Thanks for the reviews. :) To be honest, I was hoping for a few more, but needless to say I was thrilled with how positive the responses I got were! Since most of your comments mentioned a continuation, I decided to take your suggestions into consideration and explore the situation in a little more detail. I was going to do a follow up that was shamelessly fluffy, but I hope you'll all agree that this works better in terms of plot.
Please don't forget to let me know if you liked it, especially since I went out of my way to make it extra long! ;)
Chapter 2.
"You sure you don't wanna wait 'til we get back to do that?" Jack called to Kate from the bedroom as she skimmed the instructions one last time, to make sure that she hadn't missed anything.
Three minutes. One line. No. Two lines. Yes. Maybe it was just hope combined with weeks of wishful thinking, but she had a good feeling about the latter.
"You mean after I already waited all day for you to come home?" she complained when she opened the door to find him seated on the end of the bed, fastening the buttons of the dress shirt he'd just put on.
They were due at Claire's for dinner in less than an hour: an event she'd spent the last week dreading. In fact, it had taken all of her strength not to reject the idea in the first place. But Claire was Jack's sister and – at one time – one of Kate's best friends. She couldn't avoid her forever. Her or her son. Even if it still hurt her to think of him that way. "At least it'll give us something to talk about, right?"
She flashed him a nervous smile, waving the test so that he could see it. "Besides, I already took it."
His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but he didn't call her on her impatience. "I guess we're doing it now then," he agreed, moving over to make a space beside him, but he seemed to have drawn his own conclusion ahead of time. "I just hope you're not gonna be too disappointed if the results aren't what you were hoping for."
She snuck a peek at the alarm clock on the dresser.
Two minutes.
She could feel her excitement building as she made out the beginnings of a pink line.
"We've been having sex every night, Jack – every day, too," she reminded him with an impish grin, enjoying the way he covered the flush that crept into his cheeks with a soft chuckle, as if he still couldn't believe his own stamina. "I'd say the odds of you knocking me up at least one of those times are pretty good."
"You make it sound so romantic," he teased her, pulling her into his arms, and smiling, she settled against him with the test still clutched in her hand.
One minute.
The first line had almost finished forming. One more, and she would have everything she'd ever dreamed of.
"I'm glad you're on board with this, Jack," she confessed, resting her head on his shoulder while his skilled fingers combed through her hair. "I don't know what I would've done if you didn't want a baby."
"I meant what I said, Kate – I'm in this, one hundred per cent," he assured her, his voice low and earnest.
She lifted her chin with a languid smile, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth before letting her cheek fall back against his chest.
He brushed the top of her head with his lips as he let her go, lowering his hand to check his watch. "Thirty seconds."
Thirty seconds, and everything would be different. Thirty seconds, and they would know.
The certainty she'd felt moments before began to wane on hearing this, and she felt like she was going to be sick. "You're gonna have to tell me what it says, because I can't look," she told him, burying her face in his shirt.
As his fingers closed around her wrist, she waited for him to speak, but when all she heard was his heavy sigh, the sick feeling increased. "Jack?"
One look at his grim expression told her everything, but she glanced down at the test anyway, tears welling in her eyes when she saw what he'd seen: a single pink line.
"I'm so sorry, Kate," he said softly, sincerely. "But you should know, sometimes it can take up to a year for a healthy woman to conceive – especially after going off the pill. The chances of you getting pregnant the first time were always pretty slim."
She knew he was trying to lessen the hurt by reducing it to scientific fact, but she got up before he could make it worse by hugging her, dropping it into the trash with the box. "It was stupid to think I was gonna be one those women," she told him, a pang gripping her heart as she thought of Claire. Claire with her beautiful, healthy son. Her son. It wasn't fair.
"You're not stupid, Kate – you let yourself get carried away, that's all," he insisted, and a moment later, she felt him slip his arms around her waist, his chin coming to rest in the crook of her neck. She wanted to tell him to stop it, before she actually started crying, but instead she found herself leaning back into his warmth as she struggled to reign in her emotions.
"You just need to relax. It'll happen, I promise." He dropped a gentle kiss against her shoulder. "We'll keep trying, but in the mean time, I can't say I mind having you all to myself for a while longer."
She wanted to tell him that that was how she felt too – that she was grateful to have someone so understanding in her life – but as hard as she tried, it just wasn't enough.
"You know, we don't have to go tonight if you're not up to it," he told her as with one final kiss – this time to the side of her jaw – he disentangled himself from her. "I'll call Claire and tell her you're not feeling well."
He fixed her with a lop-sided grin, trying to get her to smile as he continued, "We can order take out, watch some TV – maybe even go to bed early," a hint of suggestion creeping into his tone.
While she couldn't deny the fact that she would have preferred a quiet night at home, she knew Claire would never believe that she was sick. She would know that she just couldn't face her – or Aaron – and that would just make the situation more complicated.
"It's too late too cancel on her now," she pointed out when she saw that it was almost seven. They couldn't put it off any longer. The drive across town would take at least fifteen minutes; allowing for traffic, they were already late.
"You're sure?" he pressed, trying to catch her eye in the mirror when she turned away to retouch her make up.
She threw her lipstick into her purse, forcing a smile for him as she let the way out of the room. "Yeah, let's go," she agreed.
"Good you're here! I was starting to think you weren't coming," Claire announced when she let them in, greeting Kate with a stiff hug before returning her attention to Jack. She didn't seem to know what to say to her; a dilemma that Kate could relate to.
She wanted to hear all about Aaron, and how he was settling into his new life, but she wasn't sure how to ask when the wounds were still so raw, for both of them.
