Swear (Landry Family 4)

Squeezing my eyes closed, I say a silent prayer that someone is watching over me.

“Ford,” I say, clearing my throat. “I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to sit down.”

He heaves a breath but does as instructed. His top button is undone on his work shirt, his tie and jacket both long gone. The blonde spikes of his hair are unruly, and I can see that he’s been running his hand through it.

I wonder what it would look like in the middle of the night after he’s gotten no sleep because of a crying baby. What his arms would look like, so big and strong, with an infant curled up in the crook of his elbow.

“You can tell me anything,” he says right before I start to speak. “I mean it. Anything.”

“Okay.” I take a deep breath and just spill it. “I’m going to have a baby.”

His face slowly changes as the words seep into his brain. His brows pull together, his mouth opening, then closing. His head cocking to the side as his eyes go wide inch-by-inch.

He shakes his head. “What did you say?”

“I said,” I whisper, “that I . . . we . . . are having a baby.”

“This is for real, right?”

“Yes,” I nod. “I took a test earlier. I know the last time I said I thought I was having your baby I—”

His chair flies across the room, hitting the floor with a racket. He’s in front of me, crouched down, his eyes level with mine. “Say it again.”

“We’re having a baby.”

The intakes of breath are quick and shaky as his eyes start to sparkle with a joy I could have only dreamed of. It’s not like before when he was staying calm for my edification. This time, all I see is an elation I couldn’t describe if I tried.

“You’re serious?” he asks, a laugh built into the words. “We’re having a baby? You’re sure?”

I nod, still not sure he’s processed it all.

“Ellie,” he breathes. He lays a hand on my stomach and just stares at it. “My God.”

“I don’t know how far along I am,” I choke out. “I just found out a little while ago.”

A quietness descends between us as he looks at me. There are a myriad of emotions playing out on his face and the longer the silence lasts, the more unnerved I become.

I force a swallow. “I don’t want you to think this is something you have to do. I know this is a lot and very unplanned, but you can walk away. I don’t need you.”

“Maybe I need you.”

As I begin to smile, beam, even, all seriousness leaves his face. It’s replaced with a look of absolute joy. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” I laugh, fighting tears.

His hand nearly covers my entire abdominal area, his fingers thick and calloused from work. I see the little star on his hand. I move my own to cover his, my thumb pressing against the mark of ink.

“I’ve never been happier in my life,” he says, looking away. I can see the fight of emotion in his features as he struggles to stay composed.

He stands, bringing me to my feet and pulling me in to his chest. His arms wrap around my body, holding me close. There’s so much to discuss, so much to figure out, but right now, letting him hold me is the preferred answer.

After a while, he leads me to the living room and sits on the sofa. He pulls me down beside him.

“I want to marry you.”