Page 101 of What if It's Us

I glance down at Marlee curled up against me safe and sound. She’s everything I don’t know how to be but desperately want to try for her.

For our baby.

God, this baby didn’t ask for any of my history.

Our child doesn’t deserve to inherit my fear or my guilt.

I shift slightly, brushing a soft lock of hair off Marlee’s forehead. She stirs but doesn’t wake. She’s so fucking pretty. I honestly don’t know how I got so lucky.

I don’t know what she sees in me or what I did to deserve her, but I’m here.

I’m here for her and for our baby.

“I’m not gonna disappear, Mar,” I whisper even though she’s asleep. “I’m not gonna be him. I swear to God, I won’t be him.”

I let the words hang in the air like a promise.

Not just to her. Or the baby.

But to myself.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s where it starts.

“And when you’re feeling good, I really want you to meet my real family.”

14 WEEKS

I can face down a penalty kill in overtime without blinking. I can chirp the league’s biggest trash talkers without breaking stride. But watching Marlee smooth her dress down over her growing bump standing outside my parents’ home has me sweating through my collar.

Why does this feel like the fucking playoffs?

Why am I so damn nervous?

“Hey?” Marlee squeezes my hand. “You okay? You seem…nervous.”

“Who me?” I laugh but it’s totally to mask the butterflies fluttering inside my stomach. “Not at all. I’m excited for you to meet my?—"

Mom and Dad swing the door open, beaming like they’re about to welcome royalty to their home. Marlee looks gorgeous, even in a casual sundress and flats, but her grip on my hand is suddenly vise-tight.

“If I say something weird, just laugh and pretend it’s charming,” she whispers beside me through a smile plastered on her face.

I chuckle softly. “Youareweird, Mar. I’ve just gotten used to it.”

She elbows me in the ribs as Nick pulls her into a bear hug like they’re old friends instead of first timers.

“You must be the saint who puts up with this guy,” he says, giving her a sincere smile. “God bless you.”

“And you’re even prettier than the photo Ledger texted,” Rebecca adds, also giving Marlee a sweet embrace. “Don’t let him tell you I didn’t make him send one because that would be a bold face lie.”

We all laugh and Marlee smiles up at me, her tight grip on my hand loosening ever so slightly. I’ll consider that good news.

Rebecca waves us inside so I follow my parents into the kitchen, heart thudding like the final score of the game rests on my shoulders alone.

When we get to the kitchen my eyes fall to the island countertop that is covered with just about every casserole dish Rebecca owns.

“Wow. Is this dinner or are you planning to open your own family buffet?” I ask with an appreciative smirk.

“Listen, I wanted only the best for Marlee and I know pregnancy can change your cravings and desires at a moment’s notice so…” She opens her arms wide to showcase the homemade buffet. “I wanted to make sure we had options.”

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