On Thursday, I walked into my OB's office ten minutes early, but Kade was already there, filling out his family history form. I'd called earlier in the week and told the office the father would be there on Thursday and to please have the paperwork ready.
I hesitated as I pondered where to sit, but Kade looked up, smiled gently at me and stood to greet me. With not much choice, I walked over to him and offered him a cool hello, but nothing else. No eye contact, no smile, no touch of the hands.
"How are you?" he asked quietly.
"Fine," I said shortly. "Better finish your paperwork."
"Two more questions and I'm done," he murmured then bent his head to the task. When he finished, he took the clipboard back to the girl behind the reception desk who smiled big at him, batting her eyes practically. I wanted to tell her to save her efforts; she was trying to flirt with a man who was hung up on his dead wife.
My name was called soon after and he offered a hand to help me out of my chair, which I declined. I could feel him at my back as the nurse smiled at us, then started asking me how I'm doing. Once we were in the exam room, she helped me on the table and went through the routine questions.
Kade was quiet through it, but I knew he was listening intently.
The nurse left right after informing us that the doctor would be in soon. I stared at the charts on the wall, wondering once again if the same decorator did all OB's offices. They all make you wonder how on earth something that size is going to come out of something so small.
A knock signaled the doctor's entrance. She smiled big at me and shook my hand. She's my OB-GYN, so I've seen her before, but not for pregnancy since I've been in North Carolina.
We chatted a few minutes, then she noticed Kade, who stood when she entered the room. After I introduced them, she returned her attention to me.
We went over if I was having any Braxton-Hicks contractions (no), my level of fatigue (pretty bad), my sleep (not great) and any swelling in my ankles (nothing too bad, considering I'm on my feet all day).
Then we discussed my birth plan and she started off with, "So I assume you two have discussed the labor and delivery?"
"No. All I know is I don't really want any drugs unless absolutely necessary."
As I checked out and made my next appointment, Kade asked if I wanted to grab an early dinner. Everything in me wanted to spend time with him. No matter how hurt I was by this man, no matter that I knew he didn't love me, no matter that he was still more into his late wife than he was into me, I still craved him with everything in me. It was as if my body yearned for his at some molecular level.
So I told him no.
"Come on, Abby," he said coaxingly, pouring on his considerable charm and flashing that smile he knew I loved. "I'm starving and I bet our boy is, too."
Our boy.
That killed me, knowing our boy is going to grow up in two separate homes, dividing his time between mom and dad, never having a two-parent home. It breaks my heart, if I'm being honest. It would be so easy to give in to Kade, but I couldn't resign myself to the devastation of being in a lopsided relationship in which I loved Kade and he loved his dead wife.
"I'm not hungry. I'll see you next week."
He followed me to my car and opened my door for me once I bleeped the locks. Just as I was about to sink into the driver's seat, his hand on my arm stopped me. "Do you need anything? Can I help in any way?"
"Thanks, but no and no," I said, not looking at his face.
"Abigail," he murmured, leaning toward me, "Can't we try to at least be friends? For our son's sake?"