Sensing the tension between them, Jack glanced over at her, then back at Claire. "I just got held up at the hospital," he lied, and Kate was grateful to him for saving her from having to explain why they were late. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't want Claire to know that she'd failed.
"How's that going anyway?" Claire agreed, taking this topic and running with it. "Did you save any lives today?"
She and Jack continued their conversation as she waved them through into the house, but Kate had stopped listening, her heart giving a painful jolt when she spotted a familiar blonde head almost hidden by the top of the couch.
He leapt off when he saw her, his face splitting into a grin. "Mommy!"
Claire trailed off mid sentence as her son launched himself at Kate, and even though she knew she should do something about correcting him, Kate couldn't help smiling as she bent down to sweep him into her arms.
If she closed her eyes, and shut out Claire's wounded look, she could almost pretend that nothing had changed; that he was still hers. "Hey, buddy. I missed you."
She wasn't aware that the tears that formed on hearing that word again after so long had spilled over onto her cheeks until she heard his voice ask, "What's wrong, Mommy?"
When she glanced up she saw that Claire had pressed her lips into a hard line; Jack looked just as unhappy but his disapproval was laced with what she knew was concern: for her, for Claire and for Aaron. They didn't want her to encourage him, but he had no idea what was happening: how was she supposed to explain it to him?
She wiped her eyes with her knuckle, forcing herself to compose herself. "Nothing, I'm just glad to see you," she told him as she let him go.
Dinner consisted mostly of small talk, followed by long moments of uncomfortable silence; the worst of these came when Claire brought out a bottle of wine.
"Oh my God," she gushed when Kate held out a hand to keep her from filling her glass, and she could practically see the wheels turning inside her head. "Don't tell me you're…" but Jack cut her off with a sharp look.
"No, I'm not," Kate agreed, a fresh wave of misery hitting her as the conversation died out.
She was relieved when the meal was over and they could make their excuses without appearing rude: Jack had an early start in the morning, and Claire needed to get Aaron to bed. It should have been Kate's job, but instead she was left feeling superfluous, watching Claire put him through the routine that she herself had set for him.
She'd always made sure that he was independent – at least as independent as a three year old could be – so Claire sent him off to brush his teeth and change into his pyjamas, but she called him out to say goodbye as they were leaving.
"What's that you've got there Aaron?" Claire asked him when he wandered into the living room carting a red, yellow and blue backpack stuffed so full of toys that he could only close the zipper halfway. "Do you want to show Jack and Kate your new bag?"
He blinked at her in confusion, as if he didn't answer the question, but she smiled as she watched him struggle to hoist it onto his back, explaining, "Every morning he gets up and he puts it on, and he asks me if it's time for him to go to preschool yet. It's really cute."
She'd been there for everything: his birth, his first word, his first steps, the first time he slept through the night; it hurt Kate to think that that was this would be the first of a lifetime of milestones she was going to miss. She would be there as his aunt, but it wasn't the same.
"I'm ready to go home now," he announced, walking over and slipping his hand through Kate's, and it was only then that his behaviour began to make sense. He thought she was there to pick him up. He thought that he was going with them.
"Don't you remember what we talked about?" she asked him, crouching in front of him so that their eyes were level. "This is your home now, and Claire is your new mommy. She's gonna take really good care of you, just like I did."
It was the best way she could think of to describe it, but nothing she said could convince him that none of this was her choice; that she would keep him in a heartbeat if she could.
"She's not my mommy! I hate her!" he complained when she stood, and Claire's eyes widened with pure hurt and shock, as though he'd slapped her.
"I wanna come home with you!" His lower lip trembled as he threw his arms around her, hugging her legs so that she couldn't go anywhere without him. "Please Mommy, take me with you! I'll be good!"
He buried his face in her thigh, and listening to him sob, feeling his tears soak through her skirt, Kate felt like her heart was being torn in two.
She couldn't bring herself to look at Claire, to see her reaction, but at that moment, she felt Jack's hand on her shoulder. "We should go," he said, his voice full of regret and sadness. "The longer you stay here, the more upset he's gonna get."
She knew that he had a point; swallowing hard, she forced herself not to cry as she knelt down again. "You need to something for me," she told him, stroking his hair. "I need you to do everything Claire tells you, okay? Can you do that for me?"
He lifted his head slowly, responding with a tearful nod.
"Good," she agreed with a watery smile. "I'll come see you again real soon, okay?"
He nodded again, and she gave him one last fierce hug before stepping back and allowing Jack to lead her out to the car.
Neither of them spoke on the ride home.
When they reached the house, Jack went into the kitchen to call Claire, and Kate headed straight up to their room, closing the door behind her to shut out his half of the conversation.
She didn't want to hear about how Aaron had cried for ten minutes after she left, or how devastated Claire was that her son hated her for taking him from the only mother he'd ever known. She just wanted to forget that any of it had ever happened. She wanted to forget how much it hurt.
She knew it would be a long time before she could sleep; she was contemplating taking a shower when she heard a soft voice behind her. "Hey."
At some point Jack had come into the room; before she could think about what she was doing, she shoved him back against the wall, fumbling with the buckle of his belt.
"Kate…" he murmured in a warning tone when she brought her lips to the underside of his jaw, covering her hands with his to slow her movements.
"I don't wanna talk, Jack," she told him before he could finish the thought, sealing his mouth with a firm kiss when he looked like he was going to argue.
"You said we could try again," she reminded him when she pulled back, tearing his shirt open once she got the last of his buttons undone and sliding it from his shoulders, "so let's try again."
Okay, so I haven't decided exactly what the next chapter will be, but rest assured, I have an entire story arc plotted out (with plenty of angst and fluff and Jack being wonderfully supportive... and maybe even a Jaby as a reward) if you want me to continue! All you have to do is say the word! ;)
