Definite, p.10
Definite, page 10
The GPS on my phone guides me to the spa. The drive is quiet, though not uncomfortably so. Just the sound of the classic rock station on the radio filling the air. I have a million things I should be planning and mentally preparing for, but all I can think about is the fact that I’m going to be a father. That the beautiful girl who quietly claimed my heart is carrying my baby. In just about ten minutes, I get to see my child for the first time, inside of her. It’s fucking out-of-this-world crazy, and beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. I can say that with complete confidence, without even seeing Sprout yet.
My GPS alerts me that I have five more miles just as Journey’s “Faithfully” flows over the air waves. This song, it’s us. Everything is us and this journey we’re on. My hand that’s linked with hers, gives a gentle squeeze. Silently, I vow to love her and this baby faithfully for the rest of my life. “This is us,” I say, nodding toward the radio.
Lauren turns to look at me, a blinding smile on her face. “Yeah, it is,” she agrees.
I drive around to the back of the building, and just like the lady on the phone said, an employee is there waiting for us.
“Ready?” I ask Lauren.
Her smile is blinding as she nods. She doesn’t wait for me to open her door, hopping out and meeting me at the front of the car instead.
“Mr. Lewis?” the lady at the back door asks.
“Yes.” I shake her hand. “This is Lauren.”
“Welcome to the Mommy and Me Spa.” She opens the door and waves us in. “We have a room already set up for you. It’s just the three of us. I’m Mary, the owner.”
“Thank you, Mary, for seeing us on such short notice, and after hours,” Lauren says politely.
“Oh, honey, you’re welcome. This baby is a miracle, something the parents should share, not the media. Go ahead and hop up on the table.”
Lauren does as she’s told while Mary turns her back to us and prepares something on the cart.
“You nervous?” I ask Lauren.
“Excited,” she replies, still wearing a huge smile. “You?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous or excited. Not even before our first sold-out show.”
Her eyes widen and I know she gets it. Over the last year, we’ve talked so much about ourselves. She knows that I lost my shit before and after our first sold-out stadium show. Tossing cookies is common for that type of event, and I feel like I could do it now.
“Okay,” Mary says, turning to face us. “Let’s lift your shirt and we’ll use the Doppler to find the heartbeat before we do the ultrasound. How far along are you, dear?”
“Thirteen weeks,” I answer before Lauren can.
She squeezes my hand and nods, letting Mary know my answer is correct. A sense of pride washes over me.
“Perfect, then we should have no troubles finding it.”
“Finding it?” I ask, trying not to panic. “Why would the baby not have a heartbeat? That’s not a good thing.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Lewis. I didn’t mean to alarm you. Sometimes it’s hard to hear the fetal heartbeat until the mother is further along, but that doesn’t mean anything is wrong. At thirteen weeks it should be a non-issue.”
Trying to calm my shit, I take a deep breath and hold onto Lauren’s hand for dear life. I don’t take my eyes off Mary as she pulls a little wand out and moves it all over Lauren’s belly. I’m just getting ready to ask if something is wrong when a thundering sound flows from the little box. I let it wash over me and imagine trying to beat out the rhythm on my drums. “It’s fast,” I say, not realizing I’ve said the words aloud until Mary responds.
“That’s normal. One hundred and fifty-six beats per minute, strong and healthy.”
“I’m going to need one of those.” I point to the machine in her hand, causing her to laugh.
“We do sell these here.”
“Tristan, I’m sure they’re expensive,” Lauren whispers.
“Ren, I don’t care what it costs. I want to be able to hear that sound every fucking day until Sprout’s here with us.” I mean it. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard before. My heart races, like it knows that’s a part of me inside of her and it needs to catch up.
“We’ll take care of it,” Mary assures me. “Now, would you like to see your baby?”
I nod, unable to speak over the emotions coursing through me: love, fear, fascination, goofy happy. All of it from this woman and the little miracle we created together.
