And since I know telling them will only be met with judgment and condemnation, it’s so much more important to me that Chris be happy too. I really, really, really want the excitement and the belly kiss and the tears in his eyes and the dreaming about all the things we’ll do once the baby’s here. I didn’t even realize how much I desperately need that from him until right this moment. And even though he’s done nothing to make me think he’d be anything other than supportive at a bare minimum, way deep down inside, the scared little girl part of me that always felt judged and alone is worried he’ll be mad. Or upset. Or … not happy.
“Megan.” He jostles me to get my attention. “You’re starting to worry me now. Please just tell me. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it, okay?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Chris. It’s good news.” I smile up at him, unable to help the dramatic pause so I can swallow down all my fears and believe in all the good in our relationship. “I’m pregnant.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Chris
“I’m pregnant.” I blink at my girlfriend as the words echo in my head, bouncing around until they fracture apart, meaningless, and put themselves back together again.
“Chris?” she asks, her voice tentative, uncertain.
I gasp, pulling her in and wrapping her in a giant hug, picking her up off the ground. Then I put her back down in a hurry, but not so fast I drop her, because … “You’re pregnant? We’re having a baby?” I hope I didn’t hurt her or squeeze her too hard.
Now she’s laughing, and tears glitter on her lower lids as she nods, still hanging onto my arms. “Yes.” A tear slides down her cheek. “I’m pregnant. I found out a few days ago, but you’ve been so distracted and busy, and I didn’t want to tell you on the phone.” She’s talking so fast her words are running into each other, but I’m well versed in Megan spilling out all the information she’s been holding onto, so I’m keeping up just fine. “And then you were so tired when you got here, and then we had the Christmas party, and then you had to get your speech together, and I didn’t know if you’d be happy or upset, and I didn’t want to stress you out more than you already were—”
I cut her off with a fierce kiss. “You didn’t know if I’d be happy?”
She lifts one shoulder in a shrug.
“Babe,” I say softly. “Megan. I love you. I love everything about you. Of course I’m happy to have a kid with you.”
Her shoulders slump, and she lets out her breath in a whoosh. “It’s just … it wasn’t planned. And I was on birth control. And …”
She trails off as I shake my head, dismissing all of those concerns. “I’m happy,” I tell her. “I promise.”
Those seem to be the right words, because her smile firms and widens. “Yeah? Me too.”
Unable to help myself, I pull her in for another hug, picking her up and spinning her around as she laughs. When I set her back on her feet, I kiss her, this time slow and deep, pouring all my emotions into the kiss. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t planned. But our kid is going to be the coolest. With a pro ball player as a dad and an artist as a mom, how could it not be?
Ending the kiss, I pull her arm through mine again and point us in the direction of the car. “Come on. You’re pregnant, so we gotta get you out of the cold.”
She laughs at that statement. “I’m pregnant, not fragile. If I get too cold, I’ll let you know.”
I shrug. “Still. Plus, we have an afterparty to get to. And now we need to stop somewhere and pick up champagne”—I glance at her—“and sparkling cider for you before we get to Lance’s. We need to celebrate.”
She lets me open her door for her when we get to the car, looking up at me before I close it, a hint of doubt once again shadowing her features. “You’re really happy about this? For real?”
Bending, I kiss her. “For real,” I reassure her, my face inches from hers as I look deep into her eyes, hoping that will broadcast my sincerity. “My parents will be thrilled they’re going to be grandparents, too.” Her face falls, and that’s when things click into place. I suck in a deep breath. “But your parents won’t be.” She shakes her head, her lips forming the word no, but no sound coming out.
Sometimes I forget that she still wishes her parents would come around. After that fateful Thanksgiving when I showed up at their house and her dad demanded that she move back home and we walked out together, I dismissed them entirely. Even if we got married yesterday, they’d never approve of me, of our relationship, of Megan. She’s not the weak, abused little girl they want her to be. She’s a fiercely strong woman who’s fought to overcome so much of the damage they tried to inflict on her. But this wound still runs deep, and even though she hides it most of the time, in situations like this, it becomes more obvious.
I crouch down and wrap my arms around her. “This baby will be loved,” I whisper. “So loved. And we will make sure that he or she can be whoever and whatever they want. And they will know they’re loved no matter what.”
She nods against my shoulder, her tears dampening my neck.
“I love you,” I tell her. “You are also
