Page 63 of Snowed In with My Best Friend's Dad

"There’s no change from last week—"

I let out a little gasp. I wasn't getting better.

The doctor looked at me. "That's not a bad thing. The good news is it's not getting any worse, and if it's going to resolve itself, it will take a few weeks. Everything about the baby looks fine. Would you like to hear the heartbeat?"

Brett's hand squeezed mine, causing me to look up at him. Emotion swam in his eyes as he looked at me hopefully. I will admit that for a moment, my pettiness wanted to refuse his being able to hear the heartbeat. But while I wanted to protect myself from him, I didn't want to become mean like him.

I turned my attention back to the doctor. "Yes. I'd like to hear the heartbeat."

She flipped a switch, moving the wand a little bit on my belly again until a fast-paced flickering sound echoed through the room. My breath stalled in my lungs and tears sprang to my eyes.

I was listening to my baby.

"It's amazing." Brett leaned over, giving me a kiss on my temple. "You're fucking amazing."

For a moment, and only for a moment, I basked in the perfectness of this moment. My baby was alive and well. And Brett, the man I had fallen for at the cabin, was here. While I would let myself savor this moment, I was never going to forget the other side of Brett.

23

Brett

I'd missed doctors’ appointments when Janine was pregnant with Lindsay. I was a hotshot twenty-year-old kid who had taken his senior project in business and turned it into a half-million-dollar online nutritional company. But to do that, I had to work night and day as well as keep up on my studies. Janine supported my work, urging me on, telling me not to worry about her and the pregnancy. At the time, I thought it was love talking. I learned later that it was her desire for money.

Intellectually, I understood what I had missed by not being on those visits, but until this moment, until I saw the gray image on the screen and heard the heartbeat, I hadn’t truly understood it. Here was my child, growing, thriving, and the emotion of it threatened to bring me to my knees. The only reason they hadn't given way was that I was holding Miranda's hand, doing my best to support and reassure her. I couldn't stop this well of emotion from bursting forth, from leaning over and kissing her temple in awe of her.

As the appointment finished up, hope bloomed that Miranda's attitude toward me was changed. Not that she had forgiven me or now trusted me, but perhaps she was open to the possibility. Open to the idea that I could earn her trust, earn her love.

But the minute we left the doctor's office, she put distance between us physically as well as emotionally.

"Now that we see that everything is okay, you don't have to babysit me anymore." She sat in the passenger seat, as close to the passenger side door as she could.

I gnashed my teeth in frustration. "I don't have cooties, Miranda." I snapped and then chastised myself for my temper. This was what got me in trouble in the first place.

My outburst earned me a slanted glare from her that told me I had just reminded her why she wanted me out of her life.

I should've kept my mouth shut and yet I still couldn't. "Are you punishing me? You want to get back at me?"

She pursed her lips at me. "I'm not punishing you, Brett. But what is it they say? Once bitten, twice shy? In your case, I'm what? Three or four times bitten?"

I turned my head, glancing out the driver’s side window, hating that she was right. Hating that I continued to do the very thing I didn't want to do. Hating that I would never be able to make it right.

“What do you want from me, anyway?”

Respect. Trust. Love. Jesus fuck. I wanted her to look at me like she did in front of the fire at the cabin. Like the sun rose and set by me. Of course, I couldn’t tell her that.

“I just want us to be able to get along for the baby’s sake.”

“I’m doing the best I can, Brett. It can take awhile for gold digging whores—”

“Fucking hell, Miranda. I know what I said. You don’t have to keep reminding me. I don’t believe that. I never did. I was just...” God, I couldn’t tell her I was jealous. She’d never believe it.

“Just what?”

“Drunk.”

She shook her head. I'd never felt so small, so insignificant in my life.

When I got us back to her place, she retreated to her room as usual and I went to my spot in the kitchen to check in at work. When her father arrived home, I gave him a quick update, knowing that Miranda would give him the details, and then headed home.

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