Fighting Silence (On the Ropes #1)(77)

“Are you freaking out?”

“No.”

“Yes, you are.”

Till’s lips twisted in a one-sided smile. “No, I’m not.”

“You’re totally freaking out.”

He sat down on the edge of the examination table and squeezed my hand. “Doodle, are you freaking out?”

I sucked in a deep breath before the floodgates failed me. “Yes!” I cried as I dropped my head against his chest.

I felt his shoulders shake before I heard his quiet chuckle.

I sat up back up, sniffling. “Why are you laughing?”

“Because after everything we’ve been through, you decide to freak out about being pregnant? I’m happy and my little Miss Fix It is panicking. I’m sorry, but that’s funny.”

“You’re happy?” My voice squeaked at the end.

“Um . . . why wouldn’t I be happy? My wife is pregnant, and I’m finally at a point in my life where I think we could afford to start a family. It might not be ideal timing, but who cares? It’s not the wrong time either. We’ll make it work. It’s what we do.”

“You know, I’m really not fond of this sensible Till.”

He barked out a laugh. “You’re okay. I’m okay.” He reached down and placed his hand over my stomach. “We’re okay.” Kissing the top of my head, he said, “Nothing else matters.”

The familiar words soothed my nerves.

There was a knock on the door, and I nudged him off the table. The doctor and nurse came in pushing a large cart that nearly filled the crowded room. Till scooted back against the wall to allow them more room, and I felt the loss of his comfort even though he was only a few feet away.

“Okay, Mrs. Page. Since you don’t know how far along you are, we are going to do a quick ultrasound to see if we can get a fetal measurement and estimate a due date.”

I nodded with my eyes glued to Till. I was so nervous, and apparently, it read on my face. He quirked a smile and signed, I’ve heard pregnant woman are horny all the time. This could really work in my favor.

My faced heated, and I prayed that no one in the room understood sign language. Till was entirely too far away, and as the doctor lubed up my stomach, I motioned for him to join me. With a smirk, he squeezed his muscular body around the doctor and took my hand, kissing my palm.

From our vantage point, we couldn’t see the screen, but the doctor squinted and leaned in closer with the every twitch of his wrist.

“When did you say your last period was?” he asked.

“About two weeks ago.”

“And you were on birth control, right?” he asked, still staring at the screen.

“Yeah. The pill.”

“That was definitely just breakthrough bleeding, then. It appears that you’re around eight weeks.” He reached forward and turned a tiny knob.

A beautiful whooshing sound filled the room. A hand flew to my mouth as my eyes began to swim.

Till gripped my hand and nervously asked, “What?”

The heartbeat, I signed unable to say the words then made a flashing sign by opening and closing my fist to the rhythm of the sound.

Till’s face formed a fake smile that proved he knew exactly what he was missing and he f*cking hated it.

Thankfully, the doctor must have seen our exchange. “Here.” He turned the monitor to face us. “You can see it on the screen.” He placed his finger below a tiny blinking light.

Nothing about that black-and-white image was even remotely recognizable as a baby, but its little heart still beat steadily. It made sense. It was Till’s baby; the heart had always been his most defining feature.

Till gasped as he pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed it repeatedly. He silently stared at that screen until the doctor turned it away, and even then, he moved toward my feet in order to keep it in his line of sight.

“Can you tell if it’s a girl?” he asked.

The doctor snickered before turning to face him and shaking his head no.

“No, it’s not a girl, or no, you can’t tell?”

“It’s way too soon to tell,” he replied.

Till’s eyes flashed to mine for the translation.

At the answer, he released a loud breath and raked a hand through his hair. “Okay. I’m gonna need it to be a girl, and if you could sway that for me, I’d really appreciate it.”

The doctor laughed as he handed Till a few grainy pictures that would serve absolutely no purpose other than wasting hours of our time as we tried to make out the nonexistent shape of our baby. Maybe that made them the most precious pictures of all though.

“Go ahead and get dressed. Everything looks great, and we can discuss details and future appointments in my office.” The doctor walked out of the room, leaving us both still shocked and emotional in his wake.

I waved a hand to catch Till’s attention, but when he looked up, his eyes had lost their playfulness.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He swallowed hard before painting on a painful-looking smile. “Way better than okay,” he responded unconvincingly.

“Till . . .”

“Come on. I want to hear what he has to say about my daughter.” He turned away from me, halting any further conversation.

I became instantly worried that Till had joined me on the freak-out train. I threw my clothes on as he stood with his back toward me, but I could see his eyes focused on the pictures in his hand. As I got close, I reached out and traced a hand down his shoulder. He caught my arm and spun, wrapping it around his neck.