sandwich hovering by her mouth. It’s already half gone, which is good. She looks so much healthier than she did two weeks ago. There’s color in her cheeks again and the dark circles around her eyes aren’t so prominent.

Grabbing my own plate, I settle on the far end of the sectional.

There’s still distance between us and I wonder if we’ll ever get back to being as close as we were that night in the tent. And I don’t just mean with sex. She let her guard down in a way I don’t think she does with many people, and I’m going to have to earn the opportunity to see her like that again.

“So, tell me everything about your appointment,” I say, leashing my desire for her to relay every single word.

I wanted to be there more than anything—yet again a trust we’ll need to work up to—but there was the faintest hint of cowardly relief when she told me no. It’s been a long time since I was in an OBGYN’s office, and there’s no telling how being there again might affect me.

But if she wants me to go with her in the future, I’ll figure it out—for her, for them.

“It was pretty straightforward… I think. I’ve never done this before,” she says, and I cringe internally because I have done this before—a fact she doesn’t know. “But everything looks good. I, uh, explained my history,” she says, averting her gaze after a quick glance at me, “or lack thereof. But Dr. Davenport assured me everything looks normal—‘perfect’ was her exact word.”

I chortle, which earns me narrowed eyes from Leanne and a charged “What?”

“Sorry.” I wave a hand in apology. “I just have a hard time thinking of Becca as Dr. Davenport.”

Her eyes narrow further and she crosses her arms over her chest “What’s the story with you two? I tried asking at the end of my appointment, and she told me to ask you.” There’s an accusation in her tone that definitely doesn’t belong there.

“Relax, blondie,” I say, and she lobs her napkin at my head. “Sorry, old habits.” I smile at her, knowing the nickname doesn’t bother her as much as she lets on. “For all intents and purposes, Becca is like my sister.”

“Like a sister, how?” she questions. “Are you sure this isn’t a conflict for her? Won’t it be weird if—”

I shake my head. “It’s not. She’s thrilled to have you as a patient. If you really want to get technical… she’s my sister-in-law.” I wince, knowing the moment the words are out of my mouth that this isn’t going to go over well.

Leanne raises her eyebrows so high up her forehead I think they may disappear behind her hair. “Wait, you’re not… Tell me you’re not!” she exclaims, grabbing at my left hand.