From This Moment

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From This Moment Page 27

by Melanie Harlow


  How was I going to get through this?

  The next morning, I rolled over in bed to shut off my alarm and winced. My breasts were sore. Had they been that sore yesterday? What was the date? When my foggy head cleared enough to remember what day it was, it made sense. I was due for a period today or tomorrow.

  I sat up, and the room spun a little. Jesus. I need to get more sleep.

  When the dizziness passed, I got out of bed and went into Abby’s room to wake her. My body felt foreign and heavy, like my bones were made of iron. I was exhausted beyond belief.

  Abby was thrilled to hear that Wes would be there Friday morning, and went to school with a smile on her face. At home, I tried to work up the energy to shower or eat something or even turn on the television, but I couldn’t. Instead, I went back to bed and napped for three hours.

  The next few days were more of the same. Crying jags. Overwhelming exhaustion. Occasional dizziness. Sore breasts. And I didn’t get my period.

  I made up all kinds of reasons.

  My body was rebelling against too little sleep. (Except all I was doing these days was napping.)

  I was wrong about the dates. (Except I wasn’t—I remembered the first day of my last period with sterling clarity because it was the day after the hallway sex.)

  I was just having an abnormally long cycle this month. (Except it would be the first time in years that it was longer than thirty days.)

  All the emotional upheaval had disrupted my cycle.

  This seemed like the most likely explanation, and I let it give me peace of mind for exactly five minutes Friday morning before I panicked and went to the drugstore for a test.

  I drove into Port Huron because I didn’t want to risk seeing someone I knew. Back at home an hour later, I stood in the bathroom with the box in my hand, staring at myself in the mirror.

  What was I going to do if I was pregnant?

  But I couldn’t be. We’d been careful, hadn’t we? At least mostly? What were the chances?

  My heart was pounding. Taking a deep breath, I opened the box and took the test.

  Two minutes. Two minutes that would potentially change my life forever. I closed my eyes and began slowly counting off the seconds, concentrating on each number rather than on what the result might be. At one hundred twenty, I opened my eyes.

  Positive.

  Incredibly, my first reaction was pure, unadulterated joy.

  Oh my God! I’m having a baby!

  Five seconds later was a different story.

  Oh. My. God. I’m having a baby.

  I stared at myself in the mirror almost like my reflection was someone else. I brought a hand to my stomach. What the hell was I going to do?

  Immediately, I sensed another presence in the room. I saw nothing, heard nothing, smelled nothing. But somehow I knew I wasn’t alone.

  “Drew,” I whispered. “Help me. What do I do?”

  You know what to do, sweetheart.

  “I don’t. I’ve made such a mess of everything.”

  You’ll be okay. You’ll be more than okay. You’ll be happy.

  “How can you be sure?”

  Because I can see it from here. Life goes on for you, Hannah. Life goes on with Wes.

  I closed my eyes, and they filled with tears. I wanted to believe him. I wanted to feel like everything would be okay. I wanted love to win. But I just didn’t know how to get there. All the same problems still existed for us. All the same obstacles were still in the way. “Help us,” I whispered. “Help us get this right.”

  I didn’t hear anything, and when I opened my eyes, I knew he was gone. I was alone again. Immediately, I took the second test in the box to make sure the first one hadn’t been a fluke, but the result was the same.

  I was pregnant. With Wes’s child.

  The first thing I had to do was tell him.

  I checked the time—it was nearly eleven. He’d be at Abby’s school. Without even thinking about what I was going to say, I got in the car and drove there.

  Twenty-Five

  WES

  “Thank you so much for coming,” said Abby’s teacher, offering her hand.

  I shook it. “It was my pleasure. The kids were great.”

  “It was very nice of you to let them all try your stethoscope, too.”

  “Of course.” I turned to Abby, an ache in my chest. “Bye, sweetheart.”

  She’d worn a huge smile for the last hour, but now she looked troubled and sad. “When will I see you again?”

  “How about I take you out for ice cream this weekend?”

  “Okay.” But she still didn’t look happy.

  I bent down and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you soon, promise.”

  “Okay, Abby. Time to get to work.” Mrs. Lowry took Abby by the shoulders and steered her toward a table where three other kids sat working on a math activity. “Thanks again, Dr. Parks.”

  I gave Abby one final wave before leaving the classroom, shutting the door behind me. As I walked down to the office and signed out, I wondered what to do with the rest of my day. I’d told my dad I wouldn’t be in at all, but I was almost tempted to go to the office anyway, just to have the distraction. There was plenty of work to be done at my house—rooms to be painted, carpet to be ripped out, furniture to buy—but I didn’t feel like doing that, either. What I wanted to do was drive over to Hannah’s house and tell her to stop being so stubborn. Convince her that I’d always, always choose her. Let her know that I hadn’t spoken to my mother in two weeks, I’d refused her calls, and I’d repeatedly told my father to tell her I wasn’t ready to talk.

  But Jack had said she needed time to get over her fears. Was he right? Or was I an idiot, stepping aside again when I should have been going after what I wanted?

