Page 36 of Unconditionally With Me
Erik stopped still. With Willa still in his arms, he replied cautiously, “No.”
“I’ll talk with her. After all—” I beam at the dainty girl with the bashful smile. “—little girls need their daddies whole.” I didn’t look at Erik again, but I heard his choked sob as I turned to finish with inventory now that we’d just received the last order.
And that night, I called Trina, telling her what I saw.
It’s been a little over a year since that day. We’ll never be friends, but I’d no longer classify us as enemies. After reading her letter, Trina reached out to Will to bury her past once and for all. Trina and Will worked out what they’ll say to her children when they’re older—simply that she wanted to have babies and Will was a friend who was willing to help. And though Trina tried to give him the check back, Will insisted she keep it. “Please. For the children, Trina.”
After discussing it with Jonas, they decided to accept the gift, putting it away for their children’s future from an individual who will never understand the meaning of what he lost by not getting the real gift—their love.
Twirling my wedding ring around and around my finger, I contemplate the idea of another niece or nephew when a twinge of nausea hits. “Crap. I hope it wasn’t the fish we ate last night. Julian’s a wimp when he gets sick.”
Just then, a second wave of nausea hits. My chair flies back. I clamp a hand over my mouth as I race for the bathroom. I barely make it in time.
I’m so busy retching over the toilet, I don’t hear Trina come in. “Listen, I just couldn’t imagine the idea of…eww. Are you sick?”
“It just happened after I hung up with you.”
She snickers before shaking the bag. “Maybe you’re pregnant.”
“That would be a miracle. I have an I-U…” My voice trails off as I recall the voicemail from my doctor’s office reminding me to come in to have the implant changed.
“Elle? What is it?”
“T, how possible is it for someone to get pregnant on an IUD?” I think about the number of times Julian and I have made love, skin to skin, him burying himself deep inside of me, and my thighs clench.
“It can happen,” she informs me cautiously, as if she’s afraid I’m going to hurl again. But instead, it does just the opposite.
My stomach settles. But not as much as my heart.Oh, my God.I might be carrying Julian’s baby. It can’t be possible. Can it? “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
I stand up straight, flush the toilet, and wash my hands, before reaching to rinse out my mouth with some diluted mouthwash. Trina’s grinning like a lunatic, already digging into the plastic bag to yank out a test. “Here, these are the best ones.” She shoves the box at me.
I hand it right back at her. “Then why aren’t you using it.”
She rolls her eyes. “Because I know I’m likely pregnant. Besides, I have like nine other boxes here. We know you’re going to do, like, one.”
Tears prick my eyes. “Do we have a right to be this happy?” I wave my hand with Julian’s rings to encompass my office, her glowing face, and the box I’m holding in my right.
“Yes. Without question. Now pee on the stick, damnit. I’ve been holding mine in for an hour while I fired someone.”
She holds it just a little longer while I hug her tight before I do anything else.
* * *
That night,Julian comes storming out of his office. “I hate words.”
It’s something he says every week when his column is due, so I don’t bother responding. Instead, I tell him, “Trina sent home dinner for us from the restaurant.”
Suddenly, an avaricious gleam lights his eyes before it changes to one of terror. “It’s not our anniversary.”
“No, you dunderhead.” We got married the week before Thanksgiving, and it’s early June.
“Any anniversary? I saw you brought flowers and dessert home.” Julian is in full panic mode.
I stretch my legs out in front of me, suddenly too excited to wait to share the news with him. “I just have some news to celebrate.”
He scowls. “Why didn’t you say anything when you got home? I could have waited to write.”
Because I know you’re not going to be able to string two sentences together after I tell you you’re about to become a father at forty?I think to myself. Aloud, I say, “It’s right here in my bag. It could wait while you suffered for a few hours.”
