Page 45 of Blackout

While part of me always assumed we’d have kids, I never allowed myself to think of what we would name them. It seems like an honor to name a child after you even if you’re the man responsible for their existence. My name never stood for much and I wouldn’t want my kid to carry all the baggage associated with it. Still, I love that Lacey wants to name our sons after me and her father. If we’ve done nothing else right, we loved her right.

“Or a Jackson?”

“I’m starting to think you’re partial to boys,” I comment, brushing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Little boys love their moms,” she reasons. After a beat, she lifts her head and those dark eyes of hers meet mine. “What if it’s negative?” she whispers.

I haven’t thought about what it would feel like to stare at a negative test. As scared as I am, I want her to be pregnant. I want to wake up every morning and look at her, knowing she’s carrying my baby. If the test is negative, well, that will fucking sting.

“If it’s negative, we’ll keep trying,” I assure her, cupping her shoulder. “You ready to look?”

“I think so,” she whispers, taking my free hand. Lacing our fingers together, she blows out a heavy breath and pushes off the bed, dragging me with her. Hand in hand, we make our way inside the bathroom. Before we reach the vanity, she comes to an abrupt stop and turns to me.

“You look,” she stammers, nervously. Keeping her eyes diverted to the test on top of the vanity, she draws her lip between her teeth again. With a nod, I swallow the lump in my throat and turn. Lifting the test in my hand, I hear Lacey exhale sharply behind me.

“Well, what does it say?”

I hear her and when she wraps her arms around my waist, I feel her too. But I don’t look at her and I don’t answer her question.

“Blackie?”

All I can do is stare at the two pink lines.

Two.

Pink.

Lines.

The smile she brought back many years ago, creeps across my lips and I turn to her, blinking away my own tears as I stare into her hopeful eyes.

“Bl—”

“It’s positive.”

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