Page 108 of Release Me

“Yes,” Nadia says, and for some odd reason I find myself holding my breath, afraid that in the last five seconds she’s changed her mind and decided she doesn’t want to keep the baby after all. When my head starts to feel all fuzzy inside, I force myself to release that thought and tune into the conversation. “Sebastian and I have decided that we want to keep the baby.”

Dr. Suffrant looks at me for confirmation, and I feel my head begin to bob up and down without any instruction from my brain. Thankfully, it’s good enough for the doctor. For the rest of the appointment, all of her attention is on Nadia and the baby. She gives Nadia a full work up, which includes some early scans of the little person growing inside of her, and writes her a prescription for some anti-nausea medicine as well as prenatal vitamins.

We leave the appointment feeling lighter and more hopeful than we have since the flowers arrived on our doorstep, and when we get to my parents’ house for lunch, I’m barely containing the desire to share the news with everyone who will listen.

And by barely, I mean not at all.

Nadia and I standing in the entry way when I finally burst.

“I think we should tell them about the baby,” I say, taking her coat and hanging it up in the closet by the door. There’s a picture of our baby in the pocket of her coat. Right now, at almost eleven weeks gestation, they’re only the size of a strawberry, but to me, they’re huge. This large and looming figure that rests in the clouds above my head, shining light and hope down on me.

“What?” Nadia asks, and her expression tells me that she heard me, she’s just asking me to repeat myself to make sure she heard me correctly.

“I think we should tell them about the baby.”

She shakes her head. “No, Sebastian, we can’t. It’s too early. I’m not even out of my first trimester.”

“I know, but Dr. Suffrant said you and the baby are both healthy and that everything is looking good.”

“And she also said that the risk of miscarriage is significant until I get through the twelfth week of pregnancy.”

I almost open my mouth to tell her not to think like that, to remind her that just because bad things can happen doesn’t mean they will, but then I remember who I’m talking to. I remember that the woman in front of me is an orphan and a survivor of abuse. I remember that one day her life was good. She had parents and a home full of love and happiness, and then, in the blink of an eye, it was all taken away from her.

Of course, she’s afraid. Of course, she’s thinking about the things that could go wrong instead of the things that could go right. Of course, she’d want to hold this secret close to her chest until the risk is minimized, until the likelihood of tragedy lies within an acceptable boundary that’s nowhere near her or our child.

“You’re right,” I concede. “We can wait to tell them.”

Nadia bites her lip, and she’s so adorable I want to kiss her. “Just for a few more weeks, okay?”

Her compromise is appreciated but unnecessary. I put my hands on her waist and lean down to plant a kiss on her lips. “A few weeks. Forever. Whatever you want, precious.”

“We can’t wait forever, Sebastian,” she murmurs, breathless as I kiss a line down her neck. “Eventually someone is going to notice that I’m not drinking wine, and I’m going to start showing soon.”

The promise of her growing belly elicits a groan from deep in my chest, and the sound of it vibrates against the delicate skin of Nadia’s neck. She squirms her way out of my hold, laughing at my reaction.

“Do you have a thing for pregnant women, Mr. Adler?”

“I have a thing for you, Miss Hendrix.” I reach for her again, but she dances her way out of my touch, forcing me to follow her as she runs down the hall toward the kitchen. I cross the threshold mere moments after Nadia does, but she’s already sought asylum on the barstool between my father and Luca who both give me questioning looks when I enter the room.

“Everything okay, son?” Dad’s question does very little to cover the snicker Nadia tries to hide behind her hand. I give her a look that communicates exactly how I intend to punish her later before turning my gaze on my father.

“Yeah, Dad, everything is fine.”

“Great, now we can eat,” Mom says, taking the lid off of the pot of chili on the stove. She’s already set out bowls with freshly shredded cheese and sliced jalapeños on the counter next to a pan of sweet potato cornbread and a host of other fixings we never manage to eat.

“We’re not waiting for Dre and Zoe?”

“Zoe has a client and Dre has some important meeting at the school he apparently can’t miss,” Luca says, hopping up to grab a stack of empty bowls from the cabinet for us to eat out of.

“It’s not just any meeting, Luc,” Dad replies. “The board has offered him a new position at the university.”

I take two of the bowls Luca just sat on the counter. One for me and the other for Nadia who is still seated because for some reason scooping food out of pots makes her less likely to eat it. “What’s the position?”

“President of the University.” This comes from Mom who is smiling wider than she did the day Dre won that spelling bee with no front teeth. “They want him to replace Dr. Daniels. He told me everyone on the board said he’s the best man for the job.”

“What happened to Dr. Daniels?” Nadia asks.

“Sex scandal,” Luca replies. “Apparently he was harassing female professors, offering them promotions in exchange for sexual favors and retaliating when they turned him down. The board gave him the boot immediately, and now they want Dre to take over because he’s as straight laced and boring as they come.”

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