Home > Find Me (The Found Duet #2)(68)

Find Me (The Found Duet #2)(68)
Author: Laurelin Paige

“Exactly.”

Still, even though she had good points, it was easy to get caught up in doubt. “Would you…” I paused, wondering if my question was too insensitive. I decided I didn’t care. “Would you still be happy with Hudson if you couldn’t have kids?”

“Yes. Very. We didn’t even discuss having them until our wedding. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be devastated if we can’t have kids, but Hudson is all I ever really needed.” She furrowed her brow. “Huh. I should tell him that sometime.”

“You should.” I put my hand over hers. “And thank you. I needed this.” I stood up and crossed around her to get more Kleenex to blow my nose. After I’d tossed the tissue, I turned back to her, embarrassed now about my outburst. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so emotional lately. Wedding jitters, I guess.”

“Or you’re pregnant.”

“God, you’re such a twunt.”

Though Laynie’s pep talk had alleviated almost all of my anxiety about the possibility of children in the future, her teasing had made me paranoid about now. So later, in the bathroom, I found one of her pregnancy tests from under the sink. I followed the instructions, and then checked my watch to begin the three-minute countdown.

The results came up in half that time—pregnant.

Chapter Sixteen

I didn’t say anything to Alayna about the pregnancy test. It didn’t seem fair to talk to her before JC, and as much as I was at a loss as to what I’d say, I was very eager to have that conversation. I was a mess with worry and panic, and the last time I’d felt that way—when Ben had tried to kill himself—it was JC who had calmed me.

I needed that now. Needed him to center me in the way that only he could.

When I got to the condo, I paused outside JC’s office door. I could see him through the French doors, on the phone, one leg bent to rest his foot on his desk. He was so much like a big kid himself, and now he was going to have one of his own.

Yup, I felt sick. I was pretty sure it wasn’t the morning sickness variety of nausea, but it was still a symptom of my pregnancy.

I took several deep breaths and then went in.

JC looked up at me and smiled, but then went back to focusing on his computer screen and talking “delivery dates” and “production costs” on the phone. When I’d texted him that I was leaving Alayna’s, he’d told me to stop by his office when I got home to let him know I’d made it safely. He probably expected that was all I was doing now, and that I’d slip out again to unpack some more boxes.

So when I stayed and took a seat on the office couch to wait for him, he could tell something was up.

As soon as I sat, his eyes darted back to me and remained there. He sat up, putting his feet on the floor. “Uh huh,” he said on the phone a couple of times. Then, finally, “Hey, Hiroko, can I call you back? Something’s come up here.” He was standing up before he’d finished talking, coming over to me.

When he reached me, he threw the phone on the couch and knelt in front of me, placing his hands on my knees. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head for several long seconds, my throat tight and my words missing. There wasn’t really anything that needed to be said, though, except, “I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

It was obvious he’d heard me and that his response was based in shock and not needing clarification. But I clarified anyway. “I took a test at Alayna’s, and it was positive. Pregnant.”

I saw it—the flash of excitement before he put on an unreadable mask. He moved to sit next to me, and for the second time that night, someone wrapped an arm around my shoulder and laid a hand on my knee.

“How do you feel about this?” His tone wasn’t nearly as tentative as mine had been when I’d told him.

“I don’t know.” I wanted to say more, but I’d seen that moment where he’d been happy, and it felt shitty to take it away.

But I wasn’t taking it away, I realized. He was putting it away so that I would be honest with him, and so I owed that to him. “I thought I’d have longer to figure this out,” I said, tears brimming again. “It’s not that I hate the idea of children, you know? I like them well enough. I think. I haven’t been around them much. Just. I don’t even water plants. If I can’t keep a simple philodendron alive, how the hell am I going to take care of something that’s actually important?”

JC pulled me into his shoulder and kissed my head. “Plants don’t talk.”

“Neither do babies!” My words were muffled in his shirt but understandable.

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