Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
The nurse goes over some questions with Sasha, all of which I listen to with the utmost attention. I feel as though I should know these things. Or that I should have asked her myself, maybe. I make a mental note to ask her more about them later.
They check a whole load of things I never thought to worry about before. Now I find myself wondering if she’s eating enough. Or carrying heavy things when I’m not around. I know she’s been taking baths. She could slip if I’m not there. Or burn herself when she’s cooking. I’m in the middle of sorting out a round the clock security detail when the technician comes in.
She instructs Sasha to lay back and smears some sort of goopy stuff onto her belly. It’s already round and I have a hard time looking away whenever I see it. I like knowing that my baby is inside of her. That I was the one who did that to her. I can’t imagine ever liking it with anyone else.
But I want to see what Sasha and I made together. I’m staring at the screen impatiently when Sasha reaches for my hand. Her eyes are panicky again, and I haven’t a clue how to comfort her. But I try, just as I promised I would.
I lean down and kiss her on the cheek which she seems to like. I do that a lot now. The technician smiles at us, but I don’t care. Because Sasha is mine. And I’ll do what I like with her.
A noise comes on over the speakers, and both of us move our attention back to the screen as the wand glides over her belly.
I see it. I see my baby. It’s just a wee fuzzy spot on the screen as the technician points out. But it’s there. And then there’s the heartbeat. Strong, like I knew it would be.
The technician starts to speak, and Sasha does too.
“Shh…” I tell them.
Sasha blinks up at me and laughs. “Did you just shush me?”
I clear my throat and my cheeks burn when I realize I did. “I just wanted to listen for a moment longer.”
“You can listen as long as you like,” the technician says.
So I do. I listen and take it all in. Memorizing every detail on the screen. When I finally look away, Sasha is smiling up at me. She doesn’t seem nervous anymore, and I’m glad.
“Okay,” I tell the technician.
She points out a few things on the photo and checks everything over. She says that she can’t yet tell if it’s a boy or a girl, but it makes no difference. Sasha has it in her head that she doesn’t want to know, and I agreed that was fine.
I know it’s going to be a boy anyhow. It has to be. Because I haven’t a bloody clue what to do with a girl.
She wraps up the session and slips out of the room, allowing Sasha a moment to get herself back together. But before she can, I lean down and kiss her. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. It can’t be helped, especially right here and now.
When I pull away, she’s breathless and flustered. And I like that too.
“Can we go home now?” she asks. “And stay there… for like a week.”
“Aye,” I tell her. “Let’s get you home.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Sasha
When I said that I wanted Ronan to stay home with me, I didn’t really think he’d be able to. But he’s been here for four days, and he’s now officially driving me nuts.
Apparently he took everything that was mentioned at the doctor’s appointment as potential red flags. He’s been watching my every movement. Helping me downstairs. Refusing to let me cook. Telling Daisy she’s not allowed to sit near my belly anymore. I drew the line when he tried to install safety grab bars all over the bathroom, citing the potential slip risks.
“Ronan.”
“Aye?” he glances away from his book, his eyes scanning over me like something might be wrong.
“Don’t you have to go back to work?”
He blinks at me. And then frowns. “Do ye not want me here with you?”
“Of course I do,” I answer him. “But I also want things to be normal. I’d rather you got into the routine of running the club now so when I really need you later on, you can be here.”
“I have it all sorted,” he says. “I can be here now.”
“Okay, but…” I blow out a breath. “You need to chill a little, alright?”
“I don’t understand,” he answers.
And I know he really doesn’t.
“I’m okay. The baby’s okay. I know I had a little freak out at the doctor’s office. But I’m good now. I don’t want you to be so worried about everything, alright? It makes me anxious when you do that.”