Mr. & Mrs.: An Arranged Marriage Romance

“Thank you for being here today, baby. It means a lot to me.” My whisper sounds magnified in the small room.

“I will always be h

ere, sweetheart. Nothing will ever keep me away from you.”

“Here we go!” Dr. Stewart’s entrance is perfectly timed. “Cold gel.” She grins, squirting the lubricant on my stomach, then smirks at my squirming.

As soon as the wand touches my belly, my eyes become glued to the screen. When I can’t see anything but black and white, I begin to worry.

A low thumping fills the room, and it isn’t until she says, “There it is,” that it registers to Jordan and me.

“That’s the heartbeat?” I ask, utterly amazed.

She nods.

“Wow.” Jordan murmurs squeezing my hand.

One tiny sound.

A low thump.

It means everything.

Epilogue One

Jordan

Six months later.

“Hang on, honey, we’re almost there.” Megan’s breathing is heavy and labored as Trainer drives us to the hospital. Dodge is in the passenger seat talking to Dr. Stewart at my wife’s urgent request.

“Jordan,” she calls sweetly.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Shut the hell up.” Her growl is heard throughout the car, and the doctor’s laughter can be distinguished through the line she’s on.

“Right.” What the hell else am I supposed to say? She’s had me wrapped around her finger from the first word to pass her lips, and no matter what, I’ll always do as she asks. Even when she’s been in labor for ten hours and the doctor tells us not to come in until the contractions are five minutes apart.

Seeing my wife in pain, a pain that I can’t fix isn’t something any man likes to experience. But she’s been a fucking warrior. Until we moved her.

I’ve never heard Megan curse the way she did as Dodge and I helped her down the stairs while Trainer brought the car around.

“Your parents are meeting us there still?” She wheezes.

“Yes.” I check my phone for an update from my mom. “They’re in the waiting room with Dr. Stewart.” After realizing how excited Megan and I were after hearing the baby’s heartbeat, my parents really stepped up their game. They went into full-on grandparent mode and asked a thousand questions, including permission to meet the doctor that was bringing their grandchild into the world.

Megan insisted it was fine. Said the reassurance was something we could give them. Mom showed up for every appointment after that. The small examination room was always crowded unless a vaginal exam was required. I put my foot down in those instances.

“Oh God!” Megan’s scream rips through the interior of the car as another contraction hits her. I watch her stomach ripple with the effects of her pain.

“Two minutes now, Dodge,” I tell my friend, knowing Dr. Stewart is listening to everything. “Breathe, baby, I’m right here.” I massage her distended belly the way the Lamaze instructor taught us, hoping to give her some relief until the wave passes.

“You fucking breathe,” she hisses. “Next time, it’s your turn, Jordan Maxwell.”

“Not genetically possible, Mag-pie.” I have to stifle my laughter.

“Don’t you dare Mag-pie me, or those forceps will be going where the sun don’t shine.” Her threat shuts my laughter down. “Don’t think I won’t do it to you two, too,” she snaps at the men in the front.