by Aiden Bates
I knew as soon as the words left my mouth that my moment of thinking had been entirely wasted. It was the wrong thing to say. Entirely. The look of hurt on Bennet’s face only deepened, and there was no way to take my words back.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, Logan, but the decisions you make for your life affect mine now. Maybe you’ll recall a certain error-proof test I took a few weeks ago? Two little blue lines?” He blinked twice, turning icier by the second. “For what it’s worth, the doctors confirmed it today for sure. I’m pregnant with your baby. Assuming I can carry it to term, I think that would just about make up for us not being married. Don’t you?”
“I…” I ran my fingers through my hair, feeling my brain doing mental loop-de-loops as it attempted to reconcile what I’d just said with Bennet’s completely valid point. “I’m not considering this for me, Bennet. If I sign another contract, it’s for both of us. For both of us, and the baby. What did you mean just then, about being able to carry it to term?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not trying to! I’m just worried about you!” The moment I raised my voice, he flinched.
Strike two.
“Okay. You want to know what I learned at the appointment you were too busy to take me to. I get it.” Bennet’s eyebrows raised slightly, his entire face hardening in the wake of the flinch. It was a good look for him, all haughty and angry like that. Would’ve been into it—if I hadn’t known exactly what a bad look it was for him to be wearing in the context of me.
“My uterus is scarred to the point that if I carry this baby to term, it’s going to hurt. A lot. The chance for complications is high. Probably going to need a c-section if I actually make it long enough to give birth.”
“Bennet…” I slipped my boots off and moved to him, dropping to my knees at his feet so I could rest my hands on his knees. “You should have called. I didn’t know…”
“Of course you didn’t,” he declared. “You weren’t there.”
“You could have called. You know all of this is relevant information for me. Things I needed to know.”
“You were busy. I’m telling you now.” His voice broke suddenly. “I want things to be different this time. I thought you did too.”
“I’m sorry,” I said softly, moving my thumb up and down his kneecap over the soft denim of his jeans. “I should have discussed it with you. I’m just used to making unilateral decisions, Bennet. Been doing it for years. Old habits die hard, and I know I’ve got another four years in me on top of this contract, at least. At most—”
“Your child will be four by then. Four more years in the military will mean you’ll miss the first four years of their life.”
“What it will mean is more money for us. More opportunity. If Sergeant Major Walters were to retire or take a promotion in that time, it could mean a lot more money, Bennet. I’d be able to better take care of our child, making money like that. Better take care of you.”
“Interesting.” He looked down at my thumb tracing the line of his kneecap through his jeans with a slight sneer on his lips. “Isn’t that the same kind of thinking that broke up your last marriage?”
But we’re not married yet, was what I wanted to say, but I swallowed those words back down. I wasn’t making the same mistake twice—at least, not in the same conversation, anyway.
“Yes,” I said instead. “Or, well. That was part of it. But, Bennet…” I shifted an inch closer to him, placing my palm against his cheek. He flinched at that too, flinched, but didn’t pull away. “I’ll do better this time around. I promise. I swear.”
“Like you promised you’d take me to my appointment today?” Bennet turned his head away from my touch. “I’m tired of promises, Logan. Promises don’t mean anything if they don’t come with action attached. You can promise your face blue to me, and it’s not going to matter if you don’t follow through with any of them.” He stared me down, steely and imperious as a roman statue. “What I’m wondering is, what is it you’re so afraid of? Me? Us? This baby? What?”
“Not you. Not us. Not the baby. None of that. I want this. All of it. I swear.”
“Then prove it.” Bennet pushed my hand away from his face and rose, before moving past me like I was nothing more than another piece of furniture in my living room. “I’m tired, Logan. It’s late. We’ve both had long days.”
“But—”
“I’m going to bed. If you still want this, want me, want this baby, then I guess I’ll see you there. If not…”
He walked off. Out of the room and up the stairs. To his credit, it was a remarkable power-move. I couldn’t exactly make promises to an empty room.
