Heartbeats

Chapter 10

Him...

If loving her last time was sunshine, it's a watercolor sunrise this time around. Pastels that bleed across the entire sky and crisp air that takes your breath away, shouting of new beginnings and promises.

Most of the time.

"You bought what?" The lilt in her voice tells me she is holding back a fit of rage.

It's Friday afternoon and we've both had a long week, her finishing the final cuts of the series she's been working on for the past six months and me closing on a house as a surprise next step for our family. Life in the cocoon of this apartment has been indescribably perfect, but we are already busting at the seams.

Taking a deep breath, I step toward her. "A house." I move to pull her into my embrace, but she evades me, slapping me on the arm playfully as she goes.

"Don't even play around about something like that..." Her voice trails off as she returns her attention to her reflection in the bathroom mirror, touching up her makeup from a long day at work. We have a dinner reservation in a couple hours and I was going to break the news while we were out, but I couldn't wait another second.

"I'm being serious, babe." It's only then that she turns to face me fully, face wrought with a concern I wasn't expecting.

"No..." She calls my bluff with her eyes.

I can't, for the life of me, remember why I expected her to be excited. She's always had a fiery anger about her, the kind that quakes through her whole body, and once she's worked up, there's no talking her down. I try anyway.

"Well now that you're wrapping up on set and we don't have any more ties to Atlanta, I figured we could sell this place and try something new. We're out of room here and I found the perfect place on the coast just north of L.A. I bought it because it reminds me so much of you. It can be our fresh start."

She mulls over my words like they're some kind of delicious poison. She wants to take me at my word, I can tell, but she doesn't trust herself to do it. As her hand rises to tousle her hair, I know I'm done for.

"You didn't think to involve me?!" Her words are like ice. "You don't have to, of course, but I thought that's where this was headed. I thought that's what you wanted."

Shouldering past me into the kitchen, she grabs a glass and pours herself a shot of my fancy bourbon, leaving me no choice but to stare at her in anticipation of her next move. She normally hates the stuff, but the way she downs the shot, I know she's not in it for the taste.

"What is this to you?" She demands, gesturing to me as she slams her empty glass back on the counter. "All those years ago, back when we broke each other's hearts, it was because of something stupid like this. You wanted forever and I didn't think I was ready."

She's screaming now, scalding tears rippling down her cheeks as her words cut me like razorblades. "Now the tables have turned. I don't want to be just another accessory in your life. I don't want to come along for the ride. I'm done pretending this thing between us wasn't inevitable."

Her voice trails off with her tears and I don't expect her to step into my arms, but I'm ready for her when she does.

"You're it for me." She echoes back the words I said to her on a park bench in New Orleans all those years ago, staring into my eyes and daring me to remember. And suddenly, we're no longer fighting about a house.

She pushes me backward toward the bedroom that has become ours and her hands are all over me, clutching at me with a passionate, possessive anger that is completely new. Her lips find mine as she straddles me on the bed, intent on showing me exactly what she means.

"Together," she heaves as she has her way with me. "From now on, we do everything together."

Her...

It's an easy intimacy—physical, emotional, spiritual—we're on the same wavelength. And my favorite part is how messy it is, even at the start. We argue and we fight and at the end of the day, we don't hold back. There are no mind games. I don't psychoanalyze every conversation. I feel safe.

That's the only reason my initial reaction isn't terror when the pregnancy test comes back positive.

I've never wanted to be a mom, never felt like I had any business being a mom, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is absolutely right.

When I finally work myself up to tell him, he stands there dumbfounded for several moments before he dissolves into a sobbing mess. And I follow suit because seeing him like this, so unbearably excited he can hardly contain himself, is simply too much.

Once we've collapsed on the floor in each other's arms, I pull him in close and take in the elation in his eyes.

"This is real," I smile through my tears, cupping his face and placing feather light kisses along his cheekbones. "We're going to be the family you always wanted."

~*~

My belly grows quicker than I expect, and he's obsessed with it, finding every excuse to rub it and kiss it and talk to it.

"I'm starting to get a little jealous, you know." I laugh as he pats my tummy while we wait for the tech to come in for our ten week ultrasound.

"Oh, come on..." He continues talking to my belly as his hand slips lower. "I think I give Mommy plenty of attention."

My breath hitches in my throat, and as we lock eyes I can't help but think I'm the luckiest woman on the face of the earth.

When the ultrasound tech comes in, it's obvious she recognizes us, but she does a very good job of pretending like nothing is out of the ordinary—like him and I here together like this isn't a huge deal. It's been so easy to keep everything quiet for the past few months, to revel in the simplicity of life together without all the complications that come with fame, but moments like this one are a stark reminder that it's only a matter of time before we have to share our story with the world.

He holds my hand as the tech takes a seat, prepping the supplies and eventually dragging the wand over the small bump in my abdomen. She's quiet as she works, and I immediately equate it with discomfort—the realization that she's now privy to a scandalous secret only a handful of people know about.

Little do I know, she has a scandalous secret all her own. As she takes snapshots of my womb, I can't help but break the awkward silence.

"How is the heartbeat?" I ask, completely unprepared for her response.

"There are two."