Page 22 of Doctor Mile High
I can’t help but laugh at him changing his words at the last second. He sounded so unsure. “Thanks, Hanson. I appreciate it. I feel tired too.”
“So.” Hanson blows out a weighted breath. “Any word from the guy from Costa Rica?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him the truth. I want to tell him about the video that I didn’t watch because I’m a coward. Hanson would give me another lecture about how I’m isolating myself.
I’m making myself be alone.
But it isn’t only that.
How do I know Winston would be okay with me being eight months pregnant with his baby? How does someone even begin to explain that?
“Hi, we had a one-night stand without a condom because we were a little too drunk and I got pregnant. I didn’t know how to find you, but surprise!”
Yeah, I see that going over well.
“No, I haven’t heard anything,” I lie.
I want to watch the video by myself. His video, while public and for the world to see, is for me. I want to be able to feel what I want to feel and experience the emotions I need to without Hanson’s judgment.
“I think I’m going to go to bed. You can go home, Hanson. I’ll be okay. I’ll call you if anything happens, okay?”
“I could crash on the couch. Just to make sure those contractions don’t turn into real ones.”
“I’ll be fine. I just need some privacy. That’s all.”
“Still mad at me?” He snags my hands when I hold them out and helps me to my feet.
“A little. That’s not why I’m making you leave. I just need some quiet.”
“I get it. We all need space.” He kisses the top of my head and snags his jacket from the couch. “If you need anything at all, call me, okay? Be careful tonight.”
“I will.” I wave at him as he leaves while pressing my free hand against my lower back for some lumbar support.
Holy hell. I’m so ready to not be pregnant anymore. I’m so front heavy. I feel like I’m one brisk wind away from falling face-first into the ground.
Not bothering to put the food away because I don’t have the energy, I flip off all the lights and head into my bedroom. Sitting on the bed, I study my bedroom, wondering if it feels safe or cozy enough for my son or daughter.
I have pictures lining the wall of me and my family. My brother, Ethan, and I are only a year apart so I have pictures of us all over the apartment. From preschool to college graduation, I have every moment on the wall because I believe every moment matters.
Every moment deserves to be remembered. Even if you can’t remember every detail, every word that was spoken, or every person that was there.
How you felt never goes away. That’s what’s so beautiful about photos—they hold little bits of love, happiness, and excitement to make you remember how good that moment was.
“I can’t wait for you to meet your family. You’re going to love your uncles. Ethan and Hanson are a handful, but they mean well. They are going to adore you. Your grandparents are definitely going to smother you.” I rub my stomach with both hands, grinning when I feel the baby kick. “You’re right. I need to find your dad. Let’s watch the video together so you know the sound of his voice.”
Leaning back into the mound of pillows I have along with the pregnancy pillow, I get comfortable, pulling my phone out of myback pocket. Opening the app, I type in his username, and his video pops up immediately.
I inhale a sharp breath when I see his face. He’s just as handsome as he was the night I met him.
“That’s him. That’s your dad.” I press the phone’s speaker closer to my stomach so the baby can hear him, and they kick. “I know. It’s nice to hear his voice, isn’t it? One day, you’ll meet him. I promise. I don’t think he would be mad. I think he’d be excited. All I need to do is message him. That’s all I need to do.”
And yet, I can’t bring myself to.
This isn’t Costa Rica. I’m not the brave woman throwing caution to the wind. This is reality. I’m a bit of a mess. I’m not the woman he enjoyed that night. I was someone else completely.
A new video pops up, and it’s Winston in his bed. His shirt is off. I can see the strong, wide shoulders not fitting on the screen. His hair is disheveled and his voice is slightly deeper. That I remember. I loved it when he was sleepy because his voice got a little lower and raspier.
“Hi again, everyone. I’m going to continue to make videos until Dove sees them. I know most of you watching or commenting or messaging me aren’t her. I’m going to have to think about something only she will know so filtering through all these messages is easier. Listen, I’m not interested in anyone else. Please, stop sliding into my inbox saying things likeI want you, or trying to tell me that you could make me feel better than Dove ever could. I’m going to tell you right now—” He grins, losing himself in thought. “There’s no one else that could ever make me feel like Dove did. I’m hers. I won’t stop looking for her. So if youcan’t help me find her, don’t be here. I hate to sound so harsh, but it’s true.”
