“You’re going to be the best dad in the entire world.”
Lincoln kisses my forehead again. “And you’re going to be the best mom.”
Holy crap, I’m going to be a mom.
“That was crazy,
right? I’m still in shock,” Lincoln muses, pulling into my driveway.
We left the doctor’s office ten minutes ago, and he hasn’t stopped talking about the ultrasound and hearing the baby’s heartbeat. I love his enthusiasm, and I’m just as excited, but I need him to calm down because I have a few things I’d like to say.
“Would you like to come in and we can talk about it?”
Lincoln looks down at his watch, and I realize he likely changed his schedule around to take me to the doctor’s office. He might have other plans this evening. My stomach drops, and I shake my head.
“If you can’t, I understand.”
“I can. Just let me make a phone call first, and I’ll be right in,” he says.
“Okay.”
I slide from the car and walk to the front door, wondering who he has to call and realizing at the same time that I lost the privilege of getting to know. With a heavy sigh, I open the front door and drop my purse on the couch.
Hands on my hips, I stare at the small space I call home. It isn’t much, but it’s cozy and warm, and it’s in a good neighborhood. It also has a small yard that’ll be perfect for a toddler. A family would grow out of this place in a few years, but it’s a great starter home for us.
If that’s what Lincoln has decided he wants.
The front door shuts, and I spin around. Lincoln’s hands are tucked in his pockets, and he’s watching me.
“Did you get everything taken care of?” I ask.
“Yup.”
He offers nothing more, and I don’t ask, because it’s still not my business.
Not yet at least.
“Come here,” I tell him. “I want to show you something.”
Lincoln kicks off his boots and follows me to the back bedroom. For the last four years, it’s been my makeshift office. But not anymore.
I push the door open and let Lincoln walk in ahead of me. I follow behind him and try to see the room through his eyes. The once-packed space is empty, except for a plastic drape laid out across the floor, three cans of paint, and all the tools I’ll need to transform the room.
“Where’d your desk go?” he asks.
“I took it apart and moved it.”
“What do you mean?” His voice is firm and a little cold, and I take a step back.
“Exactly what I said.”
“Adley, that was a solid-wood desk. It was heavy.”
“So?”
“So?” Lincoln shakes his head and turns to me. “You’re pregnant, Adley. You shouldn’t be lifting anything that heavy.”
I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t bad. I took it apart first, so I moved it in pieces. It’s not like I lifted the whole thing at once.”