Page 222 of Check & Chase
Chase blinks his eyes open, then looks down at what I’ve placed in his palm. A positive pregnancy test. For a moment, he just stares at it.
“Wait, what? You’re pregnant?” His eyes snap to mine, wide with shock. “We’re pregnant?”
I nod, suddenly unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
“Oh my god,” he breathes, tears immediately filling his eyes. “Oh my god, Emma.”
He drops the test on the nightstand and pulls me into his arms, burying his face against my neck. I can feel his tears on my skin, his body trembling.
“When did you find out?” he asks, pulling back to look at me.
“After the dinner,” I admit. “That’s why I disappeared with Maya for a little bit. I suspected, and she went with me to get the test.”
“You found out on our wedding day?”
“Perfect timing, right?” I laugh through my own tears.
“We’re having a baby,” he says in awe, sliding down my body to press his lips to my belly. “Hey there, little one. It’s your dad.”
His voice is so tender, so full of love that fresh tears spill down my cheeks. I run my fingers through his hair as he continues talking.
“You picked the perfect day to make yourself known, you know that? On the day I married your amazing mom.”
He presses another gentle kiss to my stomach.
“I can’t wait to meet you. I can’t wait to teach you how to skate, how to hold a hockey stick. Or maybe you’ll be a figure skater like your mom—that would be pretty awesome too.”
His hands cradle my belly carefully, as if already trying to protect our tiny child.
“I promise I’m going to be the best dad I can be. I’m going to love you and your mom more than anything in the world. Team Mitchell, the three of us.”
He rests his cheek against my stomach, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“You’re already so loved, little one. So incredibly loved.”
I can feel his tears on my skin again, his joy so pure and overwhelming it radiates from him. I’ve never seen Chase like this—completely unguarded, his emotions laid bare.
“I think he or she already knows,” I whisper, stroking his hair. “Can already feel how much their daddy loves them.”
He looks up at me, grinning like an idiot.
“Thank you,” he whispers against my skin. “For this family we’re creating. For everything.”
He presses one final kiss to my belly before moving back up to hold me in his arms, one hand still protectively over my stomach where our child grows.
As I drift toward sleep, Chase’s voice continues, soft and tender, speaking to our baby about all the adventures waiting for them, all the love surrounding them, all the dreams we already hold for their future.
The last thing I hear before sleep takes me is my husband’s voice, promising our child the world—and I know with absolute certainty that he’ll move heaven and earth to keep that promise.
Emma
Epilogue - Two Years Later
“Easy there, champion. Small steps.”
Chase’s voice carries across the backyard rink as he crouches on the ice, his hands steadying our son’s mittened fingers while he offers quiet encouragement. Ethan Mitchell, fifteen months old and already determined to conquer the ice, wobbles precariously on miniature double-bladed skates, his chubby legs splayed in an instinctive battle against gravity.
I watch from the edge, one hand pressed subtly against my stomach where nausea has been my unwelcome companion for the past few days. The cold seeps through my heavy sweater, but I barely notice, transfixed by the sight of my husband teaching our son the fundamentals of a sport that defines both of us.
