Chapter 21
Bennett
"I'll be back in about an hour," I tell Andrew as I walk out of my office. The phone starts to ring in my hand as I walk to the door. “Hello," I say after four rings, not even checking who it is.
"So I take it you’re alive," Travis jokes to me as I chuckle, pushing open the office’s front door and stepping out into the sunshine. The heat hits me right away as the sun burns down on me, making me shrug off my suit jacket.
"I'm alive," I assure him as I unlock the car door and get in, starting it right away. I toss my suit jacket on the passenger seat, the Bluetooth connecting right away, so I put my phone in the cupholder.
"It's been two weeks," he says, and I put my head back on the seat and close my eyes.
It's been sixteen days, to be exact, but who is counting? I almost say. “I know. I've been swamped with work," I huff. The only saving grace to all of this is that I'm in the middle of the biggest merger of my life. Two of the biggest tech companies are merging, and it's been all hands on deck since they came to us. It's a once-in-a-lifetime deal, and even though I spent over eight hours at the office, and I got home bone-dead tired, I still hated walking into my house. I didn't go anywhere but the bedroom. I sleep for a max of five hours, sometimes less, and when I'm done tossing and turning, I get up and just head to the office.
"I figured," he huffs. "I know this is weird, but we are having a birthday party for Charlotte, and Harlow said if you don't come, she's going to send her father to get you with his gun."
I can't help but laugh at that picture. “I'm not the one he wants to shoot." I make the joke, but the thought of going to the birthday party makes my stomach burn.
"Hey," he snaps. “He is starting to like me a bit more every day." He chuckles.
"Is that what you keep telling yourself?" I tap the steering wheel nervously, trying to think of an excuse.
"Is this your way of telling me you are trying to change the subject?" he comes back at me. I should have known he would see through the deflect.
"And here I was thinking I was so savvy." I laugh. “Will you take a maybe?" I finally say.
"Do I have a choice?" He chuckles.
"Why don't you ask Presley first and see how she feels? The last thing I want is for her to be uncomfortable." I close my eyes just saying her name. The ache in my chest is almost as strong as when I told her I loved her, which, according to Google and the article How to Heal a Broken Heart, I should already be learning to live with it. I also should point out that I'm still at step one, which is take time to grieve.
"You're a good, good man, Bennett," Travis says.
"Glad at least one of us thinks so," I say and pull out of the parking lot. My stomach fills with knots, knowing that in less than thirty minutes, I'm going to see her. "Let me know."
"Will do," he says. “Call you later." He disconnects.
I make my way over to the doctor's office, the whole time wondering if maybe I should get her something to drink or something to eat. I decide against it because I don't want her to feel like I'm overstepping. When I pull into the parking lot, I look around for her car, but I don't see it. I think about waiting in my car for her, but then I think it might make me look like I'm creeping on her. Getting out of the car, I put the phone in my front pocket while I roll up the sleeves to my white button-down shirt.
I run my hand through my hair when I step into the doctor's office. My eyes scan the room, and I see there is one person there sitting and reading a magazine. The receptionist looks up from her desk and smiles at me. “May I help you?"
"I'm meeting Presley Baker here,” I explain, looking at my watch and seeing that I'm ten minutes early.
"She hasn't arrived yet." She smiles at me. “If you would like to take a seat and wait for her."
"Thank you," I say, nodding to her. Walking over to one of the waiting room chairs, I take the phone out of my pocket and sit down. I put my left ankle on my right knee, pulling up her name on my text.
The last time I texted her was Saturday, and it was just to check in and see if she was okay. She responded a couple of hours later, telling me that she was fine. That was it. Luckily, I was in the office, and I had people around, so I couldn't dwell on it, but I'd be lying if I said that I didn't want to text her every day to ask her if she was okay. The worst thing with all of this is that she was also one of my best friends. I text her, my hand getting sweaty as I type the message.
Me: I'm here.
I exhale a deep breath, and the phone vibrates in my hand, and I see it's her.
Gorgeous: On my way!
I open Instagram on my phone, scrolling through while the food in my stomach starts to move around nervously. My body is on full alert for her. The door opens, and I look up, and everything in me almost does a sigh of relief when I see her. She takes off her sunglasses and looks around the room at me. I smile tightly at her, my cock already springing to action like he's going to be reunited with his best friend. She holds up her hand in a wave at me, walking over to the receptionist. Her black hair is perfectly styled and loose, her short, ruffle-sleeved, light pink one-piece dress she is wearing flows around her and reaches almost to her knees. The sash at her waist is tied on the side, and she is wearing a gold watch on one wrist and gold bracelets on the other. My eyes roam down to her heels that are sky high, and all that I can think of is man, she's fucking gorgeous.
She speaks to the receptionist, and I try to calm my breathing and my heart down. I would be lying to myself if I said I wasn't waiting for this moment for the past two days. I played it out over and over in my head. The plan was to be nonchalant with her. Play it cool and calm. Meanwhile, inside was frenzied and flustered. She turns around and comes my way, and I see that her blue eyes are darker than they usually are. I get up and stop myself before I'm about to lean over and kiss her cheek. “Hey," I greet, waiting for her to sit down before I sit back down.
