Six weeks.
Those two words repeat over and over in my head as I leave the doctor's office. My mind feels numb when I respond to his kind words.
When I walk down the streets, every store that shows little clothes, every mom that is walking with her kids, makes me feel like if everyone already knew.
I shake my head, denying the idea. I'm just going insane. The fact that I started to notice those stores and the kids on the streets are just because… Now I know.
I head towards home. Maybe if I have some time to think about it, I'll figure out why I'm feeling like this.
As soon as I get home, I sit on the couch and stare into nothing.
My hand goes down to my stomach. I feel it over my jacket but, somehow, that's not enough to reassure me there's someone inside me. I open my jacket and I pull up my t-shirt and I really touch my stomach.
I smile. But I'm scared.
How I'm supposed to know how to be a mom? I didn't have a mom. Even if I had Metias, I think being a mother is slightly different. And what if something happens to me or Day? I don't want this kid to lose someone like I have. Like we have.
I pull down the t-shirt and the door opens. I shot a glance to the clock on our wall and I frown.
"Hey," Day says entering. He closes the door and when he turns at me, he laughs. "Is everything alright? Do you want me to come later?" He asks pointing at the door.
"Why are you here? It's half an hour early—" I start.
"Always counting, right?" He teases walking towards me. He leans and gives me a short kiss. "I finished early and I came before the traffic began," he explains getting away. Now he's frowning. "Do you really want me to come later?" He asks taking his bulletproof vest off.
"No. Of course not. I'm just surprised." I shrug, trying to sound and look normal, but his eyes are already narrowing. He's not an idiot. Of course he knows something is going on. I can't lie to him.
"Whatever," he says shrugging, too. Then he shakes his short hair. "Do you think I need to cut it?" I look at his hair. He leans again, so I can dig my hands into his hair.
"No, it's fine," I say smiling. "My hands don't get lost on it yet."
He chuckles. "Why don't we make dinner?" He asks and I nod. He gets away and then offers me his hand. I grab it and he pulls me out of the couch. "What do you want?" He gets away and gets to the kitchen first.
"Whatever you want to," I respond and he laughs.
"I'm going to make some pasta, then." He moves easily through the kitchen.
"Do you want me to help?" I ask from the door.
"Sure. Come here and cut the tomatoes, sweetheart. I want them thinner than this." He shows me one of the huge cubes that the can has and I smile.
"Anything is thinner than this."
"They don't even care. If it didn't taste so well, I'd be mad."
I start to cut the tomatoes and I'm halfway through the can, when he puts his arms around my waist. His hands rest on my stomach and I flinch away from him. The knife falls from my hand into the table and he stares at me like if he were hurt. And he probably is.
"Is everything okay?" He asks and the look in his eyes kills me. I stare at him, frozen by the door. "June," he calls and I shake my head. He's going to ask and I can't escape from this. "What's going on?" He asks. "I knew you had a doctor appointment, but it seems that things didn't turn out that well, because—" He takes a deep breath. "Anden called me and asked me if I could replace you while you were out." My eyes are wide open, my heartbeat races as I hope Anden didn't tell him about it. "He didn't tell me why and I've been waiting since I came home for you to tell me. And I'm worried, June," he says looking away. "Is it something bad? Is something going to happen with you?" I don't respond and his eyes are shinning. "You know I'm here, right?"
Before he keeps going, I interrupt. "Nothing is wrong with me, Day."
"Sweetheart, you will be out for a while if Anden needed me to cover you," he says immediately. "Did you broke something? Oh God, are you fine?" He's so restless that I just stay there. I can't find the words. I know he'll be happy but the words can't come out. And he's still rambling about how worried he is.
I start crying. He stops talking and he's in front of me, holding my face, pulling the tears apart with his thumbs. "What is it?" He asks, almost crying.
"I'm scared," I respond.
"Of what?" His voice is cracked, his body trembling—or maybe it is mine. I don't know at this point.
"I'm—I'm pregnant," I respond and now he's the one that walks away. His arms are resting on his sides and he's staring at me.
When he doesn't say a thing, I start to worry. What if he doesn't want a kid right now?
But then he starts crying. My heart hurts.
"Daniel," I call and he hugs me. "Are you okay?" I ask, hugging him back.
He laughs getting a little away. "I am. This tears are just because I'm happy." He smiles. Then he strokes my cheek. "What are you scared of? Were you scared of my reaction?" He seems to be worried about that.
"No." The smile comes back. "I'm worried because I don't know how to be a mom. And what if something happens to one of us? Or worse, the two of us?" I ask and he shakes his head.
"I would be worried if you weren't worried," he murmurs smiling. "The thing is, sweetheart, no one knows how to be a parent. Even if you had parents. You have to figure out yourself, and that's the pretty thing about it. That we'll learn that together." He cleans the tears with his thumbs again. "And June, no one knows what's going to happen. You just can't stop living your life because you're scared of what's going to happen. What has to happen, will happen," he says. "Take it one day at time."
I smile and then I hide my face on his chest. He strokes my hair and I feel lighter. It's amazing how he always has the right words. How he always calms me down.
I get away when I listen to the water overflowing the pan. "Daniel," I call and he looks where I'm looking. He lets me go and turns it off.
"We better go outside. We should celebrate," he says smiling. "What do you think about that?" He asks and strides towards me. "What do you think?" He asks again on my stomach and I laugh. "Does the baby move?" He asks and I shake my head.
"I just have six weeks," I respond.
"Six weeks? Oh man. I have to wait a lot," he complains. "But meanwhile we can start preparing the room," he offers shrugging casually. I laugh because he's playing it cool, but his eyes can't hide the excitement.
I smile and he does the same.
"I love you," I say.
"I love you too," he responds. "I love you both," he adds quickly, placing his right hand on my stomach. When I feel his warmth in my stomach, I know it's going to be alright.