“You’re going to be a dad?” I ask Dean, my smile growing wider.
He looks at Zoe and his expression is so tender that it makes my heart swell. She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling and when he wraps his arm around her shoulders, she leans into him and puts her hand on his chest.
And I think maybe, just maybe, they’re in love, or at least on their way to it. It’s such a beautiful thing. Falling in love. Creating a new life. Building something good together.
“Yeah,” Dean says, looking down at her upturned face before his gaze swings to me. “For the second time in my life, I’m going to be a dad.”
For the second time in my life…? Oh, Dean. He’s talking about me. Emotion clogs my throat and I have to clear it before speaking. “You’re going to be a great dad.”
“Fuck, I hope so.” He looks slightly terrified by the prospect and pats his pockets, no doubt searching for his cigarettes but coming up empty.
He sighs when Zoe hands him a pack of gum to replace the nicotine and I mentally calculate how many more minutes of his life she’s just saved. Eleven. Times twenty in a pack and he’s just bought himself another three hours and forty minutes.
In this life, every minute counts, especially when you’re about to bring a baby into the world.
I have complete faith that Dean will step up and do his very best though. Just like he did when a heartbroken teenager showed up on his doorstep, and he changed all his plans to accommodate me.
Dean never tried to pretend that he was a saint and never tried to step into the role of being a dad. I think he knew he had no right and that I would have resented him for it. But he was there for me in the ways I needed him most at the time.
He nurtured my music career. He took me to see a therapist. He made sure I ate and got enough sleep, and every morning we went for long walks on the beach.
Dean even let me tag along to his AA meetings where I got to listen to his story. He never sugar-coated it. He let me see the man behind the music in all his flawed glory. And what I got from those AA meetings was that Dean never felt like he was good enough. But with me, he has always been more than good enough.
He let me know that he was there for me, but he also gave me the space and the freedom to work through the hard stuff in my own time.
Dean never forced his way into my life or demanded anything of me. He just let me be me, even when it wasn’t pretty. Because he’d been there. He knew what rock bottom looked like and he knew that there are some battles that you have to fight on your own. But other times, you just need to know that someone is there for you, and they have your back.
After congratulating them, I ask when the baby is due. “Not until January,” Zoe says. “We just had the eight-week checkup.”
“Doc did an ultrasound. It’s all looking good. Got to hear the heartbeat,” Dean says with a proud smile. “Most beautiful sound I ever heard.”
Aww, Daddy Dean. My hand goes to my heart. There’s something so adorable about seeing a grown man in awe of the new life he’s helped to create.
“I’m so happy for you,” Jules says, shaking Dean’s hand, his eyes going to Zoe. “For both of you.”
Eight weeks. I do the mental math, trying to figure out where we were eight weeks ago. London. We were in London and Zoe was with us for that whole week. If nothing else, I’m so happy that something good came out of that week.
“You sure it’s your kid?” Aiden asks. I think he’s teasing Dean but with Aiden, you never know.
Zoe glares at Dean as if he was the one who asked the question. “Of course it’s yours.”
He gives her a steady look. “Never said it wasn’t. Never once questioned it, did I?”
“We’re not getting married.”
Dean shrugs. “Fine by me.”
“I can raise this kid on my own so don’t feel obligated—”
“Hey.” He grabs her chin and forces her to meet his eyes. “Cut the shit. We’re doing this together. I’m going to be with you every fucking step of the way. End of story.”
She looks into his eyes and then nods. “Okay,” she says, trying to hide her smile.
He nods. “Okay.”
I smile to myself and turn away to give them some privacy and that’s when it hits me.
Seven months from now I’ll have a baby brother or a baby sister, and just thinking about that makes me melt a little.