"Hi," she says, putting her purse on her lap and crossing her legs. “Did you get here when you texted, or were you waiting long?" She turns to look at me, and I see her hands shaking a bit. I wonder if she is as nervous as I am.
"No." I shake my head. “Just when I texted." She nods at me, and it's the most awkward conversation we've ever had. “How are you doing?" I almost groan inwardly about how cringy that sounds.
"I'm doing good," she says, and the nurse saves us by calling her name. Presley gets up, and I follow her to the doctor's office.
"How are we feeling?" the nurse asks her while she waits for us to walk into the room and follows us in.
"Good,” Presley confirms. “A bit tired." My neck tingles when I hear this. Is she not sleeping properly? Is she still having morning sickness? Is she eating properly? "I think it's mostly I was bored staying home." This is brand-new information to me as I thought she was working.
"It's totally normal. Your body is going through lots of changes," the nurse says. “If you want to change into the gown"—she points at the hospital gown on the examining table—“I'll be back to take your vitals."
I look around the room, seeing that there is no room for her to change. There is a desk in the corner with a computer on it, an exam table, and an ultrasound machine. "I'm going to wait outside while you change." My mouth goes dry as I picture her naked.
"I'll call you when I'm done," she says, not looking at me, and I see her blinking really fast. I pull open the door and step out into the hallway. I put my head on the brown door, closing my eyes and trying to tell myself that it's Presley, and no matter what happens, it's still just us.
"I'm done," she announces, and I open the door, stepping back into the room in time to see her hop onto the exam table. Her hands shake, and when I look at her, her eyes look like she has been crying. I'm about to ask her if everything is okay, but the doctor comes in.
I move to the side, uncertain of where to even stand. I hate this. I hate that we have become these two people who used to talk about everything and nothing, and now can't even say five words to each other without it being awkward.
"Afternoon," the doctor says, walking over to the table in the corner. She moves the mouse as the computer turns on, and she starts to read the notes. “So I see you went to the emergency room for bleeding?" she asks, looking over at Presley, who just nods at her. She raises her hand to the corner of her eye as she wipes away a tear. I put my hand in my pocket, my stomach filling with knots. "How has it been since?"
"I've been fine since. No blood," she answers the doctor.
"Is there a reason she was bleeding?" I ask the doctor, and she smiles sadly and shrugs her shoulders.
"It could be from a bunch of reasons or no reason at all," she states, turning to look over at the chart. “The good news is that it stopped, and I see that they heard the heartbeat." Presley smiles now when the doctor mentions the heartbeat, and it's a smile that lights up her whole face. It's a smile that makes me smile. “Okay, let's see what's going on in there."
Presley lies back on the table, and I move to the side of her but stay far enough away to not intrude on her space. I can see the doctor move the hospital gown up, and I force myself not to look at her. "This will be cold," the doctor says as she grabs the white bottle and then squeezes the gel on Presley’s stomach.
She grabs the handpiece, picking it up and moving it around Presley's stomach. There in the middle of the screen, I see the baby. "There is the baby," she says, and I can't help but smile as I look down at Presley, who has one hand over her head and the other hand holding the hospital gown up in the middle of her chest. She isn't just smiling. She is beaming as she watches our child float around, going side to side.
"It's so strange that I can't feel any of that movement," she says softly.
"It usually happens at around eighteen to twenty weeks depending," the doctor says as she clicks buttons on the machine. She moves up and down on her stomach, side to side, and then she presses a button, and you hear the sound of swishing now. “That's a strong heartbeat. One hundred and forty-two beats a minute." She presses more buttons, and the machine spits out something.
"Is that a normal heartbeat?" I ask. “Or is it too high?"
"It varies from one hundred and ten to one hundred and sixty, depending on the child," she answers me.
She takes the wand off Presley, wiping off her stomach and then the machine before she turns the lights back on. Presley sits up now, letting her gown fall down. “Here are some more pictures." She hands them to Presley, who just looks down at them. “Do you have any questions for me?" the doctor says, rolling back to the desk and typing things in.
"I have a question." I hold up my hand as if I'm in school and take out my phone.
"Yeah, you can still have sex." The doctor laughs, and I chuckle nervously at that comment.
"That wasn't the question, but good to know." I nod at her and look over at Presley, who just rolls her lips. "I was reading online that with the bleeding, the pregnancy could be a high risk?"
"From what I see, I don't think so,” the doctor says. “But it's still too early to tell. My advice is to listen to your body." She turns to look at Presley. “If your body is saying you are tired, sit down and rest. If you have all the energy and want to take a walk, then do that."
"Good to know,” Presley says, putting her hand on her stomach. “I've been staying off my feet ever since the hospital, only going in to work twice a week but mainly just sitting."
"You are doing everything you need to do." The doctor gets up. “I'll see you in a month, and if you have any questions, you can call me." She walks out of the room, and I look back at Presley.
"Are you okay?” I ask, and she nods her head.
"It's still crazy that the baby moves so much, and I don't even feel anything." She laughs. “Even if I put my hand on my stomach, I don't even feel a flutter." She gets down off the exam table. “Here you go." She hands me the pictures. Our fingers graze each other, and it tingles all up my arm. I look at her to see if she is as affected as I am. But she turns away just as quickly. “You can look at them while I change."