Dillon

 

“Three days, Ariel!” I scream out in frustration, she’s refusing to go to the doctor and find out what’s wrong with her. I can’t diagnose her without running some tests and I have no equipment here other than the basic stethoscope and blood pressure cuff.

“Dillon, please, I can’t move. Every time I do, I feel sick again from the movement. Just let me lay in bed and leave me alone.”

“Not happening, baby, if I have to get you showered, dressed and ready to go myself, you are going to the appointment I made for you. The question is are you doing this on your own or am I doing it for you?”

“Stubborn, hard-headed asshole!” She screams out at me, she said it so fast it came out as one word.

“Not stubborn, baby, worried and determined to get you better. C’mon and get a move on, Ariel.”

“Why can’t you just let me lie here and die in peace, Dillon,” she moans out holding her stomach.

“So melodramatic, Ariel, you’re not dying, baby, but we need to get you better. Your sister is running herself ragged while you and Emory are being stubborn. If you won’t do it for you or me, at least do it for your sister and your business.”

“Fine!” she says, tossing the blankets back and stomping her way to the bathroom. And she calls me pig-headed? Pot meet kettle! Her stubbornness puts mine to shame.

“Can you at least get me some sweats, socks, t-shirt and my chucks and bring them in here?”

“Sure can, baby,” I tell her, smiling because I finally have her up and moving.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, asshole!”

I straight out laugh at her attitude—doesn’t she know by now that it doesn’t faze me in the least?

 

 

“Can you repeat that?” I ask her family doctor.

He looks at me like I’m slow on the draw, “Ariel does have a stomach virus, but on top of that she’s expecting.”

“I can’t be pregnant! I’m on birth control and we’ve been using condoms,” she says. I think back and there was one time in the shower that we didn’t. Not wanting to catch her wrath, I keep quiet and don’t bring up the incident to her.

“Not everything is fail proof,” the doctor tells her.

“That’s such bullshit! Why do we pay for these things if they don’t work! I’m supposed to be married before I have a kid, for Christ’s sake,” she huffs out. If that’s what she’s worried about I’ll take her to the courthouse as soon as we leave here.

“We can take care of that as soon as you’re feeling up to it,” I tell her, causing her to glare at me and I return it.

“We’re not rushing to the altar, Dillon! I won’t have a shotgun wedding.” Damn she’s so fucking set in her ways.

“Well,” the doctor says clearing his throat. “We need to get you a prescription for prenatal vitamins and I recommend purchasing some folic acid to add with them. I can get you some medication to help with the vomiting that won’t harm the baby. I’d like to see you back in a month. You’re six weeks along according to your menstrual chart, next time you’re here we’ll listen to the heartbeat and set you up an appointment for your first ultrasound. If you have any questions before then, please don’t hesitate to call the office. Congratulations you two and I do hope this is happy news. As far as the stomach virus goes, drink plenty of fluids and get some rest. It should run its course in a few more days. Good luck,” he says to me in passing, cuffing me on the shoulder in commiseration with me.

“Say something,” she whispers out to me. Knowing my girl as well as I do, she’s feeling vulnerable and worried about how I’ll react to this news.

“If you weren’t so sick, I’d pick you up and twirl you around this room. I’m so happy that you’re carrying my baby,” I say to her as I lean over and peck her lips.

“Are you sure, Dillon? I swear I didn’t do anything to cause this.”

“I know you didn’t, Ariel, keep in mind you weren’t the only one in that bed. We’re adults and know what the possible outcome could be to our actions. We’re responsible, are financially set and have our careers established. We’ve got this, baby,” I tell her, pulling her in my arms to try and comfort her.

“My mom’s going to insist we get married before the baby is born.”

“That’s a good possibility,” I tell her, “One I’d be more than willing to fulfill.”

“Are you kidding me right now? We haven’t even told each other that we love the other and you’re ready to tie yourself to me forever…that’s madness, Dillon.”

“Do you love me, Ariel?”

“More than my next breath,” she says with no hesitation whatsoever.

“You’re my world, Ariel, I love you more than I thought it was humanly possible to love another person.”

“God, Dillon, we’re having a baby.”

“That we are, beautiful, let’s get you out of here. We need to stop and drop off your prescriptions and get home and do some celebrating.”

“Celebrating huh? What type of celebration could we have with me puking everywhere anytime my stomach is jostled.”

“You let me worry about that,” I tell her.