Going Deep (Imperfect Love 2)

While she types away on the computer, Killian moves a few wayward hairs out of my face and leans in to kiss my forehead.

“I’m nervous,” I admit to him.

He smiles softly. “I love you. Whatever happens, we’ll handle it together.”

“I’m going to go ahead and put this paper across your lower half, so I can lift your gown,” the tech says. Once she does so, she squeezes some warm blue goo onto my belly and begins to search for the baby. The room is quiet, and my heart begins to pick up speed. I wasn’t awake when the doctor did the ultrasound after my surgery, so I’ve yet to hear my baby’s heartbeat, and now there’s a chance I might not ever.

Just as I finish my thought, a whooshing sound fills the silence, and the tech smiles. “That’s the baby’s heartbeat. One hundred and seventy. Good, strong heartbeat.”

She explains that with me only being ten weeks along, there’s not much to see. According to her, our baby is the size of a strawberry. I laugh absently at what she says, but the only thing I can really focus on is the continuous whooshing sound. Our baby has a heartbeat. He, or she, is alive in there.

I look over to Killian, and he has tears streaming down his face. Lifting my hand to his cheek, I wipe one of the tears and say, “When I used to read fairytales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one.”

Killian’s shoulders shake with laughter as his tears fall faster. “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Chapter four: The Rabbit Sends in a Little Bill.”

“You really did read the book,” I say back through my own laughter and tears.

Epilogue

Killian

Two months later

“We could have this if you want,” I tell Giselle as we sway to the music on the dance floor. We’re at Olivia and Nick’s wedding reception, and Giselle has sighed and gushed over every detail. Apparently, a pregnant Giselle is an emotional Giselle. She seems to shed tears—happy and sad—over everything, from what to eat, to seeing a baby playing at the park, and it’s absolutely adorable. She’s been reading every book imaginable about what to expect when she has the baby, and she’s even been seeing a therapist to discuss how she’s feeling. She’s facing her fears head on, and I’m so damn proud of her for that. She’s eighteen weeks pregnant, and we found out a couple days ago we’re having a girl. Olivia and Nick are having one as well, and the women are now hell-bent on them becoming best friends.

“I loved our wedding,” Giselle murmurs. “I don’t want what other people have. I want what we have.” She kisses me softly then rests her head on my chest. It’s well past midnight and almost everyone has retreated back to their rooms. Olivia and Nick are on their way to Florida for their honeymoon. Although, I’m not sure you can call it a honeymoon when they’re bringing Reed and going to Disney.

I can tell Giselle is getting tired on her feet, but she insisted on one more dance before we head up to our room. We could’ve driven back to our house from the Hamptons, but I thought a weekend away would be nice, and plus, there’s a surprise waiting for Giselle when we return in the morning.

“I need to use the restroom,” she says. When she leans in, she whispers, “Meet me in the bathroom in three minutes.” My dick twitches at her words, and I can’t help my grin. My pregnant wife is always horny, which suits me just fine. I watch, as she saunters toward the bathroom, and begin to count down the seconds until I’m inside of her. While I’m waiting, my phone vibrates in my pocket, so I check to see who it is. It’s from Sarah, and it’s only one word: Done

* * *

Giselle

I scurry across the dance floor toward the bathroom to make sure it’s empty. I’ve been craving to have Killian inside me all night, and I can’t wait another minute. I’ve already seen the Yacht Club’s bathroom, and it’s more extravagant than most homes!

When I open the bathroom door and step inside, there are three stalls. I need to make sure they’re all empty. I’m not even three steps in when I hear grunting and moaning. I stop in place, shocked. Apparently someone else had the same idea we did. Just as I’m about to turn around and give them their privacy, I hear, “Fuck, Celeste.” My hand covers my mouth to silence my gasp. Is Celeste having sex in here? And with who? It couldn’t be…

The door swings open, and in walks Killian. He locks the door and stalks toward me like a man on a mission. “Shh…” I put my finger up to my lips. “Someone is in here. We need to go.” His brows go up, and he takes my hand to guide us out of the bathroom. But before the door opens, Celeste moans out, “Yes, right there!”