TAKE TWO_ Who says you can't ma - Heather M. Orgeron Page 0,69
just have this gut feeling it’s going to be a girl. Call it mother’s intuition. Or it’s possible my defiant ass just wants to be right and for Liam to be wrong. Because I don’t win often, and dammit… it feels good when I do. Whatever the reason, I’m team pink all the way.
With a groan I wrestle into my favorite pair of dark gray skinny jeans that I can no longer fasten. I take a hair tie and pass it around the button and loop it through the hole to secure them. I’m still putting off shopping for maternity clothes, although I don’t know how much longer I can make my wardrobe work. I’ll be walking around in Liam’s slut pants and white tees before long.
I glide a hand over the shirts hanging in my closet, stopping when I reach the pink section. This’ll do just fine. I yank a rose-colored cashmere sweater off the hanger. It’s giving me all the baby girl vibes.
After applying a light layer of makeup, I braid my long locks to the side, draping it to the front of my shoulder the way Liam likes. Then I glance down at my phone and check the time, 1:30 p.m.
He should be home from his errand by now. My appointment is in an hour. I hate to be a nagging wife, but I despise being late even more, so I pluck my cell off the counter and shoot him a quick message.
Nya: Are you almost home?
Ten minutes pass and he doesn’t answer. I try to busy myself reorganizing my bathroom cabinet. Then, I head downstairs and put a load of laundry in the washer and sweep the kitchen floor. Another fifteen minutes zoom by without a response, and my pulse soars.
Nya: Earth to Liam? Where are you? If you’re not home in ten minutes just meet me there. I don’t want to be late.
Those ten minutes…they feel like an eternity as I stare at my phone willing a message to come through. I make a final attempt to reach him, trying not to overreact, as I have a tendency to do. I’m really making an effort not to be so hot-headed this time around.
“You have reached Liam Watts. I can’t get to the phone right now. Please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”
I roll my eyes at the tone of his “business” voice. So prim and proper. Then, I roll them again because—well, I’m just pissed off. He never sends me to voicemail.
“It’s me… your wife… remember her? The one you were supposed to pick up half an hour ago. Well, I’m off to find out the sex of our baby. Appointment’s at two thirty, in case you care to show up.”
I curse him under my breath the entire way to Dr. Bing’s office, all the while fighting back tears. I don’t want to do this alone. I would have asked Hannah if I’d thought for a minute he wouldn’t show.
Then I switch gears, and I’m worried. What if something happened to him? Guilt rises in my throat for all of the mean thoughts I’ve been having. If he’s hurt or worse, I’m going straight to hell.
I stare at my phone on the elevator ride up to the fourth floor.
After checking in with the secretary, I sit in the waiting room filled with other pregnant women. All of them are accompanied by their spouses or mothers. I’m literally the only one here alone, which just has me feeling even sorrier for myself. Where is he?
At two-thirty on the nose, Veronica peeks her perky little head out into the waiting room. When her eyes find mine, her face splits into a huge smile. “Ready, Mrs. Watts?”
I swallow a lump, making one final glance at the door, hoping to see Liam rushing in at the last minute. When that doesn’t happen, my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat, and a stupid lone tear sneaks its way down my cheek. I swat it away with the back of my hand, steeling my resolve. “I’m ready.”
Veronica is extra sweet, no doubt sensing something is up. She never asks about Liam, and I know she hasn’t forgotten him. How the hell could she, with the way he behaved during the last ultrasound? She’s just got great intuition.
“All right, honey, lay back on the pillow. Lift your shirt and lower your pants for me.”