“He has anger issues.” I rub Dean’s shoulder. “I’m sorry he took his aggression out on you.”
He nods.
I thread my fingers between his. “Dean, please just listen to me for a minute. There’s nothing I can do or say that will make this situation better, but we can work on moving forward. Whether we like it or not, we’re having a baby. Your child is growing inside me and will be here in no time.”
“You know how I grew up,” Dean growls. “My dad was never around. I haven’t seen him in so many years that I can’t even remember what he looks like anymore. I don’t want that for my child.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“Are you really moving to Philly?” He winces in pain and touches his swollen cheek. “Fuck, this hurts like hell. Can you grab some ice from the freezer for me?”
As I hold an ice pack against his cheek, he wraps his fingers around my wrist and sighs. “I’m still mad.”
I bite my bottom lip. “Do you hate me?”
“No, I could never hate you. But I’m allowed to be mad at you. I need some time to process everything.” He takes the ice from my hand and holds my gaze. “You should go back to Chicago and pack your bags. I could use a little space right now.”
“But I had plans for us. I wanted to take you someplace special for your birthday.”
“What’s the point, Kat? I’m not in the celebratory mood. My face looks like I went twelve rounds with Holyfield, and I can’t even look at you without clenching my jaw, which is only making the pain worse.”
“Oww,” I say as I get up from the floor.
Dean grabs my arm that’s rested on my stomach. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay? Did the baby kick you?”
I shake my head. “No, I think I pulled something when I got up. The baby won’t start kicking for a few more months.”
“I hope it’s a boy,” he confesses. “I want to teach him to play hockey.”
“Well, his mommy is a hockey player, and she’s a girl,” I point out.
“Yeah, but you’re Nick Baldwin’s daughter. That’s expected.”
“Our baby will have a famous hockey player for a dad. So, either way, they’ll learn how to play our favorite sport.”
“Do you miss it?”
I nod. “Yeah, I loved playing with the Senators. But I knew that wasn’t my long-term plan.”
For the first time since I walked into his apartment, Dean smiles. He bends down in front of me, holding onto my hips, and presses his cheek to my stomach.
“Hey, little man... or baby girl. I’m your daddy.”
I stroke my fingers through Dean’s damp hair. He’s still wearing a towel from his shower, which has been slightly distracting me for most of our conversation. It’s been too long since we were together.
“You’re going to be an amazing father, Dean.”
He peeks up at me. “You think so?”
I nod. “I know so. Our son or daughter is lucky to have you as their dad.”
“Have you thought of any names?”
“If it’s a boy, I was thinking Noah.”
“I like that name,” he says with a smile. “Noah Crawford. And if it’s a girl?”
“I like Savanna.”