"No. They were just an easy way to push you away. I tried to tell you that at Submission, the first time. I would gladly give up the swing clubs if that is what it takes to be with you. But I still think you like the clubs, it is sharing that you don't like. I really think that we could make that work, too. We got in over our heads, but we both like those places. We could figure that part out, I have no doubt. If we were together, if we got married, we could find a happy medium with the clubs.
Never would be fine with me. I haven't gone a single time since I lost you. Going sometimes would be fine with me. You could take the lead on that, whatever you wanted. We could work that part out."
"So it was..."
"I didn't want to hurt you. Dating, keeping everything casual, keeps people from getting too close. If you don't get too close, then I can't hurt you. But with you it didn't seem to matter. Somehow you got too close anyway. And then it was too late. You left me.
I understand that, I would have left me, too. I told myself that it was for the best, even though it hurt me to see you every weekend. I thought that if we stayed apart, I couldn't hurt you.
Until you started dating Roger. Damn, that rocked me to my core. Until you walked in that bar with someone else, I thought I had a handle on things. I love you. I've always loved you. And then you got hurt anyway.
When you got punched, I realized something. Whether we are together or not, married or not, have a baby or not...If anything happened to you, it would kill me. I want you in my life. I need you in my life. Forever.
If this is my baby, and we aren't married, and something happens to me, you have no rights. They wouldn't notify you. Not officially. You would get no benefits. Technically, the baby would. But that would be later, if my name is on the birth certificate. Until it's official, you two would get nothing. I can't have that. You mean everything to me, and I understand now that keeping you away is stupid. In a worst case scenario, the paperwork is what keeps you protected."
"Caleb, what are you talking about? Why are you being so morbid? Everyone is OK."
"Right now, yes. If that punch had been something worse, if I hadn't been right there with you, I would never even have known about any of this, since officially I am nothing to you.
I don't ever want to officially be nothing to you. I want to be everything to you, like you are to me. Officially and unofficially."
Surely I had gotten hit harder than I realized, because Caleb was talking nonsense. It almost sounded like...
"Caleb, what are you saying?"
"When I walked in here, and I saw your happy, relieved tears, the joy in both yours and the nurse's faces, I saw the heart blob thing just twitching away, and I heard the sound filling the room, well, it was magical, you know? I'm not heartless. I believe in life, I've just never wanted to be responsible for one."
I felt hot tears slide down my face again, but Caleb wiped them away with his thumb as he continued.
"But it is too late, isn't it? There is a real chance I already am responsible for one. And you know what? I hope this baby is mine. Because I love you, and I want you to be happy, and I want you to be mine. Both of you. Forever. And if that baby ends up being Roger's I'm going to have a hell of a time with that, because I want him to go away. I don't want to share you, any part of you, with him. Please, forgive me. I was so stupid letting you walk away from me. I've regretted it every single day since. I love you. I need you. Let me be there, always. For you and this baby, whosever it turns out to be. Marry me."
I was speechless. Surely this was the adrenaline talking, surely he didn't mean it.
"Now I know that's not the most romantic thing you've ever heard, but I mean it. If things go complicated, and it's Roger's baby, I'll deal. I want to marry you anyway, right now, before we even know about the baby's genes. I'm all about the complicated, remember? We will deal with whatever comes, together, OK? I'm here. I'll always be here."
I let him pull me close again, hugging me tight as I thought over my newest predicament. I had two good men, both very different, and both willing to stand by me.
But I knew who held my heart.
It was Caleb. Hell, it had always been Caleb.
Chapter 46
Who's Your Daddy?
I sat in my doctor's waiting room, sick, scared and nervous. I hadn't seen a doctor since that night in the Emergency Room, weeks ago. As I waited to see my doctor, I suddenly remembered when my last period had been, and I had a feeling that was going to make all the difference in the world.
I only remembered because I had been having such a bad day that day. I was on my period, grumpy and irritated the night I'd walked into the bar and immediately ran into Ashlee. That was the night I chased Caleb's new flirtation off for her and dreamed about having sex with both men at once. Why that memory came back to me now, I had no idea.
I pulled out my phone's calendar, and narrowed that date down. May seventh. I had woken up in the night to pee after he had left and thought great, this too.
So I now sat in the waiting room, surrounded by hugely pregnant women, wondering exactly what having the actual date of my last period would mean to the doctor, and therefore to me and to finding out which man was the dad.
I got up suddenly, and pressed past a few women milling around the door to the restroom. I pushed the door open, thankfully found an open toilet, and threw up again. God, I'd be glad when this part was over.
