She shoved up to her feet at the same time that she blurted out, "I'm pregnant."
Her eyes were on his face as she spoke, searching for signs of terror with the same minute inspection with which astronomers study the stars. But she saw nothing amiss. No terror. No disappointment.
All she saw was joy. Well, joy laced with a hint of confusion.
"Baby, that's amazing." He pulled her down to him and cradled her on his lap. "Are you sure? It hasn't been that long, and I thought those tests didn't register until--"
"The doctor drew blood. I'm not far along, but there's no doubt."
"Wow," he said, then pressed a hand against her belly. "How long have you known? You should have called me. I would have met you at the doctor's. There are so many questions--do I need to get you something from the store? Pickles?"
She laughed out loud, the tightness that had begun to build in her chest lessening a bit. "No cravings yet. But when I do, I'll tell you." Assuming you'll really still be here.
The thought came unbidden, and she could tell that he saw the reflection of it on her face.
"There is something wrong," he said. "Is it the baby? Could they even know this early? Is that why you didn't call me before? Because if there's something wrong, we'll handle it together."
She noticed that he didn't ask if it was his, and his certainty that she'd been with no one else--even back in LA--warmed her. They fit, dammit. The two of them were a perfect match, like a lock and key.
But if that was true, why was it so hard to talk to him right now?
"There's nothing wrong. And I spent the day thinking. I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away, but I needed time to think."
"It's okay. I get it."
"What you said just now, about handling it together. That's kind of what I want to talk to you about."
He nodded, urging her on, but the words wouldn't come.
"Oh, baby." He took her hands. "Tell me."
"I'm scared." The words weren't even quite a whisper.
"Hey, it's okay. There's nothing to be scared of. Women have been having babies forever."
She almost laughed at that. "True, but that's not what I'm scared of
." She drew a deep breath for courage. "I don't want to be my mother. A single mom." She closed her eyes, drawing strength from the next few beats of her heart. "That's not who I am."
Reece's brow furrowed, and his eyes grew hard. "Your mom was alone," he said warily. "But I'll be with you. Right by your side. Whatever you need. Whatever the baby needs. It's us, right? And we're a team."
"A team," she repeated. The word seemed flat.
"A couple then. Or, a trio now. Right?"
She heard the note of urgency in his voice and wanted to reach out and soothe him. She couldn't think straight when she was around Reece, but she had to think straight. She had to because now she was thinking for both her and the baby.
And she'd had all day to think about what she was doing. All day alone in this apartment, pacing and walking and searching her conscience.
He might not like it, but she believed in the path she'd chosen. The only question now was whether or not they'd walk that path together.
"Dammit, Jen. Talk to me."
"I know I'm shifting things around on you without any warning. But this little peanut hit me without any warning, either." She stood up, placing her hand on her belly, and sighed. Here was her strength. No matter what--more than herself, more than Reece--she had to think about what was best for the baby. And that's what she was doing now. For hours and hours, that was all she'd thought about.
But thinking was the easy part. Telling Reece--making him understand too--was the challenge. And one she was terrified he couldn't meet.
"I want ... I used to imagine coming home after school. My mom gardening. My dad fixing a car. I never had that--I want my child to have it."