Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 810(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Nicole wiggled around in her seat and clasped her hands together in eager anticipation. I’d made her wait for the news because I knew she’d be dragging me to every shopping center in a fifty-mile radius once I told her.
“Oh my God,” she squeaked. “It’s a boy, isn’t it? I just know it’s a boy.”
I kept my expression flat, giving nothing away. How the hell did she know that?
“I read online that if you’re carrying low, it’s a boy.”
I knew that was an old wives’ tale. Still, I looked down at my belly and frowned. “How can you tell?”
“I don’t really know,” Nicole admitted. “But once I read it I thought it looked that way to me. Or maybe I just really want it to be a boy.”
“Well, then I guess you’ll be happy to know you’ve gotten your way?”
She clapped her hands over her mouth and then smacked Matt in the chest. He grinned.
“Seriously?” she gasped. “It’s a boy. Oh my God. We have to go shopping.”
Point made.
“Yes, Nicole.” I rolled my eyes. “We’ll have to go shopping. Maybe next week.”
“Tomorrow,” she insisted. “I can’t wait any longer.”
Matt gave me a shrug that said everything I needed to know. Just like Ryland, Nicole was used to getting her way.
“Alright,” I relented. “Tomorrow it is then.”
***
During the course of our time apart, I realized that I’d missed Ryland’s birthday. I felt horrible about it, especially when I learned that it was the night he came over to my apartment. The night he discovered I’d hidden the baby from him.
When I brought it up with Nicole, she told me he hadn’t done anything for his birthday for the last six years. It broke my heart. Ryland gave me anything I wanted without blinking an eye, and he never made me feel guilty for it. He insisted that his money was mine, and I shouldn’t have any qualms about spending it.
It still felt weird though, and I didn’t like to go overboard on things. In a way, I was grateful that he was so involved in the whole process. We didn’t buy anything- whether it was car seats or baby toys- until he’d looked at all the safety specs first. Again, it was just another one of his freakishly adorable traits.
But when it came to his birthday present, I had no idea what to get him. Buying something at a store- with his money no less- felt cheap. So over the last two weeks, I’d worked on something else. Something that came from the heart. I had no idea if he was going to like it or not, but I’d compiled everything I could think of into a scrapbook of our time together. There were quotes and lyrics that reminded me of him or things he’d said to me during our time together that I wanted to remember. I’d written him little notes about some of the good memories I had and told him about the first pregnancy moments I’d experienced without him. I wanted him to be a part of it, all of it, and to know how much I loved him.
I’d been sneaking photos of him at every opportunity I got, and even some photos of us together. He was surprisingly okay with that, and it usually led to him sneaking photos of me for his own private stash. When I’d found that he actually printed off a candid photo of me and placed it on his desk beside his growing collection, we had another memory to add to his office that afternoon.
Now I was at the apartment, prepared to finally give him the present I’d worked so hard on. I’d spent the entire afternoon attempting to cook him a nice dinner, and nothing was going to plan. By the time he came in, I was covered in flour and frustration. My roast had burnt, and my chocolate cake was under cooked.
I was going to be a terrible mother.
“Brighton?” he shot me a questioning glance when he saw the mess around me.
Suddenly, it wasn’t just his birthday that I’d ruined, it was a whole lot of other things. I was a big fat failure, and I was terrified for my poor baby. Tears welled in my eyes, and I tried to shoo him away. He didn’t leave of course. He strode right over and pulled me against his chest, no concern whatsoever that I was getting his clothes dirty.
He gripped my chin and tilted, his blue eyes searching mine.
“What’s the matter, baby girl?”
“I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” I blurted. “Moms are supposed to be able to cook for their children. I can’t even do it for you.”
He laughed and gave me a little squeeze, pressing a tender kiss against my temple. Then he grabbed my hand and led me to the sofa, gesturing for me to sit. I watched him unbutton his collar and roll up his sleeves before he sat down beside me and pulled me into his lap.