Page 146 of Oathbreaker

Holy fucking shit.

“And if you give me just a moment—” Dr.Greene makes a few more taps, pressing the wand more firmly against Winter’s lower stomach. I look at Winter’s face. Her eyes are glassy, and she has the hand not holding mine pressed to her mouth.

The rapid glub-glub-glub of a heartbeat resonates through the room.

“Oh,” Winter says with a sharp inhale. “That’s the—that’s the heartbeat.”

“Yep,” Dr.Greene says brightly. “And it’s a super normal heart rate of ninety-nine beats per minute.”

We share a silent exchange as our fingers entwine, and I lean down to press a kiss to the side of her head.

“That’s our baby, Sunbeam,” I whisper in her ear.

That’s my baby.

The weight of responsibility for keeping this new life safe sits heavy on my chest like an elephant.

I fucked up by treating August so terribly, and I’ll never forgive myself for abandoning him.

But I’m so fucking grateful that I get to try again—not just with this new baby, but with August and Winter as well.

I’m so fucking grateful that the four of us get to make a family.

Gratitude mingles with the fear, bittersweet on my tongue.

The machine whirrs a few moments later after the doctor removes the wand from Winter’s stomach. She hands her a small hand towel.

Tearing off one of the ultrasound pictures, she hands the rest to Winter. It’s tangible evidence of the new life.

“Come back to see me in one week, and we’ll do bloodwork. But Winter?” She puts her hand on Winter’s knee, looking into her eyes. “I have no concerns right now. Everything looks good. Okay? So try to relax. Enjoy this time.”

Winter nods, her silence echoing louder than words.

“Good,” Dr. Greene says, rolling backward. “Take care of our girl,” the doctor adds, looking at me. Then she winks.

Once Dr.Greene is out of the room, I pull Winter into my arms, hugging her.

“Everything is okay,” Winter says with her face pressed into my chest.

“Everything is perfect,” I counter. Lifting her head to face me, I pepper kisses on her face. “Everything is beautiful.”

Her smile takes my breath away.

A knock sounds from the door, and before we can say anything, the medical assistant is back in the room with a canvas bag embossed with the name of some drug company.

She pops her gum before speaking. “Here. Inside, you’ll find information on cord banking, some prenatal vitamin samples, and some pamphlets for some of our doulas and birth classes.”

She begins to hand the bag to Winter, and then, with a glance in my direction, she puts it on the counter and exits, leaving the door open.

Winter and I exchange glances, her delicate snort a subtle punctuation to our shared amusement.

Exiting the doctor’s office and stepping into the crush around DuPont Circle would feel exhilarating any other day. Right now, everything feels delicate. Fragile.

I pull Winter’s body into mine, putting a protective arm over her stomach. The foot traffic is thick, but Rio is at the curb waiting for us.

We leave the safe shelter of the office awning and step onto the sidewalk when a sudden collision catches me off guard. A dark-haired woman in jogging clothes and a low baseball hat runs into us.

Winter drops the bag, and the contents spill over the concrete.

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