Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I move to one of the guest chairs and prop an ankle on the opposite knee. We’re silent as Kiera shrugs into a robe that ties on the side. She starts to move past toward the table, but I grab her hand, tugging her to me.
She doesn’t fight me but allows me to drag her onto my lap where I hold her loosely. Placing my chin on her shoulder, I ask, “You nervous?”
“Little bit.”
“Shit’s getting real,” I murmur.
“So real,” she agrees quietly and tilts her head to rest against mine.
That’s how Dr. Segal finds us when he knocks on the door and walks in. He’s a short man, probably in his late fifties but incredibly fit looking. He’s got dark curly hair with a bit of gray sparsely mixed throughout. A pair of black-framed glasses perch on the end of his nose and his smile is easygoing.
“Ms. McGinn… it’s good to see you again.”
“You too, Dr. Segal.” Kiera stands from my lap and I stand along with her, holding my hand out.
As we shake, I introduce myself. “Bain Hillridge.”
“Nice to meet—” Dr. Segal jolts and his eyes narrow at me, trying to see past the ball cap. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to cross paths with a Titan today. Great game last night.”
“Thanks,” I say, and I expect him to want to talk about it or even get a picture. Instead, he turns and gives all his attention to Kiera.
“Go ahead and hop up on the table,” he says, moving to the sink to wash his hands.
I move to Kiera’s side as she lays back. Dr. Segal moves to the end and locks out the stirrups. “Slide down a bit more,” he says as he sits on a stool and rolls right on up between my girl’s legs.
I have a moment of distinct discomfort and my hands fist, but I take in Dr. Segal’s clinical expression as he doesn’t even look at her there yet. Instead, he pulls the ultrasound machine over and explains the test.
He shows Kiera the ultrasound wand and then covers it with a medical condom and lube. It’s thin, the end a little bulbous, but it’s quite long.
Way longer than my dick.
I take her hand and she squeezes as the doctor inserts it into her vagina. I wince but Kiera doesn’t even flinch.
She’s a stoic person, though, so I ask the doctor, “Does that hurt her?”
“It doesn’t,” Kiera said, her head tilted to look up at me. “Weird, but not painful.”
Dr. Segal uses his free hand to press down on her lower belly a little and then makes an adjustment on the computer. He rotates the wand and the screen is filled with a gray, hazy static that looks exactly like nothing.
But then I see it. Just briefly… a large black circle, then it’s gone.
Then it’s back again, much clearer.
“That’s the gestational sack,” Dr. Segal says, and my heart hammers in my chest. “And that small gray area is the yolk sac.”
It’s so small, no bigger than a bean. “And that’s our baby?” I ask incredulously.
“Sure is. Let’s listen to the heartbeat.” Dr. Segal taps a few keys and then the room is filled with a fast, rhythmic pattering.
I glance at Kiera. Her eyes are as round as saucers and I know mine look no different.
“Why’s it so fast?” Kiera asks the doctor.
“The fetal heart rate at this stage can be between 100 and 180 beats per minute.”
“It’s like a hummingbird’s wings,” Kiera says in awe and emotion clogs my throat. That’s the perfect way to describe it.
I lean over and brush my lips over her forehead. I’ve never felt closer to a human being in my life and it’s all due to the miracle flickering on the computer screen. That’s both me and Kiera, thriving against all odds.
It’s pure magic.
“I’d say date of conception was around January 1, which means your due date will be September 24. Although it could be a few days before or a few days after.”
“Holy shit,” I wheeze. That’s this year. Just months away.
Dr. Segal grins at me, then Kiera. “Congratulations.”
We walk out of the doctors’ office hand in hand with a picture of the ultrasound in Kiera’s purse. I already snapped it with my phone as we were checking out and sent it to my parents and brother.
“What do you think about grabbing a few nights’ worth of clothes and come stay at my place?” I ask.
Kiera’s been to my place before and she’s stayed the night, but we mostly have settled into a routine at her house.
“Sure,” she says because she’s easygoing that way.
“It’s closer to the arena and we have a game tomorrow, then the memorial the day after, which will be there. Save us some driving.”
“That it would.”
We play the Denver Blue Devils tomorrow and then the day after that is the twentieth—the first anniversary of the crash. A remembrance celebration has been planned at the arena. It’s a given that Kiera and I will go together after we talked about it earlier this week.