Well Suited (Red Lipstick Coalition #4)(19)

Theo stifled a smile, and I rolled my eyes at him even though I wanted to laugh, too.

“Katherine, I want you to start taking prenatal vitamins. Just any over-the-counter brand will be fine,” she said as she stood, reaching for my belly to feel around. She pushed hard enough to make me wince again, dragging her fingers down. Noting my expression, she said, “I’m just checking the height of your uterus. It’s in line with your conception date. Now, let’s take a listen to that heartbeat.”

Theo squeezed my hand, and as much as I hated breaking the personal space rule, his presence was too much of a comfort to lose strictly because of my rules.

The doctor wheeled over a machine with a wand hooked on the side. Not the magical kind that turned on lights or called Death Eaters, but the kind you had to lubricate to get it to do its job.

Although cold, it was preferable to the speculum. The sonogram machine came to life in a wave of white noise, the screen static. There was nothing but empty gray.

My lungs burned. I realized I wasn’t breathing, but I couldn’t seem to force my lungs open. My ribs were locked down tight.

In a burst of sound, a heartbeat filled the room, fast and fluttering. It sounded like it was underwater, the bow, bow, bow of a pulse through amniotic fluid.

My throat closed, and an unfamiliar sting nipped at my nose, the corners of my eyes, the weight in my chest.

That sound was the sound of my child. In my body was a baby, tail and appendage nubs and all. There was a person growing inside of me, which I had known all along. But the unexpected reaction to that sweetest of sounds was the instant connection, the complete and undeniable realness of the fact.

I looked up at Theo, at the softness of his face, the depths of his dark eyes, shining with emotion. But he didn’t speak, and for that, I was glad. Because no words could have possibly explained the complexity of the moment.

He smoothed my hair, pressed a kiss to my crown, kept holding my hand. The doctor turned the screen a bit, angling it toward us as she manipulated the tools she needed to take a picture and some measurements with the help of a little yellow cursor.

She pointed at the screen, a sea of gray static with a little white blob in the middle. “And there’s your baby.”

Theo and I simultaneously leaned in, squinting at the screen.

She chuckled. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but we’ll do another one at your next appointment, and it’ll look a little closer to what you might expect.”

The machine whirred, spitting out a strip of pictures, which she tore off and handed over.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

I did. I actually had a massive list of questions I’d accrued over the last week and a half. But when she handed me the sonogram pictures, my mind was empty of even one.

“No, thank you,” I murmured, my eyes on the little blob on the shiny paper.

“All right. Well, if you think of anything, just call. Why don’t you go ahead and get dressed, and I’ll go get you your information packet and welcome kit.”

We didn’t answer, and she left the room without waiting for us to.

The door clicked shut. I sat. Theo sat next to me. And for a moment, we stared down at the pictures in silence.

“That’s our baby, Kate,” he said reverently, brushing the blob with the pad of his big index finger.

“Its heartbeat is so fast. It’s so small. Defenseless. Dependent on me.” I hushed, not by choice. My throat wouldn’t open again.

He shifted. Brushed my hair over my shoulder. His fingers absently trailed down my shoulder blade and down the back of my arm.

“Katherine, look at me.”

I broke my stare, lifted my eyes, felt something shift in my chest when I looked into his irises.

His face was tight with emotion and certainty that brooked no argument.

“Your body knows exactly what to do. You know exactly what to do. And if you need to be reminded, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, Kate.”

I believed every word, trusted every syllable. And beyond reason, I found myself leaning into him.

His hand slipped into my hair, the line of my jaw resting in his palm. Those black eyes shifted to my lips, which tingled, parted and aching.

Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, went my heartbeat.

My hand rested on his chest, fingertips hooking his lapel.

His lips inched closer, his breath sweet and hot.

I closed my eyes.

But the connection never came.

Not from his lips at least.

The fabric of his suit coat brushed my lips, and my eyes shot open in surprise. His arm wound around me, and his lips pressed hard against my forehead. I was crushed to him, held in his arms where I stayed for a stunned, disoriented moment.

“Come on,” he said, his voice gravelly and raw. “Let’s get you dressed.”

And so I did, cursing my hormones and rules in equal measure.





9





Emotionally Bendy





Katherine

A collective aww echoed in the kitchen.

The three heads of my roommates were pressed together like the fates over the sonogram picture.

Val, Rin, and Amelia had been waiting for me when I walked in the door feeling shaken and unsure—two feelings that brought me enough distress to have me questioning everything, even my breakfast choice, which sat sour in my stomach.