Page 54 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

I glance at him, caught off guard by his honesty. The tension in his eyes, the way his hand tightens slightly on the mug—he’s not as calm as he seems.

“You are?” I ask, my voice quieter now.

“Of course,” he says with a small smile. “Having the first ultrasound is a big deal. But it’s also exciting.”

I want to believe his words, to let them dissolve my nervousness, but the nerves just tighten their grip.

“What if something’s wrong?” I whisper, voicing the fear that’s been twisting me in knots.

His expression softens, and he sets his cup down to take my free hand in his. “Then we’ll deal with it together. Whatever happens, we’ll handle it.”

I nod, but the heaviness in my chest doesn’t ease.

The drive to the doctor’s office is quiet, save for the soft hum of the radio. Sam taps his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music, a habit I’ve noticed he has when he’s trying to distract himself.

When we pull into the parking lot, I feel my pulse quicken. The small, nondescript building suddenly feels imposing.

“Let’s go,” Sam says briskly, turning to me.

I nod, swallowing hard.

Inside, the waiting room is surprisingly comfortable. It features soft chairs, muted colors, and a stand of pamphlets filled with information for expectant parents. A receptionist greets us with a warm smile and hands me a clipboard with the usual forms to fill out.

As I scribble down my information, Sam leans over my shoulder, pointing at one of the questions.

“Do you really need to tell them about our sex life?” he teases.

I elbow him lightly, but his joking comment eases some of my tension.

When they call my name, my heart leaps into my throat. Sam is at my side immediately, his hand brushing against the small of my back as we follow the nurse down the hallway.

The exam room is sterile but not unfriendly. There’s a chair for Sam, a monitor mounted on the wall, and the unmistakable smell of antiseptic.

“Go ahead and lie back,” the nurse says after checking my vitals. “The technician will be in shortly.”

I glance at Sam as I settle onto the exam table, the paper crinkling beneath me. He gives me a reassuring smile, but I can see the tension in his jaw.

“You good?” he asks, his voice low.

“Not really,” I admit.

He reaches for my hand, his grip warm and steady. “It’ll be fine.”

A few minutes later, the door opens, and the technician steps in with a polite smile. “Hi, I’m Amy. I’ll be performing the ultrasound.”

The cold gel startles me, and I flinch slightly, earning a quiet laugh from Sam.

“Not funny,” I mutter, shooting him a glare.

“Just a little funny,” he replies, his grin widening.

Amy moves the wand over my stomach, her eyes focused on the monitor. The room falls silent, save for the soft hum of the machine.

And then it happens.

When that first whooshing heartbeat fills the room, something shifts inside me. It's not just a sound—it's our baby, real and alive. I glance at Sam, and the look on his face steals my breath. His eyes are fixed on the monitor, filled with a vulnerability I've never seen before, and suddenly, all my fears seem smaller.

I turn to the monitor, but I only see static.

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