Conor took my hand and walked with me into the doctor’s office, helping me take a seat before he sat next to me.
“Darcey Sawyer, is it?” he asked.
“Yes,” I muttered, my voice shaky.
“Can you confirm your date of birth?”
“Sure, sixth of September, nineteen ninety eight.”
“Thank you. Okay, so your partner told us that you are having bad cramps, how many weeks pregnant are you? Did something happen?”
“I don’t know how many weeks I am,” I mumbled, nibbling on the inside of my lip. “I found out yesterday and, erm…” My eyes were on Conor. “I was looking for my partner, and when I was running up the stairs, I fell and landed on the stairs.”
I felt Conor’s eyes burn into me. I’m sure if they could, I would have third degree burns scalding my skin.
“You fell.” His voice was so small, he looked so guilty.
“Yeah...” My voice trailed off. Before anything else could be said, the doctor turned to face me.
“Okay, we will give you a scan. Any bleeding?”
“Not that I have noticed,” I whispered, my hands protectively cradling my flat stomach.
“Okay, try not to worry. I will fill in your notes and we will get you hooked up to a ultrasound machine, okay?” His eyes were soft as he started typing on his computer.
Within minutes, he was walking me through the brightly lit corridors, my eyes constantly on Conor, his hand gripping onto mine. The doctor showed me to a bed, I sat on it and swung my legs round as I laid down, Conor sitting beside me as the doctor pulled the curtain round and sat down opposite the ultrasound machine.
I took a deep breath, the tears running down the side of my face that I had no control over. Conor brought my hand to his lips again, brushing them against my soft skin. “I love you so much,” he muttered, my heart thumping at his words.
“I love you too, I am sorry,” I choked out, my eyes on his. His green eyes were starting to glisten, I knew he was trying to be strong for me.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He shook his head. “It’s me, I am sorry. So sorry. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have fallen up the stairs. Fuck, Darcey. I am, I truly am so sorry. Please forgive me, please?” His pleas were heart-breaking.
Just as I went to tell him I forgive him, the doctor squeezed some gel onto my belly before pushing the probe into my skin as he looked at the screen. A few moments later, he pressed a button, freezing the screen then turning it towards us.
“Here we go, here is your baby.” He smiled. “Perfectly fine. I would say you are about eight to nine weeks pregnant.”
I burst into tears, happy, sad, a mix of everything came crashing down on me. My eyes locked on Conor’s, he stood from his seat, leaning over me and kissing me on my lips. My hand fisted his tee, pulling him close to me.
“I love you,” I whispered. My eyes were pulled from him when I heard this noise, my eyes facing the screen, watching our little bean flipping round the screen, with a little white dot flickering fast.
“That’s the baby’s heartbeat, nice and strong. They’re going to be just fine.” He smiled at me before printing out the ultrasound photos and giving them to Conor.
“I’ll give you a few minutes. I’ll pass your details onto the midwife department and they will be in contact. Congratulations, Miss Sawyer,” he said before standing, walking out the curtain and pulling it back shut.
I let out my held in sobs as I clung to the photos, I couldn’t believe everything was okay.
Our little bean was okay.
Conor pressed his forehead against mine as he let out his own sobs. “I am so sorry, baby, I really am. Forgive me, please?” His kisses on my forehead, trailed down my cheeks and onto my lips.
“I do, I do,” I whispered before retuning his kiss.
“Let’s go home,” Conor said, scooping me up in his embrace.
We spent the day lying in bed and watching junk television, Conor not letting me out of his grip. Saturday evening was soon upon us, I needed to call my mum and dad about our proposal, and our baby, but I would do it tomorrow.
Now, I just wanted to lay with Conor, and forget about the last few days, just for a moment.
I woke to find Conor snuggled into me, his hands wrapped protectively round my bump. I smiled before turning to look at him, staring at his beautiful face. His dark eyebrows shaped perfectly, it wasn’t fair. He was a man and his eyebrows were amazing, his long, black lashes fanned out on his tanned skin.
My eyes trailed down his bare body, his colourful tattoos merging into each other, smiling when I saw the one of me. I would never tire of looking at him.
I traced my finger up the side of his body, over our matching tattoos. I couldn’t possibly love this man anymore if I tried.
I rolled onto my back, lifting the duvet off me and placing it back down, so it was still over him. I tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the main dressing room, my eyes searching for my ring box. I grabbed it, lifting the lid, taking my ring out before placing it back on my finger.
I made my way back to the bedroom before heading towards the shower. I turned it on, standing under the cascading water. I rinsed my hair off when I heard the bathroom door go, and I instantly smiled.
I looked over my shoulder, my hungry eyes on him as I watched him. His black, cotton shorts clung to his hips. His tattoos covered his toned abs, my eyes ran down to his V-lines, disappearing into his shorts. My mouth watered.
He pushed his shorts down, standing stark-bollock naked in front of me before he walked slowly towards the shower. I turned round to face him, instantly wet for him. His eyes were dark, hooded and stormy. That was my favourite look.
He looked so fucking hot, and he was all mine. He wrapped his hand around my waist, pulling me to him before his wet lips trailed down my neck delicately, moving down, his hands kneading my full, aching breast before sucking my nipple. I moaned, my head rolling back before his hand glided in-between my legs, spreading them before he slipped a finger deep inside me.
I pressed my hand against his chest, pushing him away. His brows furrowed together, his dark chocolate hair flopped onto his forehead before I dropped down to my knees, wanting to show him just how much I wanted him.
I wrapped my hand around him before pushing my lips down onto him, taking every single inch of him. His hands flew into my hair, grabbing two fistfuls as he pushed my head up and down, sweet groans leaving his throat which only drove me on more to satisfy and please him.
He pushed me away gently, pushing his arms round my waist before lifting me up, my legs automatically wrapping around his toned body. He lined himself up with me and thrust into me, fast and hard. I needed to feel him close to me, and this still didn’t seem close enough.
His pushes into me were fast and hard, giving me what I needed. I clenched down around him, screaming his name as he continued hitting into me, my head tipped back. His lips were on mine, sucking and nipping at my skin, his hands under my bum, squeezing me hard as he pushed in and out of me.
“I’m going to come, baby,” he cried out as he came, finding my own release. He gripped onto me, pushing me against the wall as we stilled our breathing.
“I will never tire of you,” he muttered.
“Good, I don’t want you to ever tire of me.” I smirked as I kissed his lips.