The Other Side of the Pillow

Finally, he spoke. “How many months?”

“I’m about eighteen weeks.”

“What . . . did . . . are you okay?”

“I’m fine. And the baby’s fine. I don’t want you to panic.”

“I’ll try not to. It’s just that . . .”

“I understand. There’s no indication that I won’t be able to carry the baby to term. I realize that you’re concerned about a miscarriage.” I ran my hand across his face. “Even though things fell apart between us, I’m sure you know that there was no way that I would ever, or could ever, abort your child.”

He got down on the floor and laid his head on my stomach. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“This child was conceived out of love, and I couldn’t have picked a better father for my child. As loving as you are toward me, this baby is in for a lifetime of attention from both of us.”

He glanced up at me. “Please don’t make my child be born out of wedlock. It would be different if we were casual, or it was a one-night stand, but your ring is right there on the coffee table and I didn’t want to marry you because of the baby. I asked you before I even knew you were pregnant.”

“Tevin, we need to get used to each other again. We need to talk and do things and feel comfortable around each other again.”

“You don’t feel comfortable with me, Jemistry?”

“I’m not sure. I think so, but it’s been months. And it’s really not so much about you as it is about me. I still have some unresolved issues from my past and before I commit to marriage, I need to work them out.”

“We can do premarital counseling!”

“Yes, we should definitely consider that, if and when we officially become engaged.”

Tevin looked like he had been slapped. “If and when?”

“If it were an automatic yes, then I would just say yes, baby.”

He moved his head up from my stomach to my mouth and started kissing me. I was a goner and we both knew it. The fact of the matter was that I was in love with him and could no longer run from it. It would have been insane for me not to love him. I was going to have to let go of the past and make a sincere attempt at happiness . . . for me, for him, and for our unborn child.

Chapter Twenty-three

Tevin ran me a bath in his step-down garden tub. Then he sat beside me and washed me all over in the most tender way. His eyes were glued to the baby bump on my stomach the majority of the time. He turned on Marsha Ambrosius’s Late Nights & Early Mornings CD to help me relax. Her music is like being serenaded by a songbird.

“When’s your next doctor’s appointment?”

“On Tuesday.”

“I’m going.”

I giggled. “You didn’t even ask me the time. What if you have to work, or have a scheduled surgery?”

“I’m going to take off work and if there is a surgery scheduled, we’ll rearrange your appointment so I can be there.”

“Tevin, it’s not that serious. It’s only a routine prenatal checkup. Why don’t you wait until I get a sonogram next month? I heard that’s when the excitement begins.”

“The excitement began for me the second you told me that you’re carrying my seed. They listen to the baby’s heartbeat and check your vitals and everything, right?”

“Yes, but you can do that right in your bedroom, can’t you?” I splashed some water at him. “After all, you are a doctor.”

We both laughed. “True enough. I’m going to do that, too.”

“I bet you will.”

“But I’m still going Tuesday. I want to make sure.”