Celiatsks. “See, now that actually makes me think you might want to consider working stuff out with Colin. It might be worth giving him a shot, or at least letting him be involved in some of this stuff. You guys might be able to figure out some kind of amiable arrangement. And then you could, like, share the frickin’ joy of this whole thing with each other or some shit.”
I glance at her long enough to squint incredulously before looking back at the screen. “Ohreally? You’re the one who was like,raising a baby with Colin would be a literal nightmare!” I point at her face. “You literallyjust saidthis is the karma he deserves. Make up your freaking mind.”
“I don’thave tomake up my freaking mind. This isn’t a simple situation, and I don’t have a simple opinion about it. Also, the sheer intensity of his frickin’ sulkiness about this is getting old. I thought it was annoying when he was constantly acting like a dick to everyone, but lemme tell you. Watching him mope around looking like a kicked puppy all day,errdayisway worse.” She gives a weighty pause. “It’s actuallyreally obvioushow much he likes you and how sad he is.”
My brows knit on their own accord, and I look at her again. “He’ssad?”
Celia’s gaze flits around awkwardly before she levels a look at me. “Yeah. I hate his guts and always will, forever and ever amen,but…when someone’s sad likethat, it’s kinda hard to not feel a little bad for them.”
A sinking feeling pulls at my heart and flattens me more firmly to the exam chair as I look back at the screen.
“Ten fingers, ten toes,” Dr. Carroll says almost automatically as though checking off a mental list of requirements for a healthy baby. She presses the handheld scanner more firmly against one spot of my lower abdomen, and the sound of the rapid heartbeat grows louder. “Ohh-kaaay, Elle. You ready to know?”
He should be here,my mind suddenly hisses.
He can’t. If for no other reason than the fact that me being involved with him could throw a wrench into Archer’s progress, which—by the way—has beenphenomenal.
“Uh…” I stammer.
You could call him, my stupid, traitorous mind pipes up again.He could hear it over the phone, and it would make him so happy that he might even laugh in that way you’ve always loved.
I do notloveanything about him.
Lies. You love his laugh. You love those dimples when he smiles. And you love his eyes. You want this baby to have his eyes.
“Elle?” Dr. Carroll’s voice breaks through my mental bickering with myself. “You okay? Your heart rate is picking up a little.”
“I…”
You love what he did for you. You love that he made it possible for you to finally pursue the life and career you always wanted. Just call him. Let him hear. Give him this one thing.
If I give himthis one thing, it’ll just make him more sad later when I can’t give him the rest.
“Hey, my girl.” Celia’s suddenly stroking back my hair. “You all right?”
“Yes,” I force myself to say assertively. “Let’s hear it.”
“It’s a girl,” Dr. Carroll announces with a smile in her voice.
There’s a stabbing sensation in my heart, and I think I just had my first real chest pain. Either that… orsomething. Something like my heart literally just broke at the idea of this being a once-in-a-lifetime moment in parenthood, and that I really should have let Colin be part of it.
“Ohman,” I murmur, eyes locked on the screen as I try to make sense of the image, but it’s suddenly kind of blurry.
Celia squeals as she squeezes my shoulders. “A girl! This means you get to do tutus and those headbands with giant flowers on them and all that fun, frilly stuff.”
“Yeah,” I say a bit weakly, still staring at the screen. I sniff and wipe my eyes as I force a laugh. “I can’t make sense of any of that.”
“Well here. I’ll show you the profile.” Dr. Carroll moves the scanner again, and after a minute of black and white static, there it is. The side view of what is very distinctively a little face.
A little face that doesn’t have my ski slope nose, rather it prominently features a tiny version of Colin’s straight, strong, aristocratic nose.
I’m staring at a picture ofhis daughter.
Ourdaughter.
And he should’ve been here for this.
“Wow,” I squeak in a desperate attempt to mask my guttural remorse. “She’s so cute already.”
