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Chapter Ten
Phoebe
“He’s not coming.” The realization hit me as I watched the ultrasound tech glance at her watch for the fourth time in less than ten minutes.
“You don’t know that,” Faith said, chewing her fingernails as if they were her last meal.
A defeated laugh escaped my lips. “Don’t patronize me, Faith. I specifically told him the day and time. He promised he’d be here. My appointment is almost over. I think it’s a lost cause.” I shifted my eyes toward the tech who’d been fiddling with the knobs on the machine.
“Mrs. Ryan…” she began with an apologetic frown.
“It’s Miss Ryan.” The correction held more sharpness than intended.
“Of course, I’m sorry. Miss Ryan, I wish I had more time, but we have other patients waiting. We completed the required measurements and dating of the fetus. While your baby is on the small side, it’s still normal for this stage of pregnancy.” She stared between Faith and me. “The only thing left is to determine the sex of the baby. I know you wanted the father here, but would you still like to know?”
“Yes!” Faith exclaimed loudly.
“No,” I said at the same time, my tone flat.
Faith’s head whipped around and she shot me an incredulous look. “Isn’t that’s why we came here?”
I shook my head. “As pissed as I am, I can’t do that to him. It wouldn’t be right.”
“It’s your call,” she said, attacking her other set of nails. “But are you sure?” She seemed skeptical, but I held firm as an idea formed in my head. I focused on the tech, still sitting beside me with the ultrasound wand in her hand.
“Would it be possible for you to turn the monitor away from us and determine the sex of the baby without us knowing?”
“I suppose so. Why?” she asked curiously.
I squared my jaw. “Because I don’t give up so easily.”
***
Faith waited outside as I changed clothes. I was thankful to have her in my life again, especially today. Living in a place with three classes of people—famous, about to be famous, and the rest of LA—it comforted me to have a living reminder of home with me. The kind of home that felt safe and familiar.
Much like my roommate, Gage, had been when I first moved to New York, Faith was my rock during Julian’s long absences, and the budding relationship she and Zane were cultivating couldn’t make me happier. The electric stares they gave each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking reminded me of the early days with Julian. Watching the excitement and newness through their eyes, I couldn’t help but reflect on a time where all made sense and we were invincible. I laughed and raked my hand across my forehead.
Invincible.
That was the last thing I felt. In fact, Julian’s actions made me more confused than I’d ever been. Glancing down, I ran both hands down my belly and garnered a response of a solid kick against my palm. It wouldn’t be long now. Two months. Eight weeks. Fifty-six days.
Life as I knew it would change forever.
Half of the time, the thought of bringing our baby into the world excited me. The other half scared the shit out of me. Not just by adding a third person into our volatile relationship, but as a rule, I’d never been big on pain. I shook my head at the realization that something as big as a baby’s head would be expected to be pushed through an opening the size of my diamond.
My diamond.
After tugging on my skirt, I fished in the hidden pocket. Pulling it from its secure resting place, I held it to my face for inspection. The center prism caught the fluorescent lighting overhead and it exploded into shards of light around the exam room.
A tear fell as I realized he’d never truly proposed to me. I’d gotten a plastic pancake syrup band proposal, which I’d taken as somewhat of a joke at the time, and then given the shock of my life when he shoved a diamond on my hand on stage in front of a hundred people.
He never asked me to marry him that night. He announced it into the microphone.
Now, almost four months later, my hand weighed heavy with a diamond as my mind weighed heavy with a question.
Would we even make it to the altar?
***