  Angrily, I pushed open the heavy metal door that led to the parking lot and headed toward my car. Then I stopped dead in my tracks, because there she was.

  I almost thought I was imagining her, standing by my car, brown hair loose around her shoulders, arms wrapped around herself like she was chilly in the brisk October air.

  As for me, I’d started to sweat.

  I resumed walking toward her as my heart galloped in my chest. I’m not walking away this time, I vowed. No matter what, I am not fucking walking away.

  “Hi,” she said when I got close enough to hear her.

  “Hey.” Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. I wanted to hug her, but I wasn’t sure I should. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay. You?”

  “Okay.” Then I frowned. “No. You know what? I’m not okay. I’ve spent every minute of the last two weeks being miserable without you and regretting all the mistakes I made that led to that point. I’m so sorry, Hannah. I’m sorry about what my mother said to you, I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for us, and I’m sorry I didn’t have the right words to make you understand that I would die before ever letting anyone come between us.” I gripped her upper arms. “Say you still love me. Say we still have a chance. Say you could be happy with me, and I’ll spend every damn day of my life making sure it happens.”

  “Wes,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

  Nothing she said could have stunned me more.

  “What?”

  “I’m pregnant.” She sniffed. “I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t—”

  I crushed my lips to hers as adrenaline rushed through me. She’s pregnant. I’m going to be a father. We’re going to be a family.

  Suddenly it made sense—my feelings for her all these years. We were always headed for this moment. I lifted my head and looked down at her in disbelief. “This is incredible. Oh, my God.”

  She didn’t look as if she thought it was incredible. Her expression was worried, her arms still tightly wrapped around herself. “But this doesn’t solve anything. All our problems aren’t going to magically disappear because of a baby.”

  I took her face in my hands. “We don’t need magic. Do you love me?�


  “Yes.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then listen to me. No matter what, we are going to be a family. You and me and Abby and this baby. We are going to make a life together. I don’t care if we leave this town and never come back. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I don’t care about anything but you. Us.”

  She’d started to weep. “But your parents. And your house. And your practice.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about any of it. Do you hear me? I’m going to take care of you, Hannah. For the rest of our lives.” I knew it was true. As surely as I knew my own name, I knew it was true.

  “But—”

  “Shh.” I put my finger on her lips. “You just made me the happiest man alive, Hannah. I don’t want to argue with you. You know what I want to do?”

  “What?” She wiped her eyes.

  “Dance.”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me.” I moved her aside, opened the car door, and leaned in to start the engine. My radio was still tuned to the forties station she and Abby liked, and I turned up the volume. The song playing was a ballad, an instrumental big band tune I recognized but didn’t know the name of. I rolled down the windows and shut the door. “Will you dance with me?”

  “Wes.” She looked around, her cheeks coloring.

  I took her hand. “You once said that you’d always say yes if I asked you to dance.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yes.” I pulled her into my arms. “And I intend to hold you to that promise. Forever.”

  “But kids could be watching.”

  “I don’t care who’s watching. In fact, I wish everybody in the entire world could see us right now.”

  She laughed as I swayed her to the music. “You’re crazy.”

  “Nope. I’m just in love.”

  “Me too,” she said softly.

  I pulled her closer and whispered in her ear. “I’m never going to let you go.”

  She laid her cheek on my chest. “Good.”

  I took her to my house. “I only have one piece of furniture,” I said as we walked in the front door, “but it’s the only one I care about right now anyway.” Taking her by the hand, I led her up the stairs to my bedroom, where we undressed each other and slipped between the sheets. I didn’t even have curtains on the windows yet, so the room was bright and I could admire her naked body all I wanted.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I told her, running my hands all over her golden skin. “The most beautiful girl in the world.”

  “Oh, stop.”

  “I mean it. I thought so then, and I think so now.”

  Her voice softened. “Thank you. You make me feel that way.”

  I pressed my lips to her bare stomach. “Hi, baby.”

  She laughed gently and played with my hair.

  “I love you,” I said to the life inside her. “You surprised us, but I love you. And I’m so grateful.” I kissed her belly again and laid my cheek on it, looking up at her. My heart was fuller than it had ever been.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “How lucky I am. How crazy this is.”

  She smiled.

  “How fun it will be to watch your belly get enormous.”

  “Hey!” Laughing, she slapped my shoulder.

  Grinning, I sat up and stretched out next to her, placing a hand on her stomach. “I can’t stop touching you.”

  “No complaints.”

  I kissed her, pulling her closer to me. She reached between us and stroked my cock, which was already hard and aching for her. The hand that had been on her stomach slid lower. She moaned and moved her hips against my hand.

  “Wes,” she whispered against my lips. “I want you so badly.”

  I turned her beneath me, and knelt between her thighs. My fingers slid inside her with ease.

  “Please,” she begged, reaching for me. “It feels like it’s been forever.”

  We don’t have to use any protection, I realized, and the thought made my dick even harder. It had to be some kind of ridiculous Cro-Magnon instinct that had survived the evolution of man, the possessive pride I felt as I pushed inside her, knowing that I’d gotten her pregnant. I felt all-powerful as I began to move, rocking my body into hers, reminding her who she belonged to.

