like the memory would break me in two.
"I'm okay," I assured him. It was my parent's painful memory; a memory that my mother unfortunately liked to bring up often. She claimed it was proof that things will always get better—my father connected with another co-worker that was laid off too, and they started their own auto body shop—but I could feel my father's apprehension every time she started up. 'I spent all day in the kitchen, sure I was about to give Earl the best news, and then he tells me he lost his job. But look at us now!'
"And it turned out alright," I continued trying to get back to that warm, fuzzy, optimistic place. But now I was thinking about our story, what I'd share with people and someday, my child. I'd tell them to pop a squat while I regaled them with how I collapsed at the gym, then ended up at the hospital and...Surprise! I'm pregnant!
I looked down at the bed, picking at invisible lint on the sheet. "With all the drama we've been through, it would have been nice to have some sort of storybook moment. Like we were grocery shopping and I steered us down the baby aisle and started perusing and then our eyes met and you knew before I even said a word. Or I invite the designer over and when she's showing us swatches, ask you what color you'd like for the baby's room. I'd even risk catastrophe, making you a home cooked meal so I could look at you in the candlelight and tell you we're having a baby." I chewed on my bottom lip, the sinking feeling not going away. It dropped a few more inches if that was possible, filling the pit in my stomach like a thick cloud of suckiness. "Instead, I'm in the hospital and-"
Before I could finish that thought and wallow in the cruelness of fate, Jacob leaned in and kissed it all away. His lips whispered against mine first, like he was saying he loved me without words. It was in the way he brushed his lips across my bottom one, then the top. Before I could catch my breath, he thrust his tongue in my mouth. He was hungry and ravenous, demanding that I listen to the rhythm of his body and not the noise in my head. In his arms, there was nothing but love; no regret.
He ended the kiss, his nostrils still flaring because it was a kiss that should have quickly led to clothes being flung all over the place and our bodies pressed together in a way that was definitely against hospital policy. After two breaths, when the lust stilled, he looked so singularly focused on making me understand and believe the words that came out of his mouth.
"We've had bumps in the road,” he started. “Curves. Maybe even a few moments where we wondered where the hell we were even going. But I wouldn't trade a single second because the love you give lifts me up in a way that I know no matter what we face, we'll be okay. And I want to spend the rest of my life lifting you up—and being the best damn dad that ever existed." Tears churned in his eyes. In his voice. "I love you, Leila."
I squeezed his hand, my nostrils burning as I rode the wave of emotion with him. "I love you too."
Two knocks, followed by a 'sorry to interrupt' had us both sniffling and collecting ourselves.
A woman with a full head of wild gray curls and the kindest smile stood at the foot of my bed. A stethoscope hung around her neck and her hazel eyes glittered as she took us in. "I'm Dr. French. It's nice to officially meet you, Leila." She winked one of her eyes at us. "I was rounding when your mother popped over and told me that you were awake and alert and would probably want an update on what's been going on."
I exchanged a look with Jacob. That or she wanted to ensure that he'd told me in a timely and acceptable manner . Chuckling to myself, I swiped the remote and tilted my bed up a bit. "Hopefully my mother hasn't been too annoying."
"Oh, I have stories about Momzillas that would keep you up at night. Your mother is a cakewalk compared to them," Dr. French smiled, walking around to my other side and peering at my
"I'm okay," I assured him. It was my parent's painful memory; a memory that my mother unfortunately liked to bring up often. She claimed it was proof that things will always get better—my father connected with another co-worker that was laid off too, and they started their own auto body shop—but I could feel my father's apprehension every time she started up. 'I spent all day in the kitchen, sure I was about to give Earl the best news, and then he tells me he lost his job. But look at us now!'
"And it turned out alright," I continued trying to get back to that warm, fuzzy, optimistic place. But now I was thinking about our story, what I'd share with people and someday, my child. I'd tell them to pop a squat while I regaled them with how I collapsed at the gym, then ended up at the hospital and...Surprise! I'm pregnant!
I looked down at the bed, picking at invisible lint on the sheet. "With all the drama we've been through, it would have been nice to have some sort of storybook moment. Like we were grocery shopping and I steered us down the baby aisle and started perusing and then our eyes met and you knew before I even said a word. Or I invite the designer over and when she's showing us swatches, ask you what color you'd like for the baby's room. I'd even risk catastrophe, making you a home cooked meal so I could look at you in the candlelight and tell you we're having a baby." I chewed on my bottom lip, the sinking feeling not going away. It dropped a few more inches if that was possible, filling the pit in my stomach like a thick cloud of suckiness. "Instead, I'm in the hospital and-"
Before I could finish that thought and wallow in the cruelness of fate, Jacob leaned in and kissed it all away. His lips whispered against mine first, like he was saying he loved me without words. It was in the way he brushed his lips across my bottom one, then the top. Before I could catch my breath, he thrust his tongue in my mouth. He was hungry and ravenous, demanding that I listen to the rhythm of his body and not the noise in my head. In his arms, there was nothing but love; no regret.
He ended the kiss, his nostrils still flaring because it was a kiss that should have quickly led to clothes being flung all over the place and our bodies pressed together in a way that was definitely against hospital policy. After two breaths, when the lust stilled, he looked so singularly focused on making me understand and believe the words that came out of his mouth.
"We've had bumps in the road,” he started. “Curves. Maybe even a few moments where we wondered where the hell we were even going. But I wouldn't trade a single second because the love you give lifts me up in a way that I know no matter what we face, we'll be okay. And I want to spend the rest of my life lifting you up—and being the best damn dad that ever existed." Tears churned in his eyes. In his voice. "I love you, Leila."
I squeezed his hand, my nostrils burning as I rode the wave of emotion with him. "I love you too."
Two knocks, followed by a 'sorry to interrupt' had us both sniffling and collecting ourselves.
A woman with a full head of wild gray curls and the kindest smile stood at the foot of my bed. A stethoscope hung around her neck and her hazel eyes glittered as she took us in. "I'm Dr. French. It's nice to officially meet you, Leila." She winked one of her eyes at us. "I was rounding when your mother popped over and told me that you were awake and alert and would probably want an update on what's been going on."
I exchanged a look with Jacob. That or she wanted to ensure that he'd told me in a timely and acceptable manner . Chuckling to myself, I swiped the remote and tilted my bed up a bit. "Hopefully my mother hasn't been too annoying."
"Oh, I have stories about Momzillas that would keep you up at night. Your mother is a cakewalk compared to them," Dr. French smiled, walking around to my other side and peering at my
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