One Day [PRN]

Six

At 18 weeks pregnant, the anticipation of learning more about the baby grew stronger. Prince, ever meticulous about privacy, had arranged for a private ultrasound technician to come to Paisley Park. He didn't want the media, or even the staff at an OB-GYN center, prying into our personal lives. Everything had been carefully orchestrated—discreet, efficient, just like him.

The afternoon was quiet, the sky outside a soft shade of grey as I waited in one of the upstairs rooms. It had been set up for this purpose—a plush chaise, dim lighting, the hum of medical equipment just brought in by the technician. Prince had been unusually quiet all morning, not in a distant way, but more contemplative. I couldn't tell if he was anxious or excited, but there was a certain weight in the air, knowing we were about to take a step further into this unknown.

The technician was kind and professional, explaining the procedure as I lay back on the chaise. My shirt was lifted, and the cool gel smeared across my rounded belly. I glanced over at Prince, who stood near the window, his hands in his pockets, eyes trained on me but distant, as if he were thinking a thousand things at once. His gaze softened as I caught his eye, and he moved closer, standing beside me now, his hand resting on my shoulder.

"You ready?" he asked quietly, his voice soothing but tinged with an unspoken intensity.

I nodded, a mixture of nerves and excitement swirling inside me. "Yeah... I think so."

The technician began the scan, and soon enough, the grainy black-and-white image of our baby flickered on the screen. It was surreal, seeing the tiny, moving figure that had been growing inside me. My heart raced as I watched, feeling a wave of emotions that I hadn't fully anticipated. This wasn't just real—it was a life, our life.

"There's the baby," the technician said softly, pointing to the image. "And everything looks good—heartbeat is strong, growth is right on track."

I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Prince's grip on my shoulder tightened ever so slightly, a silent acknowledgment of the relief we both felt.

"And," the technician continued, glancing between us, "would you like to know the sex of the baby?"

I glanced at Prince, my heart fluttering with anticipation. This moment felt so big, so monumental, and yet it was just the two of us in this quiet room, with no one else but the baby and a future neither of us could predict.

Prince met my eyes and gave me a small nod, his face unreadable but his hand still warm on my skin.

"Yes," I said softly, almost breathless. "We'd like to know."

The technician smiled and turned back to the screen, her finger tracing along the image. "It looks like... you're having a boy."

A boy. The words echoed in my mind, and for a moment, everything seemed to stand still. A son. I felt Prince's hand tremble slightly against my shoulder. He let out a slow, deep breath, his gaze fixed on the screen but his expression unreadable, as if he were taking in the enormity of it all.

"A boy," I whispered, feeling tears well up unexpectedly.

Prince's voice was barely a murmur, but I could hear the emotion in it. "A son."

He looked down at me then, his eyes soft but full of something I hadn't quite seen before—something deeper, more profound. His hand moved to rest gently over my belly, his fingers brushing the skin tenderly, as if connecting with the life inside me in a way words couldn't.

I turned my head to look at him fully, searching his face. "Are you okay?"

He nodded slowly, his lips curving into a small smile. "I think I am."