Page 30 of Everything We Give

She’d whispered the announcement, the pregnancy stick shaking in her hand.

She was worried. We both were. Given my own childhood, I had serious doubts how I’d handle myself as a father. Would I be like my dad and make myself scarce when life at home became difficult? Did I even want to be a father? Aimee and I had only been dating a few months. We had yet to discuss marriage, let alone the future. But within a heartbeat of her announcement, I realized two things. I wanted to be the father of Aimee’s child and I wanted to spend my life with her. I’d do anything to make her happy. I’d give up photography, I loved her that much. Still do.

In a whirlwind of activity, she moved in with me, and by early June we were married. Six months after we’d officially started dating.

Six months after she’d left James behind in Mexico.

Did I rush her into marriage? I mull over Aimee’s question while waiting at a light. I’d been crazy sick in love with her for more months than I care to admit and to finally have her want me just as much? It meant everything. Because up to that point in my life, I had no one except me, myself, and my photography, which I didn’t want to give up—ever—I realized back at the house while I showered after the gym. I want it all: my family, to make peace with my mom, and thatNationalGeographicassignment I’ve been pining for since I first picked up a camera.

The light changes and I acknowledge that the plan I worked out at home, the one I convinced Al Foster to agree to, is the right one.

Turning into the hospital parking lot, I find an empty space near the main entrance—lucky me—and head upstairs to the maternity ward. I find Nadia flipping through a rag magazine in the waiting room, which smells of hand sanitizer and floral bouquets. Plastic plants fill the corners. Over the intercom, an Evelyn Wright is requested to come to the nursing station.

Nadia puts aside the magazine and stands up when she sees me. “Hi, Ian.” She gives me a hug.

“Hey, how’s Kristen?” I remember to ask as I look around for Aimee.

“She’s good. Aimee and I were just in there with her until the doctor arrived.” Nadia glances at her phone. “Baby Theo should arrive any moment. Nick’s over the moon.”

His first son. “That’s great.” I nod, somewhat distracted. “Where’s Aimee? I tried to reach her to let her know I was on my way.”

“She probably didn’t get your call. The reception in here is spotty. She’s over at the nursery.”

I give Nadia’s arm a squeeze. “Thanks.”

Going on memory from when we were here for Caty’s birth, I make my way to Aimee. She stands in front of the nursery window, arms crossed, hands clasped over her elbows. I come up beside her and wrap my arm around her, letting my hand rest on her lower back.

“Can you believe Caty was that tiny?” Aimee asks, awe in her voice.

“Her head used to fit in the palm of my hand.”

“And her scent.” She inhales deeply, lost in her memories.

“Which end? Because the smell I remember—”

“Ian. Gross.” Aimee laughs, a low vibration, and I can’t help grinning. She ribs me with her elbow. “Her scalp, not her rear. And her skin, her special baby scent.” She sighs, wistful. “I miss that.”

“Me, too,” I say, looking down at Aimee, remembering the way she held Caty as she nursed, the way that special mother-daughter bond evolved before my eyes.

Aimee’s gaze roams over the babies aligned like cars in a sales lot. We both grew up as only children and neither of us has broached the subject of giving Caty a sibling. We’ve been too busy, but I see the longing in Aimee.

“Ian.” She turns to me. “Do you—”

I rest a finger on her lips, halting the question I know she’ll ask.Do you want another baby?I do. With Aimee, I’ll have a dozen. But there is something I must tell her, the apology I realized I owe her. And there’s something I need to do before we consider bringing another child into the world. I need to resolve my own issues and put my past to rest.

Aimee frowns, her expression asking me what’s wrong.

“I had a really good workout. I cleared my head and figured out why I’ve been such a dick toward you lately.”

“You haven’t been a—”

“Yes, I have,” I interrupt. “I haven’t been fair with you about James. It’s not your history with him that bothers me. We both have past relationships, some more meaningful and intense than others.” I quirk a brow in reference to her ex. “We can’t change our past, but we can do something about how we move forward together.”

I grasp her shoulders and dip my face so that my eyes are level with hers. “I trust you, Aimee. I believe you when you say you love me and want to spend your life with me. I know James is in your past and that you’ve moved on. You’ve had closure on that chapter of your life, where with my mom, I”—my arms fall limp at my sides and I take a step back—“I haven’t.”

Her eyes dart left and right, searching my face. “What are you saying, Ian? Your tone sounds funny.”

“There’s been a change of plans. I leave for Spain tonight.”

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