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“Sorry.” The technician screwed up her face. She took up the wand part of the machine. “Ready?” She waited for their verbal replies before running the wand through the gel. “Let’s take a peek at this baby.”
Sofia had little idea of what to expect. She’d seen this scene in movies before, but it all felt strange and different in real life. She was staring at the screen, not daring to blink, but didn’t see anything on it. Then a knocking noise started, regular and insistent. “What’s—” Sofia, about to ask what the taps were, cut herself off. She’d figured it out, even if she couldn’t quite seem to believe it. “Ian?”
He was there, by her side, holding her hand tightly, nodding to show he understood. That they were hearing the baby’s heartbeat.
“That’s nice and strong.” Sherilyn looked pleased. “Let’s see what we can see, hmm?”
She adjusted something on the machine, or the monitor, Sofia didn’t know, and the screen lightened, with a darker patch in the middle. Sherilyn grabbed the mouse in her free hand and moved a cursor around the tiny shape. “That’s the baby,” she said, a grin on her face when she turned to them. “It usually catches first-timers out. Eight weeks along, right? Good size.”
Sofia thought she might have nodded in confirmation, but her entire attention was given to the small image. “Our baby,” she whispered to Ian, who clutched her hand tighter, his eyes on the screen too and his face as pale as she would bet hers was. “It looks…well, like a peanut. Sorry.”
“I’ve heard it all,” Sherilyn assured her. “What it looks like to me is perfectly fine. Thriving. You’ll be wanting a printout?”
“Yes,” Ian said, before Sofia could reply. He was the one to take the tissue offered and wipe her stomach free of the gel after, for which Sofia was glad—her hands were shaking to the point where she doubted she’d be able to do it properly. She kept staring at the monitor, even after it was turned off, and didn’t remember much of thanking the technician and leaving. It almost felt like she was sleepwalking when she found herself outside in the corridor with Ian. At least she was allowed out on her own two feet now.
“Well.” Sofia looked down at her feet in their ratty old sneakers. She’d been meaning to throw them away but was glad she’d found them and tugged them on. She was grateful for Ian’s coat, covering her pajamas, too.
“Well,” Ian echoed, his voice as muted as hers. He didn’t seem to know what to say after that either.
“I want—” Sofia said at the same time as Ian said, “I’m glad—” and they both stopped.
“Go ahead,” Ian urged.
Sofia shrugged. “I was just going to say I want to thank you for coming, that I’m glad you were here.”
“And I was going to say I’m glad I was here,” Ian replied.
“Jinx,” Sofia couldn’t resist commenting, and Ian’s startled expression made her laugh, which made Ian laugh too.
“Let’s go.” Ian put a hand to the small of her back, guiding her to the elevator and first floor. The signage seemed to catch his eye. “You know,” he said, “I never did buy you that drink that night.”
“Um, if it’s all the same to you, I’ll pass again. I don’t think I should be drinking IPA right now,” Sofia deadpanned.
Ian looked taken aback for a second, then chuckled. “I wasn’t offering you beer so much as breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” Sofia repeated, and a grin split Ian’s face.
“Sure, why not? It’s breakfast time, almost, and this hospital has the best menu of any in the County of San Diego…” He indicated the short corridor leading to the cafeteria and crooked his arm in invitation.
“You’re making that up!” Sofia challenged, but she didn’t argue against the suggestion. She was thirsty, and a little hungry. Racing to the hospital in the middle of the night would do that, she supposed. “But I’m delighted to accept your invite, kind sir.” She looped her hand through his arm.
“Does it remind you of school?” Ian asked, looking at the long self-service counter and the stack of trays in the cafeteria.
“Um, smells better.” Sofia grinned. “I’m not joking—can’t you smell that crispy bacon?” She hurried him to the counter.
They were lucky—the breakfast items were just being set out, and the bacon looked as good as it smelled. Sofia chose scrambled eggs and toast to go with it, then noticed Ian had selected a bowl of cereal and a small plate of fruit. “Oh, I should have guessed. You’re a healthy eater, and now I feel guilty.” She pouted.
“I’m not that healthy,” Ian replied, forking waffles onto another plate and tipping syrup onto them. “There. Better?”
“Much,” Sofia told him, selecting a glass of fresh orange juice. “And don’t think I’m sharing this bacon.”
As it turned out, it was Ian who shared his waffles with her, tempting her by cutting a corner of one and waving it near her lips, until she opened her mouth and pulled the golden square off the fork. “Oh, that’s good,” she praised. “But an unwise move, Mr. Campbell—don’t think I won’t be back for more now!”
“Why do you think I got so many, Ms. Popov?” he replied.
Sofia almost felt like they were back in the bar, on the evening they’d met, talking and laughing. The chemistry between them palpable. This could have been their next date, them out for a meal, sitting like this in the window of a restaurant or café. But things weren’t exactly like that, she reminded herself, especially when she realized the envelope Ian had laid carefully on the table contained the printout of the scan.
“About this.” She jerked her chin at the envelope. She paused. She didn’t want to ask the question that was trembling on her lips, any more than she wanted to know his answer to it…but a part of her absolutely needed to know. “Are you really okay with everything?”
