And then he asked the one question I really didn’t want him to. “Any news on the draft? Seattle Seahawks are dying this season. Their quarterback was forced to retire early through injury, and you’re a sure win for first draft.”

I flashed a panicked glance to Mol. The day I’d learned Seattle was looking like an option, Molly found out we were pregnant, and I hadn’t dared bring it up with her since. I wasn’t sure what my future held for us now. We hadn’t even talked about our next step beyond making sure she and our baby were healthy.

Shifting uncomfortably, I answered, “I know as much as you, sir, but from what I’ve been hearing from my coaches, Seattle is a big possibility for me.”

We sat down, and I got the meaning of Molly’s long hand squeeze. We would be talking about Seattle later—great.

“Okay, you two, let’s meet your baby,” Dr. Adams said excitedly.

When the time came for the sonogram, I swear I’d never been more nervous for anything in my life. The doc inserted a long camera-looking thing inside my girl and she gripped onto my hand, squeezing it like a vise as I pressed kisses along her fingers.

When a tiny picture appeared on the screen beside Molly’s head, all the breath left my body. I felt Molly stiffen and once again tighten her grip on my hand, but I couldn’t speak. I don’t know what the hell happened in that moment, but the stark realization that what I was looking at was a baby my girl and I created was life changing.

I loved Molly more than anything and often wondered if anything else in my life would ever come close to how I felt for her, but seeing our baby, hearing its tiny heartbeat, I realized I could love another in an entirely different way. The man who never thought he would ever love anyone, was incapable of such an emotion, right here in this room held the hand of the woman who’d not only opened his eyes and heart, but was also gifting him with the perfect unison of us both: a child.

Feeling wetness on my cheek, I realized I was crying, and for the first time ever, it was in happiness.

“Everything looks great and it measures as though you are… about… ah… about eight weeks along,” Dr. Adams said, interrupting my fixation on the screen.

Seven months. In seven months we would have a little one of our own.

Dr. Adams passed Molly a picture of the sonogram, and standing up, I kissed her head, watching her staring, disbelieving, at our little angel. Turning to me, she smiled and placed the Polaroid on the bed beside her. She got that I was spellbound by everything happening lately, and as always, she put me first, knowing I needed to see that picture. It was the security that my life was now infinitely better.

“You can get dressed now, Molly, and we’ll see you again in about two months unless you experience any of the problems we discussed. If so, you need to come straight back.” High blood pressure, dizziness, extreme swelling, severe headaches, abdominal pain, blurred vision… Fuck me, the list seemed endless. I knew I’d become an overbearing dick, but shit, there was no way I was losing the two most precious things in my life. I’d never forgive myself if I did.

“Can we find out the sex, then?” Molly asked quietly.

“Hopefully,” the doctor replied and slapped my back, forcing me to look up from the tiny image of our baby. “Congratulations, son, I’ll see you at the championship in Georgia and Roll Tide!”

“Roll Tide,” I croaked out.

Dr. Adams left, and Molly put the picture in my hand before shuffling to get off the bed.

As I watched her contented face, a small, happy smile still there on her lips, I just needed to hold her. Picking her up in my arms, I crushed her to my chest, just breathing in her vanilla scent.

“Romeo what—” she asked.

“Thank you, Mol. Just… thank you…” I said and, wrapping her hands around my neck in response, she whispered, “Thank you, too.”

An hour later, we were back in Molly’s room and I ran her a bath. I took advantage of the time alone and went back out to my truck, retrieving the gift, and laid the white box on the bed.

A short while later, the bathroom door creaked open and Molly came out in my favorite purple nightdress. She looked beautiful with her long, wet hair hanging low and her glasses firmly on her nose. She frowned when she caught sight of the box.

“What’s that?”

“A present,” I answered proudly. Molly eyed me skeptically and moved to the bed, sitting down beside me.

“What is it?” she asked, running her finger over the lid.

“Open it.”