  Mine, mine, mine, I thought with every thrust of my hips, every stroke of my cock, every strangled grunt that tore from my throat. Her body, her heart, her soul, her life—all of it was forever and inextricably intertwined with mine. And when she whispered my name and told me not to stop and begged me to come with her, my body obeyed, because she owned me just as fully as I owned her.

  “I love you,” I said, over and over as I throbbed inside her.

  She clung to me, her body pulsing in tandem with mine, her heart beating hard against my chest.

  “Hannah,” I said, looking down at her. I hadn’t even caught my breath, and my heart was racing madly. “Marry me. Be my wife.”

  She put her hands on either side of my face. “Yes,” she said, tears dripping from her eyes. “Yes.”

  I brushed her hair back from her face. “No more tears, okay? From this moment on, we’re going to be happy.”

  She nodded and smiled. “Love wins.”

  I smiled too. “Love wins.”

  Later we took Abby out for dinner, and I couldn’t get enough of her smile as she ate her cheeseburger and fries and told Hannah about my visit at her school.

  “Hey Abby,” I said as she dug into her ice cream sundae. “Did you know it’s my birthday tomorrow?”

  “It is?” Her eyes were wide as she licked chocolate sauce from her spoon. “How old are you?”

  “Thirty-seven.”

  “Oh my gosh,” she said. “You’re even older than Mommy.”

  “I am.” I grinned at her. “Know what I want for my birthday?”

  “What?”

  “I want to go shopping with you.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. While Mommy is at work tomorrow, will you hang out with me?”

  She looked at her mom for confirmation, and Hannah nodded, but she looked a little concerned. “It’s okay with me, but the sitter is coming. I have to leave for work pretty early.”

  “Cancel the sitter,” I told her. “I’ll come early and take her out for breakfast.”

  “Yay!” Abby smiled, her mouth decorated with chocolate sauce.

  When Hannah excused herself to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, I motioned Abby closer. “Guess what I want to buy for your mommy?” I whispered loudly.

  “What?” she whispered back.

  “A ring. Do you think you can help me pick one out?”

  Her eyes danced with excitement. “Yes!”

  “Okay but it’s our secret for now. Don’t tell her until we give it to her.”

  “But when will that be?”

  “Soon,” I told her. “Maybe even tomorrow night.” I spied Hannah coming back to the table, and put a finger to my lips. “Shh.”

  She nodded.

  “And what has you two looking so mischievous?” Hannah asked as she sat down again.

  “Oh, nothing.” I gave Abby a wink, and she put her hands over her mouth, giggling girlishly.

  We’d agreed to hold off telling her about the baby for now, just until Hannah was a few more weeks along and we’d decided on a plan—when we’d get married, where we’d live, how we’d break the news to our families.

  Hannah was sure her mom would be happy for us. My mom was a different story.

  “We’ll tell her together and give her one chance to be happy for us,” I said quietly on the drive home. “If she chooses to be otherwise, that’s her loss.”

  She nodded. “When should we do it?”

  But I didn’t answer her, because I’d just turned onto Hannah’s street and noticed a car in her driveway—a beige Mercedes that looked a lot like the one my mother drove.

  Sure enough, a
s we got closer, I saw her get out of the car.

  Hannah saw too. “Oh my God. What do we do?”

  “Relax.” I took her hand. “We’re okay. Let’s find out what she wants.”

  I parked in the street, and we got out of my car. When Abby saw her grandmother, she immediately ran to her. “Nana!”

  “Abby!” My mother scooped her up and hugged her. “I have missed you and missed you and missed you! My goodness, I think you got taller.”

  Abby laughed. “We were out for dinner.”

  My mother looked at Hannah and I on the sidewalk where we stood holding hands. “Were you?”

  She seemed nervous to me, but it was getting dark and I couldn’t read her expression that well. “What are you doing here, Mom?”

  “Actually, I came to talk to Hannah.”

  “Whatever you have to say to Hannah, you can say to me.”

  My mother nodded, but Hannah squeezed my hand. “Wes, maybe you should take Abby inside.”

  We exchanged a look, and I understood—she didn’t want Abby to overhear anything negative. “Okay. I’ll be right inside if you need me.”

  She handed me her keys, and I reached for Abby’s hand. “Come on, princess. Let’s go in.”

  With one final look at my mother—a warning—I led Abby up the front walk and took her inside.

  Twenty-Six

  HANNAH

  I folded my arms in front of my chest. “What do you want?”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “This isn’t easy.”

  “What isn’t?”

  Her hands were fidgety. “Coming here to admit I was wrong.”

  “About what?”

  “Lots of things.”

  “I’m listening.”

  She glanced at the house. “My son hasn’t spoken to me in two weeks.”

  “I heard.”

  “And I guess I deserved it for what I tried to do.”

  I agreed, but I let that one go by.

  “I miss him. I feel like I’ve lost both sons.” Her voice caught, and I felt pang of sorrow for her. “We had terrible words, he and I. Before he left.”

 

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