Mary presses a few buttons on the machine next to the bed before turning on what looks like a small flat-screen television. “Lauren, this is going to be cold, but it’ll help with moving the wand around while we look at the baby.”
Lauren nods.
Mary squeezes the goop on her belly, then places the wand directly over it. She’s staring at the screen and hitting buttons, all while moving the wand back and forth, up and down.
“There.” She points to the screen.
My eyes are locked on the image before me. Lauren squeezes my hand and I squeeze back—that’s all I can give her right now. I can’t take my eyes off the screen.
It’s a baby. Our baby.
“Here are the legs,” Mary says happily. “We have an arm here and here.” She types out labels on the screen as she tells us.
“You can see the heart beating,” Lauren says in awe.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Mary asks.
“I don’t know what I expected,” I exclaim, finding my voice. “I mean, her bump is so small, I didn’t think… I mean, I know we’re pregnant, but I didn’t think it would look like a baby,” I confess.
“Definitely a baby,” Mary chuckles. “I’ll be sure to print you plenty of pictures.”
“Are we able to know the sex?” I ask.
“It’s too early to tell just yet. Sometimes we can tell as early as sixteen weeks, though your physician usually schedules a scan around twenty weeks just to be safe.”
“I want one of those too.” I point to the machine.
Mary throws her head back and full-on laughs this time. “Not so sure I can make that happen. These are quite expensive, not something we keep lying around just in case. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been told that before.”
“Where do I buy one?” I don’t think she realizes I’m serious. Why the fuck did Kacen not buy one? They can’t be that expensive.
“Mr. Lewis, if you’re sure that’s what you want, I can give you the name of the company we purchase ours from.”
“Tristan.”
I turn at the sound of her voice. Lauren is smiling at me, tears running down her face. Reaching over, I wipe them with the pad of my thumb.
“You okay?” I ask. I’m a dick for not checking on her sooner, but damn, this is all-consuming.
“I’m perfect.”
Leaning in, I press my lips to hers. I want to say so much, to tell her that I’m glad it’s her I’m going down this road with. That I couldn’t be happier that she’s the one I’ll spend the rest of my life with. But I don’t. Not here.
“You can wipe up with this.” Mary hands Lauren some paper towels. “Give me a few minutes to get your pictures printed and your video.”
“Video?” I ask.
“Yes, we record the session and place it on a CD for you to take home.”
I nod. “And the heartbeat thing, we need that too.”
“Yes, sir.” Mary smiles widely and turns back to the cart. Not a minute later, she’s handing Lauren a roll of thin paper. “These are your pictures, and this”—she hands her the CD—“is your baby’s first home movie. Now, let me get your Doppler.” She walks to a cabinet on the back wall and unlocks the door, pulling out a small box. When she gives it to me with a wink, I pass her my AmEx, excited to get home and hear that sound all over again.
The drive back to Tristan’s is quiet. I can’t stop looking at the pictures. Tristan drives, his hand resting under my shirt, over our baby.
I feel like such a fool, having let my fear guide me. I understand that by profession, he’s a rock star, but that’s not all he is. I know that, and I knew it then, but the fear took hold anyway. I’ve always known he was a good man, but these past eight hours, he’s proved that tenfold.
Tristan pulls into the garage and before I can move, his lips are pressed to mine.
“Thank you,” he whispers against my lips.
“For what?”
“For you. For our baby.”
“Can we watch it?” I ask, holding up the CD.
“Like you even have to ask. Let me order us some dinner. What sounds good to you two?”
He’s accepted this better than I ever could’ve imagined, taking the news in stride. “Pizza?”
“Pepperoni and bacon, right?” he confirms.
I nod, fighting the emotions roaring through me for something as simple as him remembering what I like on my pizza.
“Let’s get you inside and I’ll order it.”