Afterwards, I went back to my seat with my mouth rinsed, sucked on one of the ever present peppermints I carried with me at all times now, and waited some more. I was very grateful Kate had told me about the mints. Peppermint oil soothes the stomach, and sucking on the hard candy, pretty much constantly, kept my mouth from watering all the time. Little things like that helped so much.
The nurse called me back, showed me to an exam room, took my information down and told me to get undressed and wait for the doctor.
I perched on the exam table, naked, paper robe open to the front, and dreaded the doctor's appearance as much as I wished for it. I was suddenly very glad I hadn't let anyone come with me today. However this went, I wanted to face it alone.
The nurse at the ER had said that just a couple of weeks more would give a lot of new information as far as when the baby had been conceived, and more than four weeks had passed. I knew deep in my bones that this visit would tip the scales. Right now it was 50/50 on who the father was, but after today I'd know.
I wondered if I could find out without telling the doctor why I wanted to know so badly. I didn't want to say that it would tell me which of two men the baby could belong to. Maybe I could just say I wanted to know if it was made in Mexico or in the USA? That would be funny.
I heard a knock, and the door opened. The doctor I'd seen since practically my very first period walked in, his nose stuck in my chart. We exchanged pleasantries, and he got down to business.
"So, your last period was May seventh." He took out a little plastic rotating dial, put May seventh into a little window on the device and said, "That makes your due date February eleventh, and puts you at ten weeks along today. Congratulations."
"Wow, that thing knows everything. Can it tell me if my baby was made here at home or in Mexico? I have it down to two possible conception days, May 17 here, or May 26 in Mexico."
He laughed and said, "Let me look at a few things and we'll see."
He had me lay back and squirted jelly on my belly, prepping for another ultrasound. He ran through a few general questions about how I had been feeling and told me the morning sickness and tiredness should start to fade soon, as I crossed into the second trimester, in a couple more weeks.
He turned the machine on and pressed the computer mouse-like device to my stomach. He pressed down a bit, and slid it around, mumbling measurements for the nurse to take down. He turned the screen my way and pointed out some of what he was doing.
He pointed out the heart, still beating away like last time, but a bit bigger. He showed me the bab
y's basic orientation in there, where the head was, following the spine and measuring the length. I felt tears start to build as I saw the tiny human in the mass of grainy black and white.
"Ok, everything looks great. The baby seems to be right on for ten weeks, so let's assume a normal twenty-eight day menstrual cycle, and see if we can pin down your baby's country of origin."
He turned everything off, wiped my stomach, and let me sit up and face him as he figured out loud.
"Period on May seventh, ovulation fourteen days later, textbook anyway, means a probable ovulation date of May twenty-first. You say two possible conception dates, May 17 and May 26. Let's take each one separately. Sex on the seventeenth. That is definitely possible. Sperm is pretty hearty inside the body, and can live up to five days in there, so up until the twenty-second. If you ovulated on time or even a bit early, the 17th is very possible. That would also explain getting a heartbeat so early at your hospital visit, because that would make the baby nine days older than if the other date was the date of conception."
"So, sex on the twenty-sixth. If you ovulated late, say the 22nd, 23rd, 24th, well the egg isn't nearly as hearty as sperm. The egg, if not fertilized, only hangs around available for about twelve to twenty-four hours, then it dies. So, for the 26th to be the date of conception, you would have had to ovulate twelve to twenty-four hours before sex, so on the 25th or 26th, which would mean you ovulated very late in your cycle, which is still possible, but less probable. Plus that would make the baby nine days younger, and the heartbeat that much less likely to be seen at your first ultrasound."
His words swum circles in my head. I kept trying to pin them down, as my heart raced. I could hear my heart beating in my ears and asked him to repeat the part I missed one more time.
"Technically, both are possible, but with the dates, and the heartbeat, and the size of the baby, I'd say the seventeenth has it. I'd go as far as to say I'd be 99% sure the baby was made May 17th, with a 1% chance it was conceived on May 26th. Although if there was any sex in between, that you forgot about, that would change things."
"There wasn't, I'm sure."
"So which is it?" He asked with a big smile. "It's not very often we can pin it down quite so well. If you conceived on the seventeenth, is it made in America or made in Mexico?"
I numbly answered, "Made in the USA, for sure then."
They left shortly after that, leaving me to dress and check out in my shocked haze.
I was sitting silent and still in my car in the parking lot for many minutes before I could bring myself to say it out loud.
"It's Caleb's. It's 99% sure to be Caleb's. Oh, thank God!"
Epilogue
Telling Caleb
I fit my key into the front door and was letting myself inside when I heard someone approaching. It was Caleb.
My heart jumped at the sight of him, all tough and detective looking as he drew closer. He no longer wore a uniform, but with his gun and badge at his waist, in his normal, casual but sexy clothes, he screamed hot cop with handcuffs. My body responded to him instantly.
