Page 214 of Josephine and Clay

“There’s really two.”

“Yes.”

“Right there.”

“Right there.”

He stares at the image for another long moment, then presses his thumb lightly against the edge of the phone, nowhere near the screen, careful not to smudge anything that doesn’t exist.

“I missed this.”

The ache in his voice makes my throat tighten.

“You didn’t know.”

“No, but you did.” He looks over at me. “You went through this without me.”

I fold my hands in my lap because I don’t know what to do with them. “I didn’t know how to tell you. Then you were hurt, and everything with your family felt complicated, and every time I almost said it, you were already halfway out the door emotionally.”

Clay takes that in without defending himself.

“I made it hard,” he says.

“You made it confusing.”

He nods slowly, gaze dropping back to the ultrasound. “That too.”

The swing shifts faintly beneath us when he adjusts his leg.

“I want to come to the next appointment,” he says.

My heart gives an unhelpful little twist. “It’s in two weeks.”

“I’ll be there.” He coughs awkwardly. “Boone’s gonna be unbearable.”

“About what?”

“Advice. All of it. He’ll start with diapers, somehow end at property taxes, and make both sound equally urgent.”

I smile. “Dallas?”

“Quietly practical. Probably already knows which car seat has the best safety rating and where to get it cheaper.”

“Nash?”

Clay’s smile widens. “Nash will buy them tiny cowboy hats and teach them something dangerous before they can walk.”

I shake my head, but the image forms before I can stop it: two little babies on this ranch, surrounded by cousins, aunties, uncles, Maggie, Rusty stealing snacks from their tiny hands.

A full life, not the tightly controlled version I'd been planning because I thought it was my only option.

Clay looks over and seems to read enough of my face to quiet his smile. “What scared you just then?”

The denial arrives automatically.

Instead, I breathe through it. “I pictured them here.”

His gaze softens. “And that scared you?”