I make my way to the couch and sit with the CD and roll of pictures from the ultrasound. When Tristan takes a seat beside me, I hand him the pictures. He’s quiet, scanning each one with intensity. He takes his time, as if he’s memorizing every little detail, and I don’t interrupt him, giving him the same freedom I had on the drive over. It’s a lot to take in, our little miracle.
I’m not sure how much time passes when he finally speaks. “We did that,” he says, not taking his eyes off the pictures.
“You do good work.” I elbow him lightly.
He turns to look at me, a fierceness in his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak and the doorbell chimes.
“Saved by the bell,” I whisper.
With a chaste kiss, he’s off the couch and answering the door. A few minutes later, he’s setting a large pizza down on the coffee table with plates, napkins, and two bottles of water, just as my stomach growls. I place my hand there, my face heating from embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, babe. I should’ve made sure you ate sooner.”
“No way could I have eaten. I was too nervous, too excited,” I assure him.
“Eat,” he urges, handing me a plate with two pieces of pizza. My stomach growls again just as I’m taking my first bite.
“Sprout’s hungry, Momma.” He winks, taking a big bite of his own piece. We eat, and eat and eat. I have three pieces, which is way too much, but it was too good to stop. It didn’t help matters that by the time I was finished with my second, Tristan already had a third on my plate.
“That was delicious. I’m stuffed.”
Tristan grabs my plate, throws it in the now-empty box, and takes everything to the kitchen. He comes back a few minutes later, holding his hand out for me. I take it and let him pull me up.
“They’ll deliver to our new place too. We’ll have to do this exact thing once we move in.”
We stop to turn off the kitchen lights, and Tristan double-checks that the door is locked and the alarm is set. He leads me upstairs and into what I assume is his bedroom. Blindly I follow him until we stop and I hear the clicking sound of him turning on the light. I see my bag at the foot of the bed.
“I thought we could get ready for bed, then watch our movie,” he explains.
“I forgot it downstairs.”
He holds up the CD and roll of pictures. “Can we cut these?” he asks. “I was thinking we could frame one for the side of the bed and maybe put one on the fridge.”
I nod, unable to speak for the emotion consuming me.
“I’ll let you get changed.” He points to my bag.
I have clothes I can sleep in, since I thought I was staying with Logan and Kacen, but the thought of sleeping in something of his, a novelty we’ve yet to share, is strong.
“Can I borrow a T-shirt?”
He nods, then pulls the shirt he’s wearing over his head and hands it to me, his eyes liquid pools of blue flames as he watches me. Mimicking him, I pull my shirt over my head and lay it on the bed, then step out of my jeans, wiggling them from my hips before they fall to the floor. I don’t watch him, while I do this. I can’t. My desire for him is too strong, and although I want nothing more than to feel him inside of me, I’m exhausted both mentally and emotionally.
Reaching behind me, I unclip my bra and place it on top of my shirt. Tristan groans and my eyes snap up. He’s staring at my chest.
“Your body’s changing,” he says gruffly.
“Sprout,” I say by way of explanation.
He steps toward me and gently holds my breast in his palm. He slides his other hand over my baby bump, palm flat against my skin. “Ren,” he croaks out, his voice tight. “I’ve never in all my life seen anything as beautiful as you are in this moment.”
A sob breaks from my chest that I can’t control. “Tristan, I’m so sorry. I was so wrong but I was scared. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry.” I know I need to say more, but my emotions have gotten the best of me.
“I won’t lie, it stings,” he confesses. “It stings like a motherfucker that you thought I wouldn’t want this.”
I hang my head, truly ashamed of my actions. Deep down I did know better.
“I want to be mad at you—hell, I should be—but I just can’t bear it. You’ve given me these precious gifts that I will cherish always. How can I be mad at you for that?”
The hand that was cupping my breast lifts my chin so he can look at me. He must see the question in my eyes. “You and our baby, Lauren. Nothing is more precious to me than the two of you. My family.”
