Page 27 of The Workaholic Down the Hall

“This is just a routine check-up. It will seriously be boring. Get out of here while you can.”

He sat next to me and put a hand on my arm. “I'm not trying to escape you. I'll come back. There's just a lot going on with the company right now and I hate not being there. What if something goes wrong? I wouldn't be able to get back to help Jill in any kind of hurry.”

I met his gaze and put my hand over his where it still rested on my arm. “Seriously, Noah, it's fine. Go.”

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and cursed. “Shit. There's no battery. Check yours.”

I pulled out my phone and showed him the blank screen. “Dead.”

He sighed and leaned back in the chair.

“You can still escape,” I said. “Main street is only a block away. I bet you could find some way back to Atlanta.”

“I'm here now. I might as well stick around for the appointment.”

Wow, color me honored.

***

“What happens next?” Noah asked. We were in a small room waiting for the doctor. I had already been weighed and had peed in a cup. I was sitting on the exam table, still dressed. “Don't you need to get naked?” There was no suggestive tone to his question, just matter-of-fact interest.

“Not today. The doctor will probably just measure me and listen to the heartbeat.”

He paled a bit and swallowed hard. I imagined this couldn't be easy for him. I remembered the first time I'd heard our baby's heartbeat. It had been the moment I'd realized the baby was really going to be part of my life for the rest of my life.

The doctor knocked and walked in. Noah pulled in three or ten or fifteen deep breaths. He was really freaking out and I felt bad for him. I wished I was next to him, so I could convince him it would all be okay. He had the easy job, he could get away with just showing up for holidays and birthdays and still be considered a decent dad.

The doctor was a kind woman, maybe ten years older than me, and she told me everything she was doing and why she was doing it as she examined me. It was all the same stuff I'd heard from my previous OB, until she said, “We're a bit worried about the baby's growth, so we want to do an ultrasound. Just to check in and see how she's doing.”

“What do you mean you're worried about the baby's growth?” Noah asked.

The doctor turned to him, eyebrows high. “I'm sorry, sir. I'm Doctor Wittier.” She stuck out a hand and he shook it.

“Noah. Noah Reynolds. The baby's father.”

“It's nice to meet you, Mr. Reynolds. I don't think the slow growth is anything to be worried about. Clearly, Ms. Fletcher's prior OB wasn't concerned. Even so, since Ms. Fletcher is a new patient for me, I'd like to take a few pictures and get a look at your little one to see exactly what's going on.”

“What could be going on?” Noah asked, panic high. “Could something serious be wrong with her?”

The doctor put a hand on his shoulder, comforting him, the look of concern on her face suggesting she thought he was about to lose it.

“Noah, it's fine,” I said. “The baby is fine.”

Noah focused his gaze on me and his expression softened, the worry and the tension seeping from his body and his face. I guess I was pretty damn reassuring. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. Let's do this.”

I smiled and shook my head. I hadn't expected him to care this much and it was touching. He was going to be a great father. The doctor used a wand and the baby's racing heartbeat filled the room a moment later. Noah's body tensed and his eyes widened. For a moment, he looked utterly terrified and then his expression softened, his lips tilting up, his arms falling limply into his lap, an expression like awe and immense fondness transforming him. Even though I knew it was a mistake, I fell a little bit harder for him.

“Can we hear it one more time?” Noah asked when the doctor lifted the wand away. She smiled and obliged and Noah listened like his whole world was centered around that one sound.

The doctor sent us to another waiting room until an ultrasound room opened up. “Should we be worried,” Noah said, “about this growth thing?” He reached for my hand and laced his fingers through mine.

I squeezed his hand and reminded myself he wasn't touching me out of physical or romantic desire, but because he was feeling the afterglow of hearing our daughter's heartbeat and he was worried about her. “One thing I've learned through this process is to try not to worry unless the doctor says there's something to worry about. You'll drive yourself crazy otherwise.”

“I like to be proactive,” he said. “And figure out solutions before there's a definite problem.”

“That's the thing. There's not really a solution. This is out of our control. If there's something wrong with the baby, the doctor will give us a list of options and we'll decide at that point what to do.”

He stared at me like he didn't recognize me. “You've been doing this on your own for eight months? How are you still sane? I feel crazy with worry after just a few days.”

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