Page 100 of Shared By my Ex's Best Friends
And I can feel it too.
Relief.
Fear.
Joy.
Love.
God,so muchlove. It pours off her in waves—thick, overwhelming, suffocating in the best damn way. I’ve never been so completely swallowed by something in my life, and I don’t want it to stop. Not now. Not ever.
The exam room is so quiet, it’s like we’ve all forgotten how to breathe. The soft whoosh of the ultrasound machine, the distant beeping from the hallway, the gentle rustle of paper as Mayashifts against the table—those are the only sounds breaking through.
Even the tech has gone still, respectful, giving us this moment like she knows it’s sacred.
I glance over at Ethan. He’s standing stiffly at the end of the bed, his hands clenched at his sides like letting go might cause him to break open.
His jaw’s tight, but his eyes—those usually calm, steady eyes—are glassy and shining beneath the overhead lights. He’s feeling it, too.
We all are.
Liam’s still bent over her, his fingers sliding gently through her hair now. He’s whispering something I can’t quite catch, his voice warm, soft as smoke, and whatever it is makes Maya laugh through her tears.
It’s that watery, breathless kind of laugh, the kind that means she’s barely holding herself together but grateful to still be upright.
I’ve never loved her more than I do right now.
I can’t stop staring at that grainy screen.
The shape of our baby is barely discernible. A tiny blur, smaller than a thumbprint, floating in a sea of gray.
Lub-dub. Lub-dub.
That heartbeat isn’t just sound anymore. It’s rooting us in the reality of the moment.
That little bean in the middle of the screen?
That’s going to changeeverything.
I swallow hard, my chest tight, and I rub a hand over it.
This is it.
This isreal.
This isours.
Not just Maya’s. Not just mine.
Ours.
I feel it down to my bones—something permanent, something sacred. As I look around this tiny, sterile room with its cold tile floor and buzzing fluorescent lights, I realize it’s not about the setting.
It never was. It’s aboutus.
We are a family. Right here. Right now.
A little messy, a little unorthodox, but full of more love than I ever thought one life could hold.