I told myself it was because I was about to tell him what I now knew, that the baby I carried was his, but my body thrilled to see him for entirely different reasons.
I didn't even have a chance to say hello once I opened the door and we stood face to face. I opened my mouth to, but the words caught in my throat the instant my eyes met his. There was a heat deep in those eyes. Any response I was going to make to him just died instantly as we stood there staring at each other.
He closed the gap between us quickly, sliding one arm around my neck and pulling me to him for a kiss.
I tasted alcohol on his tongue as he slid it into my mouth. He must have stopped somewhere for a drink on his way here, which I was sure was against the rules, since he still wore his gun belt and badge. I knew he was honorable though, and wouldn't drive drunk, so it must have been just one drink. I reveled in the taste of it on his tongue, since I couldn't have any myself. I think I enjoyed the kiss partially because of the need I felt in him, and in myself, but also partially because I really missed the taste of good liquor.
His kiss was hot with want already and he nipped at my bottom lip with his sharp teeth.
I returned his kiss, letting him walk me slowly backward into the house. He closed the door behind us, and turned me back toward the now closed door.
I matched the fire in his kiss with my own growing need by pressing myself against him even as he pressed me into the front door.
He released his weight from my body, slowly so I could stand without falling. He smiled at me and bent his head to place a chaste kiss on the very tip of my nose.
"Rough day?" I asked, trying to catch my breath.
Caleb's eyes shot to me. "Yeah, you could say that."
I opened my mouth to ask if he was ok, but the words caught in my throat as he stared at me. His eyes shone with questions, and his body practically hummed with stress.
I stood my ground, not flinching. "Caleb, I needed to go alone. We talked about this."
I watched Caleb's eyes change, just a little. He pulled himself under control, reining himself in. He took a deep breath and shifted his weight. I thought he was going to step away, and was surprised when he stepped forward again, a decision clearly made.
His hands came up, cupping my face, and he pressed me back against the door. He kissed me, the wild abandon from a minute ago replaced with a calm, purposeful pursuit. My mouth opened under his, like he knew it would.
His hands buried into my hair, holding my head still as his tongue plundered, seeking and finding all the answers he knew he would find.
I couldn't help myself, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him tight. He pressed himself hard against me, my body loving the hardness of the door behind me, and the hardness of his need in front of me.
I tugged on his hair, pulling him- his mouth and his heat, closer. I kissed him with all of the pent up emotion of everything that had ever happened between us.
He broke the kiss and dropped to his knees in front of me, his mouth kissing warm trails over my stomach. He stopped for a minute, wrapping both arms around my waist, hugging me tight. He just held me there for a long moment. His breath a gasping, ragged warmth over my belly. I buried my hands in his hair, holding him tight to me. Neither one of us moved for a long time.
"How long until you get fat?"
"Excuse me?" That wasn't the question I expected him to ask.
"I am really liking your new boobs, by the way. Damn, they have gotten luscious. Can I lay you down and slide myself between them? Oh, and I didn't mean how long until you get fat like it's a bad thing. Relax, babe. I think pregnant women are hot as hell. All round, and ripe, and hormonal. I heard one of the guys at the station talking about his pregnant wife. He said she is horny all the time. And wants to try some crazy shit. Are you there yet? Craving some crazy shit? Is my beautiful, pregnant wife going to turn even freakier on me? Because I am so ready!"
"Caleb!" I giggled down at his eager, upturned face.
I watched his face soften as he continued to look up at me. Love glowed bright from his eyes, but I saw nervousness in there as well. I wasn't used to Caleb being nervous, or beating around the bush.
His face got serious and he said, "It doesn't matter to me, love. I swear it doesn't. His child or mine, we are a family. I wish you would have let me go with you. What did he say?"
"He said I am carrying a very healthy, robust set of twins."
All the color faded from Caleb's face, and I thought for a second he had completely stopped breathing.
"I'm kidding. I'm kidding, Caleb. I didn't want to tell him we were unsure of the baby's parentage. So I asked him, based on what he saw, was the baby made in Mexico?"
Caleb's jaw tightened at the mention of Mexico. He could tell me all day long that it didn't matter to him who this child belonged to, but I knew better. I knew that however it had gone, he would have sworn up and down
that it was fine. But, it was with a light and joyous heart that I got to smile down at my husband, my love, and say, "Made in the USA!"
"Oh, thank God. I would have hated to have to kill Roger this close to making detective." He grinned as he said it, though, and hugged me even tighter.
* * * * *
The End
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Two Player Games: (Corrupted 5-8) Page 26
