Shopping for a CEO's Baby (Shopping for a Billionaire Series Book 16), стр. 13
A rush of emotion makes the next few minutes pass in a series of images. The tech squirting gel on Amanda's belly. Holding a wand. Pressing it to her skin. Amanda's groan. Talk about Kegels and complaints about ultrasound technology. Eternity yawns before me as I see myself as a piece of something so much greater than just my own life.
I'm passing on new life to other beings.
There will be a time when they are alive and I am not.
A loud groan, this time from Amanda's stomach, fills the room.
“Sorry,” she says, sheepish. “I couldn't eat this morning, but I'm starving now.”
“How's the morning sickness?” Tanley asks politely.
“Better, but not gone.”
“With twins, everything's stronger. You'll probably have it a little longer than someone carrying a singleton, but it should fade.”
“Thanks. It already is.”
Buh-DUM! Buh-DUM! Buh-DUM! Buh-DUM! Buh-DUM!
The sound of horses galloping fills the air.
“There we go. Found twin number one, here on the left. Let's see if we can find the other.”
Twin number one.
“Lefty!” Amanda jokes.
“That's the heartbeat,” I say, as if speaking the words makes it more real.
“One of them. Aha! Here we go.” Tanley points to the screen. “Twin number two on the right. Both strong.”
“Righty!” Amanda calls out, squeezing my hand with emotion, her grip communicating so much.
Tanley watches the display, then looks at us. “You saw the babies earlier, yes?”
We both nod.
“Then you know they're identical.”
“One sperm, two humans,” I reply.
“Efficient,” is her gratifying answer. Amanda, on the other hand, lets out a sound that makes it clear my swimmers don't impress her at all. “One placenta, as well. But it has to work extra hard.” She pats Amanda's shoulder in comfort.
“What are they?” I ask.
“Humans,” the tech deadpans.
“No–I mean, boys? Girls?”
“It's pretty early to tell, but we do have some new techniques. You're only at twenty weeks, Amanda, but I can estimate...”
For the next minute, we're silent, Tanley taking pictures, analyzing, doing everything with efficiency. I watch the various shades of gray, white, and black on the screen and fixate on those hearts pounding blood as hard as possible.
My children.
“Um, I really don't think I can hold it much longer,” Amanda chokes out, her hand going limp in mine. She's sweating now, and a look of pain lingers on her face even when the tech removes the ultrasound wand.
“I'm sorry.” Tanley mops up the gel on her belly. “Go ahead to the bathroom.”
“But are they boys? Girls?” Amanda asks as I offer her a hand to sit up, which makes her mouth stretch in a miserable grimace.
“I'm not one hundred percent certain, but I'll tell you if you promise not to sue me if I'm wrong.”
“You want it in writing? I can get my assistant to draw up a contract right now–”
She cuts me off. “That was a joke, Andrew. Congratulations.” She smiles. “You have two boys in there.”
Boys.
Sons.
Two sons.
“Oh, my God,” Amanda gasps.
“YES!” I shout, arm going up in victory before I can stop it, fist punching the air with satisfaction.
“You clearly have a preference,” the tech says to me dryly.
“No. It's just–” I start to explain.
“He's beating his brother at the baby game,” Amanda says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “Now he’s knocked me up with two babies from a single supersperm, and he’s delivering the first grandsons to his father, who is a sexist jerk who finds that important.”
I look at my wife.
Who then lifts her hand up and high-fives me.
“We beat Shannon and Declan,” she crows.
“I thought you didn't care about that?”
“I do when I'm a bloated whale floating on an endless sea of pee and I turn angry.”
“Let's find you a bathroom.”
“A potted plant will do at this point.”
“Right next door,” the tech says, pointing. Amanda rushes in and the lock clicks.
“I'd be happy with whatever,” I assure Tanley. “Boy, girl, nonbinary, unicorn, or baby android, as long as they’re both healthy.”
“But...”
“But this is going to really make my brother's teeth grind.”
“I thought the only grind he was into was coffee.”
My turn for eyebrows to shoot up. “You're a Grind It Fresh! patron?”
“I am. Next time you see your brother, thank him for me. His new roasted cacao latte has made many pregnant patients happy. Not as much caffeine as coffee, and all the good vibes from the theobromine make for happy moms.”
“I will let him know.” I clear my throat. “Right after I tell him I won.”
Did she just roll her eyes like Amanda does?
Speaking of my wife... she’s taking a while. Tanley hands me a long strip of photos of the babies, then extends her hand. “Good to see you. Marci at the front desk will make sure your next appointment is a rotation with one of the other doctors or a CNM. Good luck!” She guides me to the hallway then knocks lightly on an exam room door, entering with a greeting. The sound of the door closing leaves me in a daze.
Ultrasound paper is like old-fashioned fax machine paper, with a coated finish, and the fluorescent ceiling light's reflection on the image catches my eye. One big sac, split in the middle by the placenta, babies floating next to each other, stares back at me and whisper, “Daddy.”
“Hey, there,” I say to them, looking around furtively. No one heard me.
Good.
A chair is against the wall opposite the bathroom where Amanda's taken up residence, so I have a seat. You can admire a grayscale photo of your womb babies for only so long; after a while, I check messages on my phone, answering a few from Gina.
And then:
Help. I can't pee.
Gina can be a little too TMI for my taste sometimes, as her boss, but this one takes the cake.
Hold up.
That text isn't from Gina.
It's Amanda.
What? I reply.
I CAN'T PEE.
“You don't need to shout,” I say aloud.
I can hear you through the door, she answers.
I look up sharply, half expecting her eyes to laser holes through the thick wood.
Do you need help?
What do they do to help you