Page 45 of Chasing The Goal
Always.
Night, Jay
Thanks for making this feel less heavy.
Anytime.
Sleep well, Mal.
Mallory
I hadn't planned onanyone knowing. Not yet. Not until I had no choice—until my belly started stretching the limits of my team hoodie, until I couldn't hide the constant need to pee or the way my ankles were starting to feel not-so-adorable after long hours on my feet.
Definitely not because Connor yelled in the background of a FaceTime call like we were characters in some mid-2000s sitcom. That hadn’t exactly been part of my carefully vague, probably overly optimistic timeline.
I sat on the edge of my bed the next morning, legs bare and chilled, staring at the softest bump imaginable in the mirroracross the room. Barely there. A post-pasta belly at best. Not that it mattered. The secret wasn’t mine anymore.
I didn’t want to explain. Not to the team. Not to the world. Not even to myself. That once again, my shit taste in men had led me here—pregnant, solo, and rebuilding. Jackson had been a lesson in the kind of charisma that blinds you, even if I wasn't so blind. Tall, charming, a little reckless, just enough danger in his grin to feel exciting. And then, when the stick turned pink and the world tilted? Gone. Like he'd been waiting for an excuse. Deep down I knew he wasn't for me the day we ran into Jaymie in the elevator. The stark contrast, almost polar opposites in personality differences. How could I have been so silly?
I pulled on my leggings slowly, methodically, like movement might chase the thoughts from my head. But they would probably stick with me all the way to the doctors appointment for my glucose test. The waiting room would be cold. The orange drink would be disgusting. And I’d be doing it alone.
At least, that’s what I thought, until I stepped outside and saw her blonde bob.
Ava, leaning against the railing outside my building like she belonged there. Hands in the pockets of a long tan coat, lips curled into an easy, no-pressure smile.
“Hey,” she said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I blinked. “What—how—?”
“Jaymie told me about the glucose test,” she said. “I had a clear day. Figured you might not want to go by yourself.”
For a second, I just stood there, too stunned to process it.
She looked at me, kind but not pitying. Like a teammate. Like a friend.
“And,” she added, “I was kind of hoping we’d hang out anyway.”
My throat got tight. I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
The doctor’s office was as cold and impersonal as I’d expected, but Ava made it better. She made a face when the nurse handed me the bottle of orange goo, then distracted me by telling me about the time she passed out during her high school blood draw and had to be carried out by a janitor named Rick. I didn’t gag—well, not too much—and she sat beside me during the waiting period, flipping through baby name articles and pointing out the worst ones on purpose.
“Imagine yelling ‘Braylix’ across a playground,” she said, eyes wide in mock horror. “That kid is either going to be a DJ or a villain.”
By the time I got my blood drawn and was officially free, the fog in my chest had started to lift. We ended up at a café downtown that served overpriced avocado toast and ginger tea, both of which tasted like comfort and serotonin. Afterward, we wandered into a boutique baby storethat smelled like fresh cotton and money. I didn’t buy anything, but I touched everything. Tiny onesies with wooden buttons. Soft swaddles in muted earth tones. A little pair of booties that made something in my chest twist into a knot I couldn’t name.
“You’re going to be amazing,” Ava said, holding up a stuffed elephant and bumping it gently against my arm. “This baby has no idea how lucky they are.”
I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. “Thank you.”
Later, in the back of my Uber, I pulled out my phone.
Mallory
Thank you for asking Ava to come. It felt really nice to have a friend today.
His reply came in a few seconds, and melted my heart just as quickly.
Jaymie
