Savage Love || An Eminem Fanfiction

Chapter 129

Blair's POV

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my flowy top over my jeans. I didn't look great, but at least I looked better than I felt. The nausea had settled into a routine, a constant reminder that I wasn't in control anymore—not of my body, not of anything. I wasn't about to walk into that fertility clinic looking like I'd just rolled out of bed, even though that was exactly what I felt like doing. At seven weeks pregnant, the tiredness clung to me like a second skin, but today was different—today was our first ultrasound. I could feel the weight of the day pressing down on me, excitement and anxiety wrapped so tightly together that I wasn't sure which one was winning.

I smoothed my hair down, trying to regain some sense of control. The soft light from the bathroom reflected off the mirror, making my pale face look more washed out than usual, even under the make up I had applied. Today mattered. I wanted to feel ready for it, to be more present than I felt.

A knock on the door broke my thoughts. "Satan, you ready? I'm not getting any younger out here."

I smiled, the tension breaking slightly as Marshall's voice carried through the hallway. "Coming!"

The door creaked open, and there he stood—leaning against the frame with that familiar smirk lighting up his face. He had a way of standing there, cocky but relaxed, like the weight of the world never quite touched him. "You scub up alright," he teased, stepping forward to wrap his arms around me from behind. "Though let's be real, I'm still winning in the looks department."

I rolled my eyes, leaning back into him. "Well, considering I'm carrying your DNA, any flaws are officially on you."

He grinned, resting his chin on my shoulder, his breath warm against my neck. "You say that like it's a bad thing. Let's be honest, Baby—you're working with top-tier material here."

I turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "Top-tier? I've been nauseous for weeks. If this is what your 'premium package' comes with, I'm not exactly sold."

Marshall chuckled, kissing my cheek softly, his stubble grazing my skin. "Hey, you're handling the best of the best. My contribution is just taking charge, like it should."

I sighed dramatically, shaking my head. "Honestly, I was hoping pregnancy would make me feel like a goddess, but so far, I'm just at the mercy of your DNA."

He laughed, pulling me closer until my back pressed against his chest, his hands sliding protectively around my waist. "You'll see. This is an upgrade, even if it doesn't feel like it yet."

The fertility clinic was bright, the sterile scent of antiseptic and the soft hum of the HVAC system filling the air. Sunlight streamed in through large windows, painting the room with a warmth that didn't quite match the anxiety bubbling in my chest. I shifted in my seat, the leather squeaking beneath me as Marshall sat beside me, his hand resting on my knee. He was calm, too calm, as if his mere presence was enough to keep me from spiraling. His thumb brushed against my leg, an unconscious gesture, but it grounded me.

"Blair Mathers?" the nurse called out, her voice quiet yet firm, pulling me from my thoughts.

My heart leapt into my throat at the sound of my name. Marshall stood first, reaching for my hand, his fingers lacing through mine with ease. "Showtime," he whispered, his voice low and steady, like he could take all the weight off me just by saying it.

I shot him a glance as we walked down the hallway. "It's an ultrasound, not the Oscars."

"For our baby? It's basically the Oscars. We're the stars today."

Despite myself, I laughed. The tension inside me bubbled up in a nervous giggle, but his confidence wrapped around me like a shield. The hallway felt shorter than I remembered, like the universe was fast-forwarding toward this monumental moment, and I wasn't sure if I was ready.

The exam room was dimly lit, the hum of the ultrasound machine filling the silence. Marshall stood close to me as I settled onto the exam table, his hand gripping mine like it was the only thing keeping us both grounded. My stomach twisted, nerves mixing with the cold anticipation, and I squeezed his hand tighter.

The ultrasound tech smiled warmly as she prepped the machine. "Seven weeks today, right? That's exciting."

I nodded, my pulse quickening, feeling my heart pound in my chest. The weight of the moment hit me harder than I expected. The cold gel touched my skin, and I flinched at the sensation, my body reacting instinctively. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in as the quiet hum of the machine heightened the anticipation.

Marshall squeezed my hand again, leaning down slightly. "We're good," he whispered, his thumb brushing over my knuckles in a slow, comforting rhythm.

The wand moved across my abdomen, but the silence was deafening. Every second felt like an eternity, my breath catching in my throat as I waited—waited for the sound that could either break us or heal us. And then it happened—the rapid, rhythmic sound of a heartbeat. Fast, steady, undeniable. It filled the room, echoing off the walls, but more than that, it filled me. The air I hadn't realized I'd been holding in rushed out in a sharp breath as I gripped Marshall's hand like it was a lifeline.

"There it is," the tech said softly, as if she understood the sacredness of the moment. She turned the screen toward us, and there it was—a flicker, small and fragile, but undeniably real.

Marshall's grip tightened, and I turned to him, my eyes brimming with tears. His face was softer than I'd ever seen it, his usual calm replaced by something raw and unguarded. His lips parted slightly, his breath shallow as he stared at the screen, his hand tightening around mine like he was holding on to this moment with everything he had.

Tears spilled down my cheeks, my chest tightening with the sheer weight of it all. "That's your baby," the tech murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, pointing to the tiny flicker of life on the screen.

I was crying, ugly crying, full-on hiccuping sobs, but I didn't care. The sound of our baby's heartbeat was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard. I turned to Marshall, my vision blurred, laughing through the tears.

"I'm ugly crying, aren't I?"

Marshall's lips curled into a smile, his eyes glassy with unshed tears as he wiped my cheek gently. "Nah, not to me. You're way too beautiful for that."

I let out a breathless laugh, wiping my eyes as I stared at the flicker on the screen. It was so small, so delicate, but it was real. This was real. The sound of that heartbeat wasn't just a sign of life—it was a promise. A promise that we had made it this far.

Marshall leaned in, his breath warm against my forehead as he pressed a kiss there. "I told you we fucking' did it Baby."

I nodded, my heart swelling, squeezing his hand as the words sunk in. For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could finally breathe. The steady rhythm of our baby's heartbeat still filled the room, strong and clear, and all the fear I'd been carrying began to melt away.

———

As we walked out of the clinic, I held the ultrasound picture tight in my hand, the small image still warm from the printer. The sunlight hit my face, and I glanced down at the black-and-white photo, the tiny flicker of life captured there. For the first time in so long, I wasn't scared—I was excited. That little heartbeat on the screen had changed everything. That tiny flicker would grow, that heartbeat would get louder, and the future didn't seem so uncertain anymore.

Marshall's arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me close as he glanced down at the picture in my hand. "See?" he said softly, his voice full of pride. "That's our little fighter."

I smiled, clutching the picture to my chest as we walked toward the car. Whatever happened next, we were ready. We'd made it this far, and for the first time in a long time, I truly believed that everything would be okay.