Another sob, because he’s more than I ever expected. Over a year ago, when I met him for the first time, I was astounded that he asked for my number. I thought I was just a girl he could talk to, flirt with, someone to help pass the boredom while they were on tour. Then when I finally got to see him again, he was this caring, sweet guy, not at all the rocker I had built up in my head.
I was sure that he had completed his mission the night we slept together; he got the girl who’s never had a fling or a one-night stand in the sheets. I had accepted it and started pulling away, bracing myself for the day the calls and messages stopped. Only they didn’t stop, and here we are thirteen weeks later, having a baby. Not just having a baby together, but we’re together.
“Here.” He holds up his shirt for me. I lean in and allow him to slip it over my head, pushing one arm and then the other through the holes. “Get comfy while I put in our movie.”
He kisses my forehead before crossing the room and placing the CD into the CD player. He unbuttons his jeans and kicks them to the side before climbing in bed, remote in hand. With his back against the headboard, he holds his arm up in invitation. Turning off the lamp, I climb into bed and into his arms. For over a year, we’ve talked and sent text messages every single day. We learned each other’s likes and dislikes, fears, favorite color—you name it. But the intimacy, the being together, touching of skin, that we’ve lacked in. We had four glorious nights a few months ago that gifted us Sprout. I crave the intimacy with him.
The room is dark, nothing but the glow of the blue screen showing on the television. Tristan hits play and the video of our ultrasound starts to play. This time I don’t even try to stop the tears as they fall. Tristan’s arm tightens around me as we watch the entire ten-minute and thirty-two-second video.
When it’s over and the screen goes back to the main menu, he plays it again. We watch in silence, holding on to each other, in awe of the miracle that we created.
After the second time, Tristan turns off the TV and slides down in bed, lying on his side. I do the same, staring into the darkness. I can’t see him, but every breath he takes, I match with my own as if we’re one. He rests his hand on my hip and tugs me close, and I go willingly.
“Lauren,” he whispers.
I don’t speak, I can tell from the tone of his voice that there’s something he wants to say, so I wait patiently, trailing my fingers slowly up and down his back.
“Fuck, I’m so in love with you,” he says in his deep voice, thick with emotion. “I know what you’re thinking,” he adds immediately. “It’s not because we’re having a baby. I’ve known for a while, but it really hit me that night a few months ago when I had to leave you there in bed and it physically pained me to do it. You are smart and beautiful, and you’re not with me for what I can give you, or because you want your ten minutes of fame. I don’t want to go another day without being with you like this. Without holding you close and kissing you whenever I want. I want you here, in Nashville. I want to make this our home, and we can visit your family anytime you want. I know that’s selfish, but I can’t help it. I don’t want you to work, I want you to be a momma to this little one.” He places his hand over my belly. “I want to give Sprout brothers and sisters. I want to watch our kids play in our new backyard while I hold you just like this on the back deck.”
“That’s an impressive list.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“It is, and I want to mark off every fucking item with you. I want to add to it every fucking day.”
“You sound like you’re sure about this.”
“I’m definite in this. I’m definite that I love you and will never love anyone but you. I’m definite that you make my life full, and I’m definite that I’ll do anything and everything in my power to make sure not a day goes by that you not only know it, but feel it.”
“I—” My voice cracks and I swallow hard to compose myself. Tristan is patient, giving me time. When I finally think I can get the words out, I try again. “I love you too.”
When his mouth finds mine, his lips are soft yet firm. He kisses me slowly, nipping at my bottom lip, causing me to open for him. I feel this kiss all the way to my toes.
When he slows, both of us needing air, he rests his forehead against mine.
“Lauren,” he breathes.
“I’m not all that thrilled with my job, as you know. I’ve been thinking about what I want to do with my life, if I had the chance to go back to school or whatever. I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up,” I say, and he chuckles, sitting back and pulling my head down to rest on his chest. “I don’t know career-wise, but I know I want to be yours, and I want to be Sprout’s mom. Whatever that means for us, that’s what I want it to be.”
