Page 69 of The Man I Love

She reached for his hand and guided it toward her belly. “Wait,” she whispered, flattening his palm against her T-shirt.

Every movement became magnified. His breath, her pulse, the way his chest rose and fell as they waited. Even though his hand was settled above her clothes, she could feel the heat of him. They’d made love more times than she could count, stayed in bed sharing secrets, yet laying here now, waiting for their baby to move, felt like the most intimate moment she’d ever experienced in her life.

Then it happened. Another jab to her ribs, this time a little lower.

“Holy shit!” he called out, sitting up in bed like his favorite team had just won the super bowl.

There was so much excitement in his voice that her eyes filled with tears. He sounded like a kid at Christmas, a mixture of laughter and a cry, like a boy who’d scored his first touchdown.

The baby kicked again, and he moved his face closer to her belly. “Hi, little one.” He placed one ear against her abdomen. “It’s Daddy.” But then he froze, as though realizing what he was doing. “Sorry I...” He eased off her, but she quickly held onto him. Her palm on his cheek, her fingers in his hairline. “It’s okay,” she whispered, but there were so many emotions rolling around inside that she didn’t trust her voice to say more than that.

His eyes locked onto hers, and his ear settled upon her stomach again.

Her heart raced, but for the first time she didn’t care if he heard it. He needed this. Needed to connect with their baby. And she needed it too, more than she wanted to admit.

“Does this happen a lot?” he asked, his eyes intense as he held perfectly still.

“Yes.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Do you think the baby can hear us?”

“I do,” she answered, fighting back tears that clogged in her throat.

The sounds of the outdoors filled the dimly lit room, yet all she could focus on was him.

“Hi baby,” he said, “It’s your daddy.”

A roll ran across her abdomen as though the baby moved closer to the sound.

“I’ve waited for this moment for a long time,” he began again. “I still can’t believe you’re real. I can’t believe we made you.”

His eyes met Samantha’s for a short time, but then he closed them, and began telling the baby all about the nights he’d laid awake wondering about who they were. If they were a boy or a girl, what sport they would play, and if they would like cheeseburgers as much as he did. He also worried about their future, about what they would do to make enough money to live, and how they would navigate this world that was even more difficult than the one he grew up in.

“But there’s something I need you to do for me when you get here,” he added quietly into the darkness, his tone softer still. “Have patience with me,” he whispered. “Because I really have no idea what I’m doing.”

Intense emotion surged through Samantha, and a tear slid down her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to keep any more from falling. His words struck a deep chord, though she doubted he realized how much she related to his fears. He always carried the weight of the world on his own shoulders.

She opened her mouth to admit she had no idea what she was doing either, but before she could speak, he continued.

“Your mom and I might not be living in the same place when you get here,” he began, his voice steady. “But we’re on the same team. And I know all the tricks.” He tapped her belly lightly. “So, when you say your mom said yes, just know I’ll be confirming your story.”

The baby gave a hard kick, growing more active. He chuckled softly. “I know, I know… Life isn’t fair. But I promise you, we’re going to do our best.”

He met Samantha’s eyes, and the promise seemed meant for her as much as for their child. “I’ve got dreams for you, littleone,” he said, his eyes intense, as if willing those dreams into existence. “But I’ll promise you something…”

He took a deep breath, the weight of his next words visible in the set of his jaw. “Your happiness is what matters most to me. I’m sure there will be times when I won’t understand you, but IpromiseI will always accept you for who you are—even when I think you’re making mistakes.”

Samantha took a deep breath and lifted her gaze toward the ceiling, trying to steady herself as her emotions threatened to take over. He was offering their child something he had never received himself—the reassurance from a father that perfection wasn’t a requirement to be loved.

The room grew quiet after a moment, save for the soft ticking of the clock and the distant hum of the wind outside. She let her hand rest lightly on his head, her fingers brushing through his hair, as if trying to anchor herself in the moment.

His breathing grew heavier, slower. When she looked down, she saw his eyes had closed, his head resting heavily against her stomach. He had fallen asleep, his arms wrapped protectively around their unborn child, as though shielding them from all the uncertainty that still made Samantha’s chest heavy.

She considered waking him to move to his side of the bed, but she couldn’t bring herself to disturb him. He looked so peaceful—or at least, that’s what she told herself. Instead, she let her eyes flutter closed, the warmth of his presence lulling her into a sense of comfort she hadn’t felt in months. And slowly, she drifted off.

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