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A Baby Affair (Parent Portal 2)

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He’d looked up at her, his expression seeming...impressed?

“What?”

“Strawberry-banana is a staple for me,” he said. “I stock up when it’s on sale...”

“Two glasses of strawberry-banana coming up,” she told him, turning quickly and getting her ass out of there.

* * *

Her medical records pulled his head out of his ass and back into what was a critically important moment in his life. He’d been given the chance to see to the well-being of a future child that carried his genes. He let his brain take over completely as he studied test results and several years’ worth of physical exams and statistics, as well.

Her blood pressure tended to run a little lower than average but in a completely healthy way. Her blood work was stellar. Heart rate perfect. Body weight to height above average—also in a good way. She’d only gained two pounds in the fourteen and a half weeks she’d been pregnant. Also within normal range.

The cord blood bank she’d chosen was one with which he was familiar. A patient he’d seen the previous year and then had to refer due to a leukemia diagnosis, a year-old boy, was now testing cancer free, due, in large part, to treatment with his own cord blood, and it had been stored at the same bank. He’d just seen the boy’s father for his annual physical the week before and had seen a video from the father’s phone of a healthy, happy two-year-old riding a motorized train around the kitchen.

Amelia walked in the room just as he was finishing up. Handing her the folder, in exchange for a tall glass of juice, he took a long sip. She dropped the folder back on the desk and he waited for her to join him.

Hoping she didn’t think that they were done.

While everything she’d shown him had eased his mind, considerably, a lot more went into parenting than physical health.

Some of the most critical aspects of a child’s well-being came from environmental and emotional stability.

When she sipped from her glass, but didn’t immediately sit back down, he glanced toward the folder on her desk. “You had the NIPT,” he said, naming a noninvasive blood test she’d opted to do voluntarily just as added precaution. To do all she could do.

“Yes.” Everything had come back normal.

“Did you opt to find out the sex of the child?” There’d been no indication in the paperwork she’d shared.

And he wanted to know. Just so he didn’t wonder.

“No.” She still stood there.

“Is your first ultrasound scheduled?” Sixteen weeks was most common, but some doctors scheduled as early as eight weeks.

She nodded. Sat down, as though understanding now that they weren’t quite finished, so he relaxed a bit.

“It’s on the twenty-ninth,” she added while he sat there, feeling glad that she was willing to give him a bit more of her time.

“You might find out the sex then...” he told her. “But you can tell the technician if you don’t want to know. It’s not like it’s something you’re going to be able to ascertain on your own and the tech can keep the information to herself.”

She nodded.

That was it. Just a nod.

Did his contract with her allow him to ask about the sex of the child? Was it wrong that he suddenly wanted to know? He could always put in a request at some point. But unless she was willing to share on a regular basis, he had to let time pass before he checked again.

“If you find my next question offensive, feel perfectly comfortable telling me to move on.” He waited for her nod before he continued. And noticed that her lips were glossy now, wet from the juice she’d just sipped.

“What led you to the clinic? To this decision?”

At first he thought he’d just earned himself a quick, one-way trip to the door, with the lock turned firmly behind him. Her green-gold eyes seemed to glow for a second there—not in a good way.

“I’m not cut out for having a life partner,” she told him. “I struggle just working with my sister in business. In my home...” she said. And then, meeting his gaze, shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m really close to my family. And I have a deep well of love to give. It’s just the partner thing...”

“You like to have things your own way. To be the boss in your environment,” he guessed, making certain there was understanding, not judgment, in his tone.

“On the contrary,” she said, surprising him with a self-deprecating grin. “I feel total responsibility for another person’s happiness.” She glanced at the flowers again. “I give up myself.” And then, looking back at him, added, “Which makes me good parenting material. My child can count on coming first.”



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