I dragged myself to the shower before joining him. As little as I liked the idea of sleeping next to someone who seemed like they hated me, not going to bed with Bennet didn’t even register as an option. All I’d been looking forward to all day was falling into bed with him. However, as the water poured over me and the steam licked at my neck, Bennet’s question echoed over and over again in my mind. Was I afraid?
But no. What could a man like me even be afraid of?
22
Bennet
Two months passed, staccato like machine gun fire. Over the course of them, it felt like Logan and I moved through each other’s lives like ships in the night.
Part of the problem was simple timing. Logan’s new schedule—or, I supposed, his old one from before he met me—involved waking up at the crack of dawn and leaving the house before I was even awake enough to realize he was gone. Meanwhile, as my pregnancy progressed, I was needing more and more sleep. What had once been a comfortable eight hours sleep a night—ten as a stretch, and even then, only if I’d worked double shifts—quickly morphed into twelve on the regular, with a mid-afternoon nap for good measure.
By the time Logan got home at night, I was usually groggy, still padding around in my sweatpants while Logan peeled off his uniform and hit the shower. At seven every evening, we usually put together dinner—two separate ones, more often than not. Whatever organic diet Logan had expected me to switch over to had been quickly eclipsed by the force of my pregnancy cravings. Now Logan was back at work, he was back to his canned tuna and wheat toast ways. By contrast, I was finding myself almost exclusively yearning for spicy foods and thick, juicy cuts of red meat.
After, we’d occasionally mess around if Logan was feeling up for it. I was always feeling up for it—having this baby was making me hornier than I’d ever felt before outside of my heat, and whatever whacked out hormone cycle I was riding made it the most intense at night. But Logan’s work left him tired—so tired that after we finished washing up, sometimes all he’d have the energy to do was drag himself up into bed so he could crash back into it and start the cycle all over again.
While Logan slept, there wasn’t a lot for me to do other than stare at my phone and ride out the pregnancy cramps. Dr. Smith and Dr. Lemon had been right—whatever being pregnant was doing to my uterus, it wasn’t pleasant. A hot water bottle held tightly to my lower abdomen helped, but not as much as sex did. I was finding myself reaching for the toy I’d brought from my place with increasing frequency on the nights where Logan was too exhausted to use me the way I so desperately wanted—a fact that was getting sadder and sadder as time went on.
“So you’re all moved in here now, huh?” Silas brought over two mugs of hot cocoa from the pot on the stove, fulfilling my latest round of pregnancy cravings: chocolate, whipped cream, and an abundance of marshmallows, despite the warmer weather we’d been having as summer started. I’d invited him over that day in a moment of loneliness that verged on pathetic; both of us feeling particularly grateful for Garret’s eagerness to take little Jason out to the park for some alpha-son bonding time.
“More or less. There are still a few boxes of things at my place, but we’ll have to drag them back over next weekend after I break my lease.”
“That must be exciting for you. I remem
ber how hard I felt my…whatever you want to call it. Nesting phase, I guess.”
I glanced toward the stairs, thinking about Teddy’s room and the way Logan kept talking about repainting it before the baby arrived. I was keen to do anything with him these days, especially things to prep for the arrival of our little bundle of joy, but so far he’d managed to dodge even just going to the hardware store to pick up some swatches.
“It’s convenient, at least. I’m picking up less shifts from the hospital right now, so dodging that monthly rent check will save us a lot of money.” I sighed, rolling marshmallows beneath the surface of my cocoa with my spoon as the whipped cream melted, turning the steaming chocolate liquid a shade lighter as it mixed in. So much of things with Logan were good, honestly. I just wished the rest would finally come together so we could get to a place where we could both just enjoy the life we were starting together.
“Things will perk back up soon.” Silas sipped at his own cocoa, grinning as he pulled his mug away to reveal a whipped cream mustache on his upper lip. “The second ultrasound is today, right?”
