Chapter Sixty-Two
Brooklyn
The morning feels different. Kinder. Softer. Like the world finally stopped spinning so fast and let me breathe for a second.
Jackson leaves for a quick shift meeting, and the second the door closes behind him, I feel this warm little glow in my chest. I never thought a ruined date night could end the way it did. With me crying in his arms and him saving the whole thing with food his stepmom dropped off and candles he found in a random drawer. With us kissing like we actually believe in us again.
And now today everything just feels…good. Real good. Like the beginning of something instead of the end.
I walk around the kitchen, humming to myself while I straighten up. My hand rests on my stomach out of habit. Four months. I still can't believe it sometimes. There's a tiny person growing in there, one who is half Jackson, which is probably why my heart keeps doing backflips every time I think about it.
I look over at the little gift bag sitting on the counter. The one I gave him. I almost chickened out this morning, but the way his face softened when he opened it, the way he pulled me close like he needed me right then, it made every ounce of fear worth it.
He is going to be such a good dad. I already know it. I always knew it. Even when we were not doing great and I was scared of everything, I still knew he’d be the kind of father who shows up. The kind who listens. The kind who carries the whole world for his family if he has to.
And I want to be someone who shows up for him, too.
That thought hits me harder than I expect it to. I want to. I want us. I want our future. I want to actually be a partner to him instead of a shadow of the girl he fell in love with.
So I decide that I need to keep the momentum going. No fear today. No hiding. No apologizing for trying.
I grab my phone and sit on the couch with my legs tucked under me. I start looking up things we talked about earlier. Cribs. Paint samples for the nursery. Dad joke books because he is absolutely going to need one of those, and he will laugh even though he pretends not to.
Then I search for something small I can do tonight. Nothing huge. Nothing risky. Just something that lets him know I am not slipping back into old patterns.
I find the perfect thing. It feels right the moment I see it. Something sweet and simple. Something that shows him I am thinking about him the way he is always thinking about me.
I place the order and set everything up so it will be here later. Then I clean a little, fold some laundry, and make myself a smoothie even though I really just want a giant pretzel. I try to remind myself I need actual nutrients too. I am working on it. One step at a time.
By the time evening rolls around, the thing I ordered arrives. I set it on the coffee table and take a deep breath. I keep telling myself it is not a big deal, but it feels like a big deal to me. Like one more step toward becoming the person I want to be. The mom I want to be. The partner he deserves.
When Jackson walks in the front door, tired but smiling, the second he sees me, my whole chest warms.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey. Come sit for a second. I’ve got something for you.”
His eyebrows lift a little, but he comes to me right away. He sits on the couch beside me, and I hand him the small package.
“What’s this?”
“Just open it.”
He unwraps it and laughs under his breath when he sees what it is. A little framed picture of the first ultrasound. The grainy blob that somehow already looks like our whole future. I added a tiny sticky note on the corner that says We love you.
He stares at it for a long second, then looks at me like I just handed him the world.
“Baby,” he says quietly. “I love it.”
I feel my throat tighten, but in a good way. A warm way.
“I know I already got you the keychain but I wanted you to have something for work. Something that reminds you we’re right here.”
He leans in and kisses me. Slow. Soft. Like he is memorizing the moment.
And I let him. I let myself believe it too. That we are not broken. That we are healing. That the future is something bright instead of something to brace for.
“We’re gonna be good,” he whispers against my mouth.
I nod and rest my forehead on his.
“We already are.”
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