“In about half an hour,” I said, glancing at the clock over the stove.
“The second ultrasound was one of my favorite moments,” Silas confessed, staring down at his cocoa wistfully. “It was when we learned we’d be having a baby boy. Are you guys going to find out, or…”
“I’m not sure, actually.” Logan and I hadn’t had a lot of time lately to plan or daydream about our future. Everything between us was very much rooted in the present right now. “I guess I’ll ask Logan about it on the way over for the scan.”
“He’s taking you, then? That’s going to be really nice.”
“He’s due any minute now, actually,” I said, glancing nervously at the clock again.
But as Silas and I cleaned up the mugs, the minutes ticked away with no word from Logan that he was even on his way home yet. I found myself becoming more and more on edge with every passing second, hyper aware of the weight of my phone in my pocket and the way the time on the clock seemed to slip away faster and faster whenever I checked it.
“What if he doesn’t come?” I pressed my palms against the counter and felt the tension building in my shoulders. “He missed the last one. What if…”
“Hey. Don’t think like that.” Silas came up behind me and rested a hand on my back. “I know it’s hard, but try to be patient. Alphas can be a…mixed bag.”
“Mixed bag suggests there are actually a few good ones out there.”
“Well, there’s your brother. And I think when you’re feeling a little less nervous, you still think Logan is one of the good ones too, right?”
I sighed. “Yeah. I do. Of course I do. I wouldn’t have stuck around for this long otherwise.”
“He’s probably just working extra hard to make sure you and the baby are secure.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t matter if we never see each other while he’s doing it.” It was the thing I’d been trying to avoid saying out loud—because as soon as the words were out of my mouth, two months of insecurities on the subject immediately felt more real. “At this rate, my baby’s going to grow up with a very stressed omega dad and a very hardworking alpha dad who they’ll barely even know exists.”
Silas glanced at the clock himself and grimaced. “Well, you’ve got to get this ultrasound done either way. I’m sorry Logan isn’t here for it, but maybe I could take you? If you want.”
I looked up at him, feeling once again incredibly grateful that my brother had married such a sweet, kind man. Having a brother like Garret had always made me feel safe—even when I was anything but. But now I had a brother-in-law in Silas, I was realizing how nice it was to have someone around who could be emotionally comforting as well.
That was family for you, I guessed. It didn’t matter where you’d come from—if you wanted it bad enough, you could make a family of your own. Garret and I hadn’t been blessed with the best of parents growing up, but we were lucky to have people like Silas in our lives now we were adults.
On the way to the clinic, I sent Logan a text to let him know I was headed over. Then, feeling especially pessimistic, I sent him another immediately after. Guess I’ll let you know how it goes.
Dr. Lemon grinned as he saw me in the clinic room, offering me one of his big, broad bear hands to shake before we got started. “How’re you feeling, Bennet? Smooth sailing since our last visit?”
“Yeah… I think so, anyway.” I fiddled with the end of my paper hospital gown, tearing the edge a little ragged. “I’m still having some pain, but it’s all manageable. Nothing bad to report.”
“Will we be waiting for your alpha before we get started, or—”
“Uh…no,” I said, sounding exactly as depressed about the matter as I felt. “We won’t be, no. He’s got…work, I guess.”
“Oh.” Dr. Lemon’s posture shifted from professional to empathetic, his shoulders easing down and his brow crinkling. “I’m so sorry. This must all be so difficult for you, and to go it alone—”
“I’m fine,” I said, a little abrupt. It was a hard thing to do alone, but hearing the sympathy in Dr. Lemon’s voice somehow managed to make it so much harder. If this was the first time Logan had done this, I supposed I could accept it. But this… I couldn’t believe Logan had done it again.
If Dr. Lemon was offended by the sharpness in my tone, he didn’t react to it.
“Let’s get you ready to go. Seeing the baby at this phase is always a good way to lift your mood. Do you mind?” Dr. Lemon moved his hand to hover over my belly, just at the split in the hospital gown. “If it looks like you’re showing enough, we won’t have to use the wand this time.
I nodded, and Dr. Lemon parted the gown, pressing down gently on my stomach and feeling the space the baby had expanded into. It was strange, being swollen like this. On the best nights—the ones where Logan wasn’t too tired for a little intimacy—we would lay in bed for an hour or two, taking turns feeling my baby bump. Logan seemed to like how it looked on me—I could tell from the way he usually ended up with an erection while he smoothed his hands over my skin. But me… I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the way my body was changing. After so many years of enjoying the abs I’d built up and the way having such a low body fat percentage made them look, it still didn’t look quite right to me, the small hill my stomach was turning into and the little bit of weight I’d put on to help nourish the baby curled up beneath it.
“Everything’s looking good so far,” Dr. Lemon confirmed, patting my stomach and moving over to the ultrasound machine. “Let’s see if we can’t get a good image of your little bundle of joy next.”
The ultrasound revealed that there was a little tension in my placental tissue around the scarring at the bottom of my uterus, but Dr. Smith assured me that a few cortisone shots might help relax that out—and help with the pain I’d been feeling as well. I was more relieved to hear it didn’t seem to be negatively affecting the baby. Chris might’ve done his best to ruin my body—and my life, for that matter—but the things he’d done to me weren’t going to ruin this pregnancy. At least, they hadn’t yet.
“You haven’t been feeling any symptoms of a heat, have you?” Dr. Lemon asked, focusing on the ultrasound screen while he moved the gel-coated head of the sensor over my stomach.
“Not yet, no. Medication seems to be working, I guess?”
“Good. Good,” Dr. Lemon said absently. “Everything else is looking pretty good here, Bennet. All that’s left is printing out the picture for you—unless you’re interested in learning the baby’s sex?”
I blinked, surprised I’d already forgotten about that. I’d meant to ask Logan about it on the drive over, but since he hadn’t bothered showing up…
“No,” I said softly, turning my head away. “I don’t think I want to know that until Logan is here to learn it with me. Maybe next time?”
Dr. Lemon nodded. “In that case, I’ll give you the print-out so you
can show your alpha when you get home.” He smiled warmly. “The baby’s looking beautiful, Bennet. You should be proud of yourself.”
Pride was something I definitely felt as I came back into the waiting room, freshly dressed and with a picture of my baby in hand. It was small, delicate and fragile looking—but it was also perfectly formed, and more importantly, it was mine.
But as Silas and I headed back out to his car, I also felt a wave of frustration at Logan. He should have been here for this. He should have been here to experience this with me. We should’ve had a plan about learning the baby’s sex. Or at the very least—should have heard Dr. Lemon’s big reveal, boy or girl, together.
Instead, he hadn’t even bothered to send me a text to let me know he was busy this time. Hadn’t bothered to so much as call so I could hear his voice before I went in. I could have called him instead, I supposed, but that would have felt like…begging. Pleading with him to give me even the smallest amount of attention. I was far too proud for that, and it would have been so much worse if I’d called, just to get his voicemail and not his voice.
When the call finally came, it was nearly the time Logan usually started to head home.
“I’m so sorry, Bennet. I couldn’t get off base—had a supply truck get a flat right out in the middle of the parking lot. Tow truck blocked my truck in. How did it—”
“Does it matter?” I asked, feeling guilty over how annoyed I sounded but unable to hold myself back enough to avoid letting him hear the hurt in my voice.
There was a pause. “I said I was sorry, Bennet. If I could have been there, you know I would—”
“Actually, I don’t know that,” I said. “This is the second appointment you were supposed to drive me to. The second one I’ve nearly missed because I was waiting for you. And this time, you couldn’t even bother to call, or text, or—”
“Things got busy, Bennet! I’m trying to work so we can afford to raise this baby together comfortably